“What had she told the priest?Hawk had said their holy man could not perform the wedding unless he was sure the bride was willing. Had there ever been one less so?Her eyes were downcast, she would not meet his gaze no matter how fiercely he willed her to do so. But the priest was smiling. He nodded to Dragon even as he addressed Hawk."Ah,well,now that is taken care of. We will proceed as you wish, my lords.""Immediately then," Hawk said. He did a decent enough job of hiding his relief but Dragon wasn't fooled. Until that moment, not even the Lord of Essex had been sure the marriage would take place.Krysta appeared at Rycca's side. She spoke to her softly, distracting her as she guided her to a small room off the great hall. There the bride would wait while the guests, her scowling family, and one stern-faced groom assembled in the chapel.”
“The Lord spoke to her of his love for her-that she was his daughter, that he cared for her, that he had died for her. He said that he would have died if she had been the only one. He would have suffered at Calvary for her sins, if hers had been the only ones.”
“He was pale skinned,with eyes like honey and hair that held the promise of fire.Had Rycca been a man,she would have looked just like him.Happy,happy day that she was not."What brings you to Hawkforte,friend?" Dragon asked as he took the seat opposite his new aquaintance."I seek work of my sister,the Lady Rycca of Wolscroft.I have had troubling word of her in Normandy and wish to be assured of her safety."Trouble involving Rycca? How astonishing. Dragon hid a grin and said, "You would be called-?""Thurlow.And you are-?"This time,Dragon's smile would not be denied. "Ah,well,as to that,therein hangs a tale.”
“What is it?” Dragon asked.“There is a man, lord, just off a ship from Normandy. He’s in the tavern over there and he’s asking for the Lady Rycca.”“Is he? What manner of man?” “Tall, slender, actually he looks rather like her ladyship. He says she is his sister and he seeks word of her.”“Does Rycca have yet another brother?” Wolf asked. He was close to Dragon and had overheard the exchange. The news had him fingering the hilt of his sword.“Yes, she does, but I gather he’s an altogether different sort. Do you mind finishing up here?”“Not at all. Go ahead.”Scant minutes later, Dragon set a horn of ale in front of the visitor from Normandy. The young man looked up, startled. He was pale skinned, with eyes like honey and hair that held the promise of fire. Had Rycca been a man, she would have looked just like him.Happy, happy day that she was not.“What brings you to Hawkforte, friend?” Dragon asked as he took the seat opposite his new acquaintance. “I seek word of my sister, the Lady Rycca of Wolscroft. I have had troubling word of her in Normandy and wish to be assured of her safety.”Trouble involving Rycca? How astonishing. Dragon hid a grin and said, “You would be called—”“Thurlow. And you are—?”This time, Dragon’s smile would not be denied. “Ah, well, as to that, therein hangs a tale.”
“He spoke simply, without boastfulness and his words rang all the harder for their simplicity. "I am Dragon Hakonson, Lord of Landsende, and I have indeed come to claim my bride."Scarcely had he uttered those words than Rycca began to laugh, at first softly, then helplessly. She doubled over, holding her waist, as the sheer, horrifying absurdity of it all overwhelmed her. She had risked her life to flee from the very man to whom she had given herself and who stood now before her, outraged because she had betrayed him with...himself.”
“He lifted his gaze to the framed photograph of Tanya and him taken on their wedding day. God, she had been lovely. Her smile had come through her eyes straight from her heart. He had known unequivocally that she loved him. He believed to this day that she had died knowing that he loved her. How could she not know? He had dedicated his life to never letting her doubt it.”