Tilly Ann.
The sun was obnoxiously bright as my friends and I walked down to the training grounds. My father had summoned Kessington and I—his not-so-subtle way of forcing us to spend time with him.
Curse of having two teenagers who would rather stay with friends than spend the afternoon with their Papa.
We passed the palace courtyard where the children played. A tiny girl rushed toward me.
"Princess Tilly! Up! Up!"
I looked down into her wide eyes.
Does she know her princess is currently a mess of confusing, illicit memories?
Memories I needed to hide from my family, who were mind readers.
I needed to focus. To build a wall in my mind. My parents were powerful mind-readers; my stray thoughts were as good as shouting my secrets.
I scooped her up, tossed her, and caught her. Three more children swarmed us, all tugging at my skirts.
I was launching a giggling boy when a voice barked across the courtyard.
"TILLY ANN!"
I caught the boy and tucked him under my arm. Kessington stood at the arena entrance, his face twisted in disgust.
"Father is waiting. And you're here playing with… those things."
"You mean children, Kess?" I grinned. "Here, catch!" I fake-lobbed the boy toward him.
Kessington yelped and jumped back as if I'd hurled a live scorpion. My friends and I burst into laughter.
"It's not funny!" he hissed, shuddering. "Their tiny little hands… their beady eyes. It's unnatural. Now, come on."
Still smiling, I told Electra and Jovina to wait and followed him inside.
Mind shield up, I chanted internally. Think of boring things. Dragon feed. Saddle polish. Not Chase's hands. Definitely not his tongue.
The arena smelled of dragon and leather. My father, Adonis, was wrestling with a stubborn strap on his dragon, Thunderfore.
"You called, Papa?"
"I did.Tell me" He grunted, giving the leather a futile yank. "This match. Do you find it acceptable? Has the Dubois boy been gentlemanly? Courteous?"
A snort of laughter tried to escape my nose.
Chase Dubois gentlemanly and courteous? Funny.
"What is funny?" Kess asked.
No. He was in my head.
Think of the strap, Tilly. Just the strap.
Not the way he pinned you to the wall.
"Tilly Ann?" Father's voice sharpened. He took a step closer, his eyes missing nothing. "He did what?!"
Dragon poo. Think about dragon poo.
Too late.
The image flashed vividly, Chase on his knees before me, his dark head bowed in between my—
My father took another step, his easygoing demeanor hardening into the intensity of a Dragon Lord. "Did he do something to you?!"
He was in my head too.
I threw every mental brick I had at the crumbling wall in my mind. Shields up! Shields up!
I looked from my father's face to Kessington's suddenly alert stance.
Great. A full, telepathic audience.
"Father, he's…" I started, but the words dissolved. He touched me was a pathetic understatement.
"He touched you?!" Kessington yelled
"Kessington, get the fuck out of my head!" I screamed back, my voice echoing in the quiet arena.
"What do you mean, he touched you?" Kessington advanced, his fists clenched. "Speak fast. Before I find his invalid arse and bash his face in. War be damned!"
My mental shield faltered, and one clear, brutal truth slipped through the cracks:
Oh, poor Kessington. If you knew what he did with you just outside the door, you would explode into tiny flames.
The air left the arena.
"He was in your room?!" The roar came from both of them.
The flush on my father's face was almost purple.
The last time he was that red, I'd 'accidentally' tried to smother Kessington in his sleep after he decapitated my doll, Rosie."
Those were the good old days. The days I only had to lie my way out of attempted murder.
"Tilly! What was Chase doing in your bedroom?" Father demanded. "Was he ungentlemanly towards you? My own daughter?!"
I forced my face into calm. No need to give the poor man a heart attack.
So I rolled my eyes and gave him the truth wrapped in enough sarcasm to choke on.
"Yes, Father. I allowed the man I hate with all my heart to come into my bedroom. Allowed him to kiss me and touch me in my you know where. And I liked it very much."
He blinked.
Then he exhaled—a long, relieved breath. His face softened from purple back to its normal ruddy brown.
"So he didn't try to..."
"Of course not." I waved a hand. "If he had, he'd be missing an eye and I'd be blissfully unbetrothed right now."
Kessington swung his dragon saddle at my head. I ducked.
"Cunt," he muttered under his breath.
Father smacked the back of his head without looking.
I started laughing.
"Not funny," Father said, though the corner of his mouth twitched. He gave the stubborn strap on Thunder's saddle a final, victorious yank and turned back to his work. The subject, apparently, closed.
Thank the gods.
"Now." I crossed my arms. "Do you want to tell me why I'm being pushed into marriage with an annoying, sniveling little bastard like Chase Dubois? Why did you propose the match, Father?"
"I didn't." His voice dropped. He finally looked at me, eyes serious. "The Lycan King came to me. Practically offered me the world for you."
I blinked.
"Why?" Kessington asked. "She's barely worth two billy goats as it is."
"Shut up!" I snapped. Then, to my father: "I'm worth at least five billy goats and a baby ram. Tell him, Papa."
Father's mouth twitched again. "You're worth more than that, little girl." His voice softened. "The most powerful Alpha in existence offered me everything. Soldiers to defend our borders against the Greek fairies. Wealth. Gold. Everything, Tilly. All to make my daughter Queen of the second largest kingdom in the world."
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Kessington frowned. "Again. Why? She's... Tilly." He gestured at me like that explained everything.
"I'm a fucking catch, you cunt!"
"Don't make me smack your head, Tilly," Father warned.
"He started it!"
"Hush." He held up a hand. "You're going to be Queen, my love. A Winchester will sit on Troita Moonhill and rule. You can't be saying 'cunt' and other profanities. You have to be of exemplary character."
"Again." Kess pointed at me. "She's Tilly."
"Go home, Kessington" Father ordered.
"No. This is entertaining."
I made a face at him, then turned back to my father. "Find me another match, Papa. Any match. I'll take the town drunk if I have to. Anyone but Chase. Please, Papa."
He reached out and caressed my cheek. His hand was warm, calloused from dragons and years of work.
"It's done, Matilda. Make peace with it."
"Please, Papa." I grabbed my brother's hand. "Kessington, help me."
For a moment, his eyes softened. He took a step forward.
"It wouldn't be fair to inflict Tilly on the poor Prince," he said. "Maybe we should call it off. She's still little—"
"She's eighteen. I was already a father at nineteen."
"Like a million years ago, Papa." I gave him my best wide-eyed innocent look. "The world is different now. I'm just your baby."
He remained unmoved. "That face hasn't worked on me since you were seven. You will wed in three days."
He started toward the arena exit.
I grabbed my brother's hand and squeezed so hard he yelped.
"What if he can't father children?" Kessington blurted out.
Father stopped in his tracks. Turned around.
I urged Kess onward with my eyes.
"He's an invalid," my brother continued. "Maybe his member doesn't work."
"Member?" Father asked.
"He means cock," I clarified. Just in case it was lost on him.
"MATILDA!"
"What?" I threw my hands up. "Was it supposed to be a secret word or something?"
Father pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are going to unlearn that word, or I will wash your mouth out with soap, child."
"Okay." I took a step closer, hope flickering in my chest. "I won't say 'cock' again."
"MATILDA!"
"Okay, that was the last time." Another step. "So, Father?"
He watched me for a long moment. The arena was quiet except for Thunder's heavy breathing and the distant shrieks of playing children.
"Well," he finally said. "Until I am personally reassured by Alpha Kale Dubois on this particular matter... your engagement is on hold."
I practically launched myself at him, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Father. I love you. I love you so much."
He caught me, steadied me, but his voice was firm. "Temporarily suspended, Tilly. The most important word is temporarily."
"I'll take it."
I kissed my brother's cheek. He shoved me off and wiped his face. "You got your spit all over me. Disgusting."
I turned to leave, already planning my next move.
"Tilly."
I glanced back.
Father's face was uncharacteristically soft. "I wouldn't make the wrong choice for you, my sweet girl."
The genuine worry in his voice melted my sarcasm away.
"I know, Father." I smiled. "I'm your favorite child, after all."
"You are not his favorite." Kess turned to our father. "Right?"
Father laughed. "Of course not. She's just my favorite son."
"Funny," Kess muttered.
I walked past Thunder on my way out. The saddle strap Father had been fighting with was still loose. In one smooth motion, I ducked under the dragon's neck, yanked the leather through the buckle, and secured it tight.
"Show-off!" Kessington called. "I can't believe someone has actually agreed to marry you!"
I flipped him my middle finger without looking back.
"TILLY ANN!"
"Sorry, Papa!" I yelled over my shoulder, already through the doorway.
A grin spread across my face.
I was making progress.