The Princess, the Dragon & the Silence

By R. R. Boucher

Miriana, an Elven princess, had the misfortune of being born the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter and was considered cursed by many. Being unable to hear, she speaks not a word to anyone but her most trusted friend and personal guard, Latiera. Unwanted by her many suitors, she shunned the world and lost herself in the romantic tales of her favorite texts. She adored the adventure and romance of many and found one human author’s work to be the most appealing, particularly one that had never been finished. While others trembled in fear of the dragon’s voice, Miriana’s silent world was changed forever when the first sound she ever heard was the voice of the dragon. She could hear the wyrm’s horrifying tongue within her Elven ears and as their relationship grows, the kingdoms of humans and elves learn why a dragon should never lay eyes upon a princess and why some tales are best left unfinished.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: May 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9781483484136

Book preview

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Chapter 1

759 AF, 19th Year of His Majesty King Vallous Jhord of Taltor

T he blinding light from the portal to the Elven kingdom of Kelduna caused the gathered crowd to squint, shifting their heads to peer through the glimmering spectacle. With a crackle like a hushed strike of lightning, the first gleaming Elven boots stormed through.

Row after row of Elven men in chainmail marched into the room, their faces covered by thin porcelain masks of checkered black, white and gold. As one, they hoisted their weapons. Pivoting sharply on their heels, they came to attention with a sudden stomp of their feet. This startled some of the spectators, sparking whispers of awe at the display of discipline and finery. The soldiers stood frozen once they took formation, two sentinel rows facing inward as the portal began to open once more.

The large room dedicated to The Elven Gate was filled to bursting with the upper echelon of dignitaries from the human kingdom of Taltor, all awaiting Miriana Na’dahlu’s arrival. Many came only to see if the gossip was true. Rumors told of an Elven princess, deformed and drooling, a dullard born deaf and mute.

Emerging from the portal was Latiera Grabe, a tall, armored, human woman, her straight raven-black hair tied back loosely. She cautiously examined the room, her chocolate-brown eyes seeking familiar faces. The previous Knighted Protector of the King of Taltor, now Princess Miriana’s personal guard, recognized only the handsome young man and his advisors on the dais before her.

Prince Yordin, son of King Vallous Jhord, stood resplendent in a powder blue tailored jacket lined with polished buttons. His tasseled epaulets, accented with thread-of-gold, were outshone only by his flaxen locks. He held his breath as the portal crackled for a third and final time, a soft gasp escaping his lips as an Elven silhouette slipped from the portal.

Her eyes were lowered as she stepped forward timidly, her unmasked face hidden behind a veil of dark purple hair that flowed in curls around her shoulders. A pearlescent white gown trailed behind her, floating in the ethereal wind of the portal and exposing her delicate, unclad feet. Crystals adorned her bodice glimmering beneath the magenta tips of her hair.

As the blinding light of the portal winked out, Prince Yordin sighed in relief. She was attractive, at least.

As Prince of Taltor, he was encouraged to marry one of the seven sisters of the Elven kingdom of Kelduna. Yordin had entertained all six of Miriana’s sisters in turn, each promising but one short visit to meet the heir of Taltor. Unlike human tradition, Elven women chose their partners; they could not be forced to wed by duty. King Vallous’ humiliation grew as each Elven princess denied his son’s advances within an hour of her arrival.

Prince Yordin had pleaded with his father not to wed the youngest sister, the deaf and deformed simpleton. As luck would have it, King Vallous was away in Semboro when Princess Miriana’s letter arrived—she asked to visit the kingdom and view their vast library. Yordin responded with haste. This was the perfect opportunity to avoid marrying the broken girl. He would dump her in the library with her beloved books and she would refuse the marriage before King Vallous even knew she was in the kingdom.

Is that her? the prince asked his advisor as he absently slipped a wavy blond shock of hair behind his ear, eyes riveted on the figure before him. Miriana’s six sisters had worn traditional Elven masks, designed to conceal emotion and expression. The prince and his advisor stood in awe; they had never seen an unmasked Elven woman. Yordin’s eyes widened as his plans to dump the deaf princess in the library disappeared.

As the captivating maiden approached him, Yordin’s mind flooded with new ideas and fresh hope. He had attempted to charm Miriana’s sisters, but he had not understood the spectacular nature of Elven beauty. No human woman could hope to match her delicate, high cheekbones, her large, dewy eyes, or the smoothness of her fair skin. He could not fail this time; his father’s threats to marry him to a beast-woman of the north would worry him no longer.

Yordin’s advisor, Rhohin, was an old man, short in stature with wrinkles rolling halfway up his sun-tanned scalp. As the princess approached, he thanked the gods for losing his hair and not his eyesight. He swallowed hard before replying, seeking his voice. Yes, my Lord. This is Princess Miriana, the seventh daughter of Queen Selsier.

As she approached, Miriana’s large, green Elven eyes flitted nervously between the two men. Prince Yordin furrowed his brow in confusion. She hardly looks like an imbecile, he observed, glancing at Rhohin.

Rhohin’s dark skin paled. "My lord, she is deaf, but she can read lips—as I mentioned several times."

The prince’s blue eyes widened briefly as he blatantly raised a hand to hide his lips. How is that possible? I thought they wore masks—is it Elven magic? Rhohin clenched his jaw as the princess and her personal guard, Latiera, came to stand before them.

Not magic, my lord. I assume it is her keen Elven eyes, Rhohin lowered his head in a deep bow, obscuring his face from the princess. Also, it may seem rude to hide your lips while you speak.

I told you, Miri, Latiera began, he hasn’t changed in six years—good-looking, but rude. She followed her harsh words with a chuckle, ignoring the prince’s embarrassed smile as he lowered the hand covering his mouth.

Miriana smiled in return, thankful for her personal guard’s blunt manner. No man in the kingdom would dare speak against Yordin, but Latiera was no longer in service to him or his father—she had left the kingdom of Taltor thinking she would never return.

Latiera had been gifted to the Elves six years earlier, and was then chosen as the Voice of Princess Miriana, seventh daughter of Queen Selsier of Kelduna. Latiera followed the princess everywhere, speaking for her through a subtle code of hand signals established between them, although they typically discussed important topics well ahead of time. She was never without the long sword that swung from her right hip, its pommel glistening with a golden symbol of the crown. It was a reminder of her previous role as a Royal Protector – a Knight.

I didn’t mean to be rude, the prince eventually replied, his eyes darting between the imposing Latiera and the slender Elven girl who would only bashfully meet his gaze.

Latiera took a deep breath, biting her tongue. Despite being chosen by Miriana for her bold honesty, she had been instructed to remain civil. This place brought back bitter memories, but that had been years ago. She was thankful that the rest of the royal family was not in attendance.

She watched as Yordin’s eyes roamed over the Elven girl before him, lingering on her curves. Miriana’s breath began coming in short, uneasy gasps. The studded leather of Latiera’s ornate Elven armor creaked as she stepped forward, shielding the princess from view. Will you be showing us to the library then?

Of course! Yordin replied quickly, peering over Latiera’s shoulder. I hope we won’t spend all day there; I was hoping to get to know Princess Miriana a bit, he smirked as he extended an arm expectantly, waiting for the princess to take it, perhaps over a meal?

Miriana glanced nervously towards Latiera before stepping forward, reluctantly taking the prince’s arm. Yordin was short for a man, but the petite Elven princess made him look half a giant. She kept her head bowed low, adding to the illusion. Her face she hid behind loose, dark bangs, carefully keeping Yordin’s lips in sight.

Princess Miriana wishes to be alone in the library, Latiera interjected, looming over the pair as they walked through the halls, positioning herself in a practiced quarter turn for Miriana. She reads best without distractions.

Yordin’s jaw tightened and he forced a smile. Oh, do stay for lunch. We have a very special meal planned, he mouthed to the princess, speaking slowly to help her understand. Nod if you understand, he finished with raised, expectant eyebrows.

She can understand you perfectly, Prince Yordin. You do not need to speak slowly, although I wonder if I should slow my speech for you, Latiera said bitingly. She could no longer blame his age for his uncouth manner; the prince had grown spoiled and churlish in his rich surroundings.

Yordin continued to smile, hiding his frustration that a woman—once in his father’s service, no less—would speak to him so casually. So, Elves enjoy human literature, do they? In that case, you have come to the right kingdom, Yordin said, adjusting his voice to a normal tone and pace.

Rhohin leaned in behind the prince to whisper a few words. Our kingdom was once home to some of the greatest human writers, Yordin repeated, smiling brightly as though the words were his own.

Yes, that is why we are here, Latiera replied with annoyance, watching Rhohin and the prince attempt to use Miri’s deafness to their advantage.

King Thorben, my ancestor, Yordin parroted on, gathered the greatest collection of books the world has ever seen. He also authored many great works. A few hand gestures between the knight and her young ward told Miriana that the two men were communicating where she was unable to see.

Latiera cleared her throat loudly while looking to Rhohin. Princess Miriana has collected his works since the opening of the Elven Gates. She hopes to find more of his books, as well as those of a similar author she adores, Latiera explained with a smile as she handed a parchment to Prince Yordin, crossing Miri’s vision briefly. Perhaps you’ve read some of them? Her smile grew malicious as she offered him a piece of parchment.

Yordin’s face stiffened as he took the paper, handing it quickly to Rhohin, who read it in silence as they turned down the corridor towards the great library.

Still struggling to read, Yordin? Latiera asked flatly, staring forward to avoid the prince’s glare. Or is Miri’s handwriting just difficult to read?

Her handwriting is outstanding, Rhohin answered without thinking, his eyes widening at the elegant script. Yordin turned his glare on his advisor, who quickly corrected himself. I mean, it’s so fluid that it would be hard to discern for anyone who has not read letters with the Elven flow of scripture.

There are greater qualities in a leader than his ability to read, Yordin stated haughtily as he opened the towering wooden doors to the Library of Taltor, the largest in all the kingdoms, dwarfing even that of Centra. Our family has possessed the largest library for generations, but that is not our only jewel. A smile crept over his lips as Miri’s green eyes soared to the towering shelves around her, her open amazement and pleasure amusing him. We have many wonders that no other kingdom can offer the Elves, the prince boasted as he walked past a suit of gold-plated armor filigreed with silver, standing before a wall of books that climbed far above its helmet.

Rhohin silently scanned the list of books and authors that Princess Miriana sought. Only his furrowed brow and drawn lips hinted at the concern he was feeling—her requests formed a troubling pattern.

Miri is only interested in the library, Latiera reminded him, crossing her arms. If all is sorted properly, we shall not be here long.

Miriana’s emerald Elven eyes widened as she turned a corner to find the room open up before her. Countless shelves and side corridors extended in every direction, and a pair of spiral staircases at each end of the room led to more floors with more shelves and a seemingly endless array of books. It was grander than any collection she had ever imagined, let alone seen.

While Miriana’s attention was fixated on her literary desires, the prince’s voice grew harsh, I’m trying to impress her, Latiera. Don’t forget your place!

Latiera’s jaw tightened. Miriana turned back to them briefly and the prince put on a playful smile and laughed. His face hardened again as Miri turned away. Don’t you care how important it is for Taltor and Kelduna that I get to know her?

"Wealth alone does not impress a princess like Miriana. Manners, the ability to read, and kindness will be the way to win her affection, Latiera said with a cold tone Yordin had already grown tired of. She searches the books to find a true, heroic prince— as so few exist in reality."

Yordin took a step toward her with a snarl. You ungrateful wench! After all my family has done for you, he glanced toward Miriana and saw her turning in their direction as she slipped away between the towering shelves. I will remember this. He forced a smile as he stepped back. Mark my words, Latiera, I’m not as forgiving as my father.

Latiera focused on the aisle Miriana had disappeared down and followed after her, brushing past Yordin, ignoring his cold stare. You’re not going to charm her, young prince. She is an elf from a magical kingdom a world away. What could you possibly do to impress her? Latiera shot over her shoulder.

Before Yordin could reply, Rhohin tapped his shoulder and whispered in the prince’s ear, holding out Miriana’s note. Are you sure? the prince asked. His face turned from bewilderment to sinister glee as Rhohin nodded anxiously.

My lord, you can’t—

I don’t believe such nonsense! Yordin’s grin was terrifying. Rhohin scurried frantically after the prince, whispering appeals to his sense as he stalked through the maze-like library.

Miriana! Yordin said with a wave once he caught sight of her down a long row of