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stood waiting, but I ignored it. I would bathe in front of Oran, but not Lochlen. I didn’t care if he was a dragon. Right now, he wasn’t in his proper form and it was enough to keep me clothed.
    “I enjoy being terrifying,” Lochlen pointed out, winking.
    I ignored him. “You said it was the way of things now. What do you mean by that?”
    The dragon sauntered to my bed, his hip leaning against the mattress. He looked uncomfortable. I often wondered if he was. Fitting his draconic shape in a human form must be like trying to fit a man into a stocking.
    “The council has met. The mages and scribes have concurred, and ambassadors have been notified. Messages have been dispatched to the kings of Greemallia and Henderonia. It is all formality now. New papers have been drawn up, but it is within reason that the kings will agree with Freemont’s offer. With the risk of war hanging over his head, the marriages must be quick. Once the king’s pigeons return with replies, the next move will be a wedding, a double wedding followed by two different consummations.”
    Oran snorted. “I’d say the prince was a lucky man if one of the human women wasn’t Gabriella and the other wasn’t his deceased wife’s sister.”
    My hand went to my stomach, the churning there deep and unsettling. I leaned next to Lochlen on the bed, my lips parted. No words escaped, but they didn’t have to.
    “One of the conditions of his marriage was that there could be no contact between you and the prince,” Lochlen murmured. “It seems the Greemallian princess is unsettled by you. War is a different matter, but while you are here at the palace, there is to be no contact.”
    I exhaled, my hand going to Lochlen’s elbow. I grasped it, and he opened his arms to me, my cheek going to his chest.
    “It shouldn’t matter,” I whispered.
    Lochlen’s human chest wasn’t the same as his scales. It was cool, because even in human form, he was never warm, but it wasn’t as comforting.
    “It shouldn’t, but it does,” he answered me.
    He sighed, and it stirred my hair.
    “Keep your fire contained,” I warned. “I may have cut my hair, but I still want some of it on my head.”
    His chuckle shook my frame, the might of it much greater than his own body. “You are a strong one to be so little, Stone. Remember that.”
    I glanced up at him, his auburn hair tickling my cheek. “I led a man to his death, and now I’m leading another man into two marriages with women he could never love.”
    Lochlen’s brow rose. “Never? Are you sure?”
    Oran jumped onto the bed, his head going to his paws. “You didn’t lead a man to his death. You led him to his destiny.”
    “Be damned destiny,” I cursed.
    Lochlen chuckled again. “And that’s why you are the forests’ chosen. You respect nature, but you aren’t afraid to question the gods. You’ve done well. Don’t let fear and guilt cripple you now. The Sadeemian prince knows his place. He’s a strong one. I often wonder if there isn’t more to him than the prophecy reveals.”
    I thought of the carving on his bedroom door, thought of the strands of wheat surrounding the full moon. There was definitely much more to him than met the eye, something more than what we knew about him. After all, we’d both been born under a Harvest Moon.
    Lochlen’s eyes narrowed. “We have a war to fight. It’s time we concentrate more on how to fight it. The dragons are hiding your people. We train, we watch the prince marry, and we march. We do it now or we lose our chance.”
    I let my head fall against his chest again, one hand lifting to settle in Oran’s fur. Lochlen’s heartbeat was different than a human heart. It had a different rhythm; deeper, stronger. It chased away the silence. It chanted things, dark and light things I would never understand.
    I’d been turned away from Cadeyrn’s door by a princess. I had enemies within the palace. The prince had enemies. The rebels had enemies. It was