Page 38 of Cadell the Dragon

Standing in the middle of the solar, his hair disheveled and his clothes dusty, was not Cadell but the last man she had imagined to see.

“No,” she said in a whisper. It could not be. Was she having visions? Her husband was supposed to be dead. He could not be here. She placed a hand on the wall for support. This had to be a trick of the light. A ghost? A twin brother she had never known about? Then the vision spoke in the voice she knew all too well.

“Good evening, Johanna.”

It was not possible, it could not be. And yet it was.

“Rhun.”

The word barely had time to pass her lips before she collapsed in a heap on the cold stone floor.

When he opened his eyes before dawn that morning, Cadell took a moment to savor the feeling of completion. For the first time in his life, nothing was missing. The weight in his chest, which had plagued him for more than a decade, was gone, and with good reason.

Today was the day he was going to marry the woman he loved. And tonight, he would make her his.

At last.

He got up with a smile, got dressed with laughable haste, and exited the room with the eagerness of a stallion about to launch himself into an exhilarating gallop.

He had spent the night at Castell y Draig, as that was where the ceremony would take place later today. Siaspar’s offer to host the wedding had touched him deeply. It had been the perfect solution, as Bryn Glas was not yet ready for such a significant gathering. To his delight, the servants there had welcomed the news of his union to Johanna. It seemed they had concluded that the two of them belonged together.

Good, because they definitely did.

In the great hall, Cadell found Siaspar alone, sitting at the table, writing a letter. His brother had always been an early riser, another thing the two of them had in common, and he was glad to have someone to talk to. He might well expire from impatience if left to his own devices while he waited for the people to arrive from Bryn Glas.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Siaspar smiled as he took in his appearance. “Ready for the day, I see.”

Cadell laughed. That was putting it mildly. “I’m sure I would have seen you in pretty much the same state had I been allowed to attend your wedding to Katherine.”

“Yes. You would have.” The wedding in question had taken place in her village in England and Cadell had regretted not being there. But he understood that Siaspar had wanted to marry her as soon as was possible, after all the obstacles they’d overcome to be together. “But I distinctly remember that I felt none of this eagerness the day I married Lady Malpas. Quite the opposite.”

Indeed, the marriage to a lady chosen for necessity had been a disaster. Fortunately, he had been able to rid himself of the woman, and to then marry the woman he loved. Just like Cadell would do before the morning was over.

Smiling, he poured himself a cup of ale.

Siaspar stood up and handed him a piece of parchment. “Here. A message just arrived for you.”

“A message? At this hour?”

Frowning, Cadell opened the missive and stared at the four cold, impersonal sentences in incomprehension.

Cadell, I cannot marry you. Forgive me. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. J

Everything within him froze.

What the hell was that?

Here he was, dressed for his wedding, ready to welcome the guests and his bride was telling him—nay writing to him, in four measly sentences—that she could not marry him after all. The ink was blotched in one place, as if a tear had dropped on the parchment while she wrote. The writing was hurried and uneven, betraying her agitation. Well, he bloody well hoped she had been agitated when penning this shocking message that put an end to all his hopes!

“What is it?” Siaspar asked, worried by his sudden immobility.

“Johanna.”

He could not say more, for fear he might vomit. Throwing the letter on the table for Siaspar to read if he wanted to, he ran to the stables to saddle Haearn. If she thought he was just going to accept her shocking decision, then she didn’t know him at all.

A moment later, he was thundering out of the gate, his heart thumping at the same rhythm as the hooves of his stallion.