He was not much better when he reached home, for he could find no relief in sleep. The dragon’s voice boomed loudly through his dreams as the dragon’s eyes searched for him and the dragon’s claws tried to dig him out. He would wake, soaked in sweat and breathing hard, and the voice would die away, only to be replaced by whispers that dogged his waking hours.

Sometimes Marcus would hear from Draconas, but the dragon had always the same news to report, “I cannot find them.”

Perhaps due to the rigors of the journey or his anxiety, a few days after arriving home, Marcus was afflicted with a mild fever. Despite his insistence that he was “not so bad,” he was pale and had no appetite. His terrified mother, remembering how close she had come to losing him, bundled him off to bed and summoned the royal physicians.

They eased Ermintrude’s fears by basically agreeing with Marcus’s own assessment that he was “not so bad.” They recommended several days’ complete rest. Nothing was to be said to upset him or fret him. Ermintrude immediately banned all visits from Edward and Gunderson and provided her son with more pleasant company in the form of the Lady Izabelle. Ermintrude hoped that nursing the young man from injuries suffered in a heroic action would cause love to bloom in the lady’s heart. And how could Marcus, in his weakened state, resist those warm, doe eyes and gentle demeanor?

Marcus lodged an appeal with his father. Sickness was well known to be a woman’s province, and Edward was not inclined to argue with his wife anyway, for he was also concerned over Marcus’s health. The king abandoned his son to a soft and perfumed captivity, though Edward did what he could to help lift the prisoner’s spirits by urging Marcus to regain his strength and quickly at that, for he might soon be needed.

Marcus swallowed the medicines and drank the broth and lay in his bed listening to the Lady Izabelle read to him or play the harp and sing. He was impressed, as his mother meant him to be, with the lady’s courage in choosing to remain in the castle. He was touched by her obvious admiration for him, and he found that looking at her was far more agreeable than staring out the window at the soldiers manning the castle walls. He found, too, that her voice, which was sweet and melodic, was the only voice that could drown out that of the dragon.

He thought he might be falling in love with her.

He remembered the moment. He’d been in his little room, eavesdropping on the dreams of the dragons, hoping to stumble upon information that might help save his people, when he felt a hand touch his hand.

He opened his eyes to find Izabelle by his side.