“Welcome!” I exclaimed and waved them in. “Take a look around. Please. Let me know if you have any questions.”
“Oh, my,” Frex said, bending over a display case. “I don't know what half of these items are. No, that's wrong. I don't know whatanyof them are. Ah, I see! They have descriptions. Good idea to post explanations beside each one.” He went silent as he read.
Hildra had gone in the opposite direction of her husband, drawn by the shiny things on the shelves. I grinned as they oohed and ahhed over my creations, but I also kept peering at the door, hoping others would come in. Yes, I'd just opened, but I—
A commotion came from outside, voices loud enough to draw my attention. I headed for the door.
“What's going on?” Frex asked as he joined me.
“I don't know.” I opened the door and ducked out.
A crowd was gathering. Not just before my shop, but also down the sidewalks to either side of the road.
“What's happening?” I asked those nearby.
A Ricarri turned to face me, and I nearly grimaced. Why was it that everywhere I looked, I saw a reminder of Rontor?
The man waved down the street. “The King's carriage has been sighted. He's coming this way.
“The Dragon King?” I frowned.
After my experience in the Vix Court—in particular, with its king—I had no desire to even look at another Dragon King. I would have gone back into the shop, but Frex and Hildra were behind me.
“The King!” Frex exclaimed. “Come on, Galin. He hasn't come through the city like this in months. And with the way you work, this is probably your only chance to get a glimpse of him.” He took my arm and jostled me past the milling people to the edge of the sidewalk before anyone could take the prime spots.
I sighed and stared down the street, more out of a lack of something else to do than any interest in the King. Out of habit, I smoothed my hair back. I'd worn it loose, hanging over my shoulders in cascading golden waves, as Rontor used to like it.
Agh! I need to stop thinking about him.
I was dressed far simpler than I used to, in working clothes made of stronger fabric than my old court finery.
More like Rontor used to dress. Damn it all! There I go again! All right, enough of that. Focus, Galin. Just look at the damn Dragon King. At least he'll momentarily get your mind off Rontor.
Despite its simplicity, I straightened my tunic and then my shoulders. Royalty was royalty, and this man ruled the kingdom I now called home. If nothing else, I should show my respect.
When the carriage came into sight, the crowd murmured. It was lovely, the dark wood carved with roses—the kingdom's symbol. Many of the Dragon kingdoms had animal symbols, something fearsome, but not Sken. The first King of Sken decided upon a red rose to represent the kingdom because it was his mate's favorite flower. And he was such a great warrior that no one protested. It was one of the things I loved about Sken. It had been founded on a combination of romance and power. Who didn't like that?
I was lost to thoughts of roses and Dragons when the carriage came abreast with me. At first, I was taken aback by the work of the artisans who had created such a grand vehicle. The multitude of roses had been carved so skillfully, then painted with such precision, that the real roses wreathing the carriage could hardly be differentiated from the carvings.
But then movement caught my eye. I shifted my stare from the carriage to its occupant. And felt my jaw go slack. The Dragon King was even more magnificent than his vehicle. Dark hair flowed back from a face of deadly angles—all Dragon. Those thick locks went only to his shoulders, a rather modern style for a Dragon. Adding to this oddity was a thin scar that bisected his right eyebrow, giving him a sinister look. Scars were rare on immortals, especially Dragons, who healed quicker than the restof us. Something terrible had happened to this man. Perhaps that's why his lips looked so stern, pressed together grimly. I felt an instant affinity for him, for the pain hinted at in the tightness of his features.
But then the Dragon King's face softened, and my stare slid up his long nose to stop on a pair of the most gorgeous eyes I'd ever seen. They were green, but nothing like mine. Where my eyes were a dark forest green, this man's were the palest version of the color. So pale, they looked creamy. That's it—creamy jade. No, wait. Jade was too dull to describe his eyes. They shone. They gleamed like jewels. They had depth. Peridot maybe. Or chrysoprase.
And that jewel-stare locked on me.
I blinked when I realized the Dragon King was holding my gaze. He leaned toward the window, a warrior hand gripping the rim as if he might jump out of the moving vehicle. Sunlight caught his hair, setting the dark locks to shine like his eyes. There was red in those brown tresses. Not oak, but mahogany. His hair was like polished mahogany. So beautiful.
The King's stare flicked up to the sign above my shop, then back to me. I sensed the question in him and nodded without thinking.Yes, that's my shop, that's my name, and that's where you'll find me.He nodded back as if we'd come to an agreement, his firm lips curling up into a smile that sent shivers down my spine.
And then he was gone from my sight, his carriage rolling past.
“Dear Gods,” I whispered and stared after the grand vehicle. “What just happened?”
Chapter Two
After that day, I forgot about the Dragon King of Sken. Mostly. The first couple of days after seeing him, I looked for him every time the doorbell rang. But, thanks in part to the Argaiv community and in part to the King's parade past my shop, Galin's Emporium became an instant hit. I was overrun with customers, my days spent manning the shop while my nights were dedicated to producing replacements for the products I'd sold. Restocking, if you will.
A week of that left me exhausted. I hired a salesclerk from the Argaiv community to help me. That way, I could work in the back while he helped the customers. I only came out if it got too busy for him to handle alone. This proved to be such a relief that I hired another clerk to help the first. With the three of us, we could be open every day, but everyone had a day off and no one was ever in the shop alone.
