My Husband, The Dragon Prince

The News

Princess Lucia was enjoying a perfectly sunny afternoon, reading a book in her garden. 

She was lounging on a cushioned bench by the fountain amongst the flowers, sunlight falling on her long golden hair. Her best friend and lady-in-waiting, Caterina, was propped up beside her, her silver glasses slid down her nose as she read.

The two sat in companionable silence, the air filled with the sweet scent of the flowers as well as the sounds of the birds singing. 

After some time, Caterina giggled.

“What?” Lucia asked, raising her head.

“Oh, don’t move!” Caterina said, though her voice sounded more cheerful than panicked, “There’s a butterfly in your hair, it looks so pretty.”

Lucia carefully looked down to see that a ruby-red butterfly had indeed stopped to rest amongst Lucia’s soft blonde curls. It was a bright contrast to her soft pink dress, though it looked rather at home with the roses.

The girls watched it for a couple of moments, but the butterfly soon realized that Lucia’s hair was not in fact a flower, and fluttered away. 

“I feel like that’s some kind of good luck,” Lucia said, “Aren’t butterflies symbols of hope?”

“They can also be symbols of change,” Caterina countered.

“I guess we’ll have to see. Say, I think it’s getting late – should we head in for tea?”

“I think that’s a lovely idea!”

The two women gathered their skirts as well as their books and began to make their way through the large palace gardens. They passed by servants, nobility, as well as other guests, chatting about their respective books.

“I’ve been rather enjoying mine,” Caterina admitted, “I love the prose that’s used, and it’s so witty! Though, it does resort to some slapstick routine every now and then, like that scene where he tries to fight windmills!”

“Oh, I know that one!” Lucia agreed, “When he thinks they’re giants! I rather thought it was metaphorical – that Don Quixote was fighting technology as well as the future, as he considers himself a relic of a time long-lost; the last true romantic.”

“Oh I hadn’t thought about that! I like it, though this is only my first read-through. How’s your book?”

“It’s lovely! The book is actually a collection of poems by Vittoria Colonna. It’s all quite fascinating.”

The two continued chatting, heading towards the kitchen to steal some tea and treats. On the way, they were stopped by a page. He bowed for Lucia before speaking.

“Princess Lucia, your father requests your presence.”

Lucia and Caterina glanced at each other. A summons from her father was...unusual, especially at this time of day. However, Lucia’s 21st birthday was fast approaching, and it was likely that King Jude wanted to talk about it.

“Why don’t you get us some tea and snacks,” Lucia suggested to Caterina with a smile, “and I’ll meet you by the wisteria trees.”

Caterina nodded, though her pursed lips displayed concern. She continued to the kitchen while Lucia followed the page.

He led Lucia to King Jude’s study rather than his throne room. So. This was a private conversation.

The King’s study was expansive, filled with liquor cabinets, maps, personal accounts of monarchs past, Jude’s favourite books and art pieces, and other objects. However, the biggest piece was the portrait of Lucia’s mother, the now-passed Queen Layla. Lucia was often told that she looked like her late mother, with the same pale, heart-shaped face; soft blonde curls; and straight nose. However, her eyes were all her father’s – a brilliant blue framed by thick lashes.

King Jude had begun to show his age over the last few years. His brown hairs had become grey, his wrinkles deepened.

“Shut the door. Leave us.”

He had also become much more curt. Or efficient, as he liked to say.

However, he didn’t speak to Lucia immediately. Rather he finished writing something with his eagle-feather quill. Lucia waited patiently. She had learned that interrupting him only made the process longer and more difficult.

Finally, he set his quill down with a sigh, interlaced his fingers, then rested his chin on them. He fixed Lucia with a cold gaze, feeling almost analytical.

“Your twenty-first birthday is in a week.”

“Yes, so it seems.” You’d have forgotten, had it not been for the preparations everyone else made.

“I’m sure you know that all of the nearby monarchs have been invited.”

“Yes, I have been exchanging letters.” Where is this going? Lucia wondered.

“Hmm. Have you been speaking with Prince Nakoa of Aina'okala?”

“A...little,” Lucia admitted, “though only the briefest of pleasantries. We haven’t properly spoken in many years.”

This was partially because Nakoa’s handwriting was absolutely dreadful, so reading his letters took too much time, not that he had much to say anyways.

“I’m sure you look forward to seeing him, then?”

“It is always good to see the others.”

“Hmm. Tell me honestly, daughter – how do you feel about Prince Nakoa?”

Lucia hesitated. 

It was rare for her father to ask her to be honest. The two of them had been rather cold and distant with each other over the years. They appeared together for public events, even dined together on special occasions. But they were not close by any means. Their relationship was honest in nature, in that Lucia and Jude did not think for a moment that they were something more to each other. However, this meant that they constantly told little lies to each other; “it’s a pleasure to dine with you”, “I’m glad we could spend this time together”, “we should do this more often”.

If King Jude was asking his daughter to be honest, it was serious.

“I haven’t seen him in many years…” Lucia began, “but from what I remember...Nakoa is childish, immature, and brash. He’s just as likely to steal a dessert from the kitchen as he is to pull my hair. He’s kind at heart, but he has no verbal filter and it gets him in trouble. And in a word...impulsive.”

Jude sighed deeply as he stood, turning to look out one of his large windows, facing the front entrance. 

“I see. I would have hoped that you’d have more positive things to say about your fiancé.”

“Excuse me?”

King Jude sighed heavily, still not looking at Lucia. 

“I am loath to admit it, but I am getting on in years. It will not be long before you are crowned Queen of Elaria, many of the others your age are already rulers of their respective lands. King Keahilani is in a very similar position, though he is more gracious than I.”

“Father, you’re not making any sense!”

Jude finally faced his daughter, his expression cold and closed off.

“Keahilani and I have reached an agreement. The night of your twenty-first birthday, you will be wed to Prince Nakoa. When the time comes for one of you to be crowned, we will officially merge our two kingdoms under one reign – your reign.”

“WHAT?!” Lucia cried, “You-you-you married me off? To Nakoa of all people?! Without telling me?! My birthday and now apparently my wedding is in a week! How long have you known about this?! Why was I not part of the decision?!”

Jude paused before saying, “Are you quite finished?”

“NO!” Lucia shrieked, “Nowhere near finished! You have ripped my entire life out from under me and you just expect me to be finished already? Am I merely an object to you, ready to be married off at the soonest convenience?”

The king’s face softened, but only in the slightest amount. 

“Lucia, you know that’s not true. I am not marrying you off by any means.”

“Then why don’t I have a say in this?” Lucia challenged, “This is my life  we’re talking about! How am I expected to be queen if I cannot choose my own husband? Unless….” she narrowed her eyes, “you plan to hand the kingdom over to the dragons.”

Jude scoffed, “Of course not, the people would riot. No, Keahilani and I are considering an arrangement similar to that of Waipahu and Iqaluit -- shared rulership of both countries, making use of ambassadors. You and Nakoa will rule over Elaria and Aina'okala equally.”

“That still does not resolve the issue of my participation in this decision. My mother got to choose whom she married, why can I not have the same right?”

“It is not a right, but a luxury, my daughter. The fact of the matter is that you will be queen soon, and you will be expected to produce an heir, and the same is expected of Nakoa. This is the best solution to bring our two countries closer together as well as solve a possible succession crisis. Besides, Keahilani has told me that Nakoa has taken a liking to you.”

“He can keep his liking,” Lucia spat, now officially fed up with the whole ordeal, “and his kingdom. I want nothing to do with --”

“That is ENOUGH!” Jude yelled, slamming his hand down on the desk. It rattled the objects upon it, as well as startling Lucia into silence, “The decision has already been made, and you are lucky that I gave you the courtesy of a week’s warning. You will be married on your birthday, then you shall go with Nakoa to live in the capital, Wana’ao to learn their ways.”

Lucia felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and she bit her lip in a failed attempt to stop her chin from trembling.

“You’re...you’re sending me away.”

“We shall see each other again -- it’s likely that you shall spend the summer here and the winter in Aina’okala, but those details will come with time. For now, you will live with your husband in his home. Any questions?”

“How could you do this to me?”

“Lucia….” Jude began, half a sigh and half a warning, but Lucia never gave him the chance to properly answer. She just turned and ran, desperate for the safety of her own quarters. 

When she reached her room, Lucia slammed the door behind her and collapsed on her bed, throwing away any care other than her own sorrow as she wept into her pillow.