Page 6 of Cadell the Dragon

What was even better, he looked happy. And it was not difficult to guess that this was due to the woman by his side, who looked equally as happy.

“Lady Johanna. You’re right welcome.” He swept a graceful bow. “You haven’t changed.”

“Jasper, you have,” she said with a smile, dropping a curtsy in turn. She had left a boy and she’d found a man. “Forgive me, I know I should call you Siaspar.”

Jasper was the English equivalent of his name, and how he had been introduced to her at the time, but she had learned during her marriage to Rhun that Welsh people did not respond too well to having their identity denied. Her husband had certainly hated being called “Rhyn” when they were in England, which she could understand. So, the least she could do was address her host by his proper Welsh name.

Siaspar, to her relief, did not appear offended in the least. “You can call me whatever you like, it makes no difference. And may I present my condolences on the death of your husband? Rhun was a good man.”

Yes. A good man. But a poor husband. Not that she would ever say that out loud. It was bad enough that she should think such a disloyal thing. But how could she prevent herself? His death, after so long spent apart, had left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Let me introduce you to my wife, Katherine.” Siaspar turned to the rather tall lady standing next to him. “We married very recently and she’s English, like you.”

Johanna was delighted by this piece of information. The people at Bryn Glas had made her feel that she was not welcome without her Welsh husband, which she perhaps should have expected, and they were barely able to exchange a few words with her, which had been an unpleasant discovery. She was glad of the respite she would get tonight. With Siaspar and Katherine, with whom she would be able to converse without any problem, she would feel, for one evening at least, that she was not a ruthless invader or an imposition and she was grateful for that.

“Thank you both for having me tonight.”

“The pleasure is ours. Come in, we are still waiting for a few guests.”

By the time Cadell trotted his horse through the gate of Castell y Ddraig, the sun had started its descent toward the horizon and he was in a frenzy. His heart was racing and his mind was brimming with questions.

Had Johanna already arrived? What would she look like now? Would she remember him?

He imagined that, yes, she would already be here, since he was awfully late. She probably looked just as beautiful as she had ten years ago, as there was no reason she would not. And he hoped to God she would remember him. He wasn’t sure how he would react otherwise.

As for him… What would he make of her? Would he still be irresistibly drawn to her? They had met only briefly, ten years ago. He had been young then, unused to women, which might have explained his sudden, violent attraction. What would he make of her now that he was a grown man? How would he behave? For so long she had represented the ideal woman in his mind; it was hard not to think that he would be disappointed. For so long she had been out of his reach; it was almost impossible to accept that he might finally be in a position to try and woo her.

“There you are,” a familiar voice called when he entered the great hall a moment later. He had barely taken the time to remove his cloak and run a hand through his disheveled hair before going in. “We were starting to wonder if you would grace us with your presence tonight.”

“Forgive me. I know I’m late.”

As Cadell had no excuse to offer for his tardiness, he left it at that. The truth—that he had been so nervous about seeing Johanna that he’d had to stop in a meadow and take a long moment to lie down and breathe—was out of the question.

“Not to worry. You’re here now,” his brother said, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

They made their way to the center of the hall together. The place Cadell knew so well suddenly seemed different. Were there more candles than usual? Was that why the colors on the tapestry by the door appeared so vivid? And was that a new sword he could see on the wall above the bench? It did not matter, he was not here to assess whatever changes Katherine might have made. Taking advantage of his height, he looked around, desperate to see a beautiful mane of black hair in the crowd.

And then he did. The crowd parted and two women walked over to them, one fair and smiling, one mysterious and more guarded. Cadell guessed that Katherine had been instructed to bring Johanna to him as soon as he arrived, yet make it look as if the meeting had not been premeditated. He inhaled, bracing himself. This was it.

“Cade, I trust you remember Lady Johanna?” his brother asked, taking hold of his wife’s hand.

Remember her? There had not been a day he had not thought of her, not a night when he had not hoped to dream of her. Nevertheless he knew that Siaspar was making it appear as if the two of them meeting was not the sole reason for this banquet and he was grateful for the intention.

“Yes, I remember her,” he managed to say. “Lady Johanna. How do you do?”

“I’m doing well, thank you.”

And then she smiled, stealing all his breath.

Dear fucking Christ.

Cadell tried to swallow past the tightness in his throat, found that he could not. The sleek black hair, the liquid dark eyes, the honeyed skin, the maddening scent, the dazzling smile, it was all here, just like he remembered them. Why had he thought that she would have lost her appeal? The opposite was actually true.

She looked a hundred times better than in his memory, a woman at the height of her feminine appeal. She would be one and thirty now, since she was five years older than he was. But age had only made her more glorious. She had been beautiful ten years ago, she was now stunning. Her face had matured, her body had acquired new curves, her confidence had increased. And he… He was well and truly lost.

Cadell knew he was staring but he couldn’t seem to stop or make himself say anything. The tightness in his throat had spread to his chest and was in danger of smothering him. Fortunately, Siaspar smoothed over the awkwardness of the moment.