Dragons of Arreous (The Dwarf Princess' Dragon Prince)

Winning their Woman

Valerian sighed as she escaped into the quiet of the royal library, relaxing only when the large double doors closed behind her.

"Finally," she whispered, moving to take off her uncomfortable shoes even as she walked towards a chair in a darkened corner.

She sat heavily on the uncomfortable structure, thinking belatedly that it was probably a show piece and not actually something one was supposed to sit upon.

"Oh, well. Wayden knows they have money to replace it if I mess it up," she murmured.

She sat the shoes down next to the chair and leaned forward, resting her head in her hands and massaging her tight jaw and temples.

"You can do this," she told herself. "You can do this."

She had at least a week left to make her choice, a choice that would follow her for the rest of her life, a choice that would affect her kingdom, a choice that would go down in history--

"I can't do this," she whispered miserably, feeling tears spring to her eyes even as her breathing became more erratic.

"Are you...well?"

Valerian startled, quickly sitting back up, her hands holding back the scream trying to break free.

Her frightened purple eyes met shining silver ones outlined in wire-framed glasses.

Kind eyes, she thought as she gazed at the male staring at her from the library's second level balcony. Intelligent eyes. 

"I-I will be fine. Just overwhelmed," she admitted honestly, her eyes studying the male above her.

He seemed to be a few years older than her, perhaps nearing forty. There were lines on his face that suggested he laughed often, and his mouth looked soft, sensual, but not cruel.

"And that is why are you are hiding in here?" he wondered. "What is it that has overwhelmed you?"

Her shoulders slumped again, and she admitted, "I am Valerian Esh Draconig."

"Ah, I see. So you're her, the one from the noble family getting ready to experience her first heat cycle," he murmured, eyes studying her. "What troubles you? You have your pick of all males from what I've heard, including the princes."

"And therein lies the problem."

"I don't follow. " His drawn brows seemed to add emphasis to his words.

As she considered how to answer, he slowly made his way down the stairs, stopping to pick up another uncomfortable-looking chair and bring it closer to her.

"I'm not sure you should be doing that," she warned. "They probably won't like that I'm even sitting on this one."

His lips quirked, "I've done this for years and ought has been said."

Years. He must be a high level advisor. He certainly looked wise. Maybe he could help her.

"My parents are set on me choosing one of the princes," she explained.

He nodded, holding his chin in a thoughtful way that was endearing. This close he seemed quite bookish, but also rather, dare she say, handsome.

"That would be the logical move," he acknowledged. "It would raise your family's standing even farther. Your line would forever be tied to the royal line, and you would live as a pampered queen."

"I don't love any of them," she admitted. "I'm not sure I can. They're fun. They're exciting. They're excellent lovers, but--"

The man bit back a grin, and her words stalled. Had she said too much? And why did he look almost... proud?