Dillon nodded. “Thank you for explaining that to me,” he said quietly.

“Nidhug and I will leave you two to become acquainted,” Kaliq said. “I will rejoin you for the meal later.” Then, taking the arm of the dragon, the Shadow Prince walked from the small throne room.

“I am twenty-two,” Dillon said when they were alone.

“I am seventeen,” Cinnia responded.

With a wave of his hand he conjured a perfect white rose, and offered it to her.

Cinnia glared at the rose, and it withered and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Surely you do not mean to make a puerile attempt to woo me?” she said scornfully.

“Considering that we do not know one another yet are wed, aye, I was attempting to make a small effort on your behalf,” Dillon responded. And he held out his hand to her. From his fingers hung a beautiful necklace of green stones that matched her eyes.

Cinnia sniffed, pointed a finger and the necklace shattered into dust.

A kitten appeared in his outstretched palm.

She hissed, and it turned into a writhing viper.

Dillon flung the viper into the air, and they were showered with a burst of pink snowflakes.

Cinnia laughed aloud and he grinned back at her. Then she grew solemn. “It isn’t you, my lord. I am simply angry at this turn of events.”

“You wished to be queen of Belmair in your own right,” Dillon said quietly.

“Yes!”

“But tradition dictates Belmair be ruled only by a king,” he continued.

Cinnia nodded. “It isn’t fair! I am the sorceress of Belmair, and I would be a good queen to my people. There was no males available from the ducal families, and then Nidhug said I must marry a Hetarian and he would be the new king. Hetarians are an anathema on Belmair.”