Prince of Desire by Donna Grant

mother smile again,” his father said from beside him.   “You and Isabelle will help take her mind off the others.”
    All of a sudden, Isabelle turned her eyes to Lucian and smiled.   She said something to his mother, then rose and walked toward him. He held out his arms as she drew close and pulled her against him.
    “Do you like it here?”  
    She tilted her head up and grinned. “It’s amazing, unlike anything I could’ve imagined, but I would be happy anywhere as long as you were with me.”
    It suddenly hit him then. He had done it. He had accomplished a quest, a quest where many had depended upon him. He should be proud of that, and he was, but it paled in comparison to what he held in his arms.
    “I love you,” he whispered.
    “And I you, my prince.”

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
     
    Isabelle looked out over the people of Drahcir. In just a few moments time, the wedding would commence. She still didn't know how the seamstresses had finished her gown in time. It was a gown fit for a princess.
    The gold thread glittered in the deep burgundy material of her gown. The bottom had the large border that held intricate designs that were similar to the ones on her arm. There were also gems sewn on the gown – pearls, diamonds, and the most expensive of gems – garnets.
    She turned to look into the mirror again. Each time she looked at the expensively gowned woman with her hair in two long plaits and wrapped in the same deep burgundy as her gown, she couldn't believe it was her reflection.
    “Anxious?” asked a voice behind her.
    Isabelle turned to find Morag, Lucian's mother, in the doorway. “More than you know.”
    “There's nothing to be worried about, dear. You and Lucian were meant for each other.”   Morag was tall and slender, her chestnut hair showing a few strands of silver.   She held something up to Isabelle.   “Now, you're going to need this.”
    “What is it?” Isabelle asked as Morag walked up behind her.
    “Every princess of this kingdom has worn this,” she said after it was placed on Isabelle's head.
    Isabelle looked in the mirror and gasped as she spotted the small crown on her head.
    “Wear it with pride, dear,” Morag said with a smile, her brown eyes holding a kindness that still surprised Isabelle. “Now, come. It’s time, and Lucian grows restless.”
    Isabelle followed Morag from the chamber, down the long hall and stairs to the great hall where Lucian waited for her. She drank in the sight of him in his royal finery. He still wore black, but she noticed his tunic was trimmed to match her gown.   His black hair was left free to float in the breeze, and his black eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her.
    “A lovelier vision I’ve never beheld,” he said as she approached and took her hands. “Shall we?”
    “I've been waiting for you my entire life.”
    “Then you shall wait no more, my love,” he said and guided her from the great hall.
    Lucian wanted to run to the tower. After the assault from the Tnarg, he had been more than a little nervous about another attack. If he had had his way, the wedding ceremony would take place in the great hall or chapel, not on the tower for the kingdom to see. Isabelle's life was more important than tradition, but he hadn't been able to talk his parents into it.
    Much to the annoyance of his parents, he had worn his sword. There was no way he would allow himself to be unprepared if there was an attack. For whatever reason, that Tnarg wanted Isabelle dead, and Lucian had a feeling it would come back until the deed was done.   Whether or not the beast could get into their kingdom was left unanswered.
    None of the books he’d poured over had mentioned that little – very important – fact.
    By the time they reached the top of the tower he focused on his bride.   He was more than ready for the ceremony to be finished. His mother had refused to allow him to spend more than a few moments in Isabelle's company since their