Prologue
Sunlight poked through the cracks of the window shutters; glittering rays dancing across the tower room floor's cold grey stones. Fioraluna hadn't opened the shutters, unable to stand the sight of another perfect day. The scene would be the same as always—the tall grass in the field rolling and swaying in the breeze as well as the deep green forest that spread beyond. The trees always danced and whispered amongst themselves making Fioraluna envy them. They were surrounded by their own kind and never lonely.
Not like her. Fioraluna only knew her mama. Outside her window, she would sometimes catch glimpses of wildlife, and if she were lucky enough, once every few years, humans brave enough to chance mama's wrath to appease their curiosity about the castle ruins.
Fioraluna tried to sigh, but couldn't quite get enough breath into her starving lungs. The brace mama insisted she wear to keep her abnormal swelling down pinched her hips and constricted her ribs. It hurt.
With a cry of anger, she tore at her golden frock, peeling it down to her knees, and unlaced her brace.
The cool damp air of the tower caressed her naked upper body, making her nipples peak tightly. Tossing the offending brace aside, Fioraluna rubbed the ache, letting her head fall back with relief. Rubbing always felt nice...pinching too. The sharp little sting of pain made her feel alive, made the area between her thighs ache. Fioraluna's fingertips closed on her nipples slowly and hesitated.
If mama saw her, she'd beat Fioraluna, call her naughty. Mama said that touching her body was what had made her sick. Her chest had swelled up into two ugly bumps and once a month she bled between her legs. That was really scary. She didn't enjoy the dull ache she'd feel in the pit of her groin those days either.
Choking back a sob, she crawled across the rough stones of the floor into the lap of one of her life sized dolls. A flood of tears bathed her cheeks as she wrapped the cold rubbery arms around her.
"Mama said the villagers wanted to hurt me. Why?" Her breath hiccupped as her fingers gripped the dolls frock tightly and burrowed deeper against the lifeless doll. She imagined her doll, Lila, kissing the top of her head, patting her back and telling her it would be all right. "Why would they want to hurt me? Why am I sick? Why can't I stop being naughty?" She sniffled, feeling shame in the enjoyment she felt exploring her body, and the pleasure in the spankings afterwards.
Mama had tried to scare her saying the villagers would come get her, tie her up, and take a switch to her bare ass. The thought both frightened and excited Fioraluna, much to Fioraluna's chagrin.
"I'm naughty. I'm a bad girl and I'm ugly. Mama said so."
She cried until, weary from grief, she dozed off. A little mouse scurrying over her foot woke her. Fioraluna jumped with a gasp and looked down. Squeaky looked up at her, whiskers twitching.
"No food today. Mama hasn't been by in a long time."
Squeaky scurried away into the darkness and returned with two more mice, Twitchy and Speedy. They dragged a tiny sack between them to her toes and sat back on their haunches, their beady little eyes glowing up at her.
Fioraluna reached for their gift with a smile. Within the hand-sized woven sack were nuts.
She squealed with delight, her tummy rumbling in anticipation. "Oh, thank you."
The three mice squeaked their replies and scurried away into the darkness again.
After eating the nuts, Fioraluna pulled her dress back into place, ignoring the brace. Let mama find her with her lumps swinging free. Perhaps if she were disobedient enough, mama wouldn't leave her for such long periods of time.
She decided to practice her Echize di' Drakkur, or Dragons Lure. Mama told her she needed to practice.
Lifting her dress to bare her knees, Fioraluna crawled upon the floor to where she could see the outline of her bench before the closed window shutters. She enjoyed the cold rough feel of the stones against her skin and would sometimes roll around naked upon them. Of course, that would only lead to her wanting to touch herself so she avoided doing it.
Naughty, dirty girl—she mentally chastised herself.
She gave a little bleat of pain mingled with surprise when she smacked her head against the bench. Rubbing her sore forehead with one hand, she reached out with the other to feel around for her golden flute. Cold, hard metal met her searching hand. Wrapping her fingers around it, she brought it up to her face and nuzzled the long golden flute lovingly, shuddering at the feel of cold steel between her lips and teeth.
Fioraluna took a deep breath, pursed her lips, and blew. Soft lilting music filled the air around her and echoed throughout the chamber.
Closing her eyes, she envisioned a beautiful golden dragon soaring through the sky, his scales gleaming bright like the sun. She played for him, calling with her heart as well as her song.
Giant wings fanned the warm air as he circled, sapphire eyes glowing down at her. Two gleaming horns spiraled up from his mighty head and he had a snout full of jagged ivory teeth. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, the scales on his body lifting slightly from the rumbling vibration.
She should have feared the beast, but as long as she played her melody, he was hers, a slave to her bidding. The air, stirred by the dragon's wings, stroked through her raven tresses. She willed him to her, to kneel at her feet. The dragon landed with...
A heavy thud behind her made her jump.
Fioraluna's eyes snapped open, fingers stilling on the flute. Her lips parted, breath growing rapid as every hair on her head prickled from the shiver running up her spine.
She felt a presence. Her imagination conjured the image of a fire-breathing dragon hunkered down behind her, sharp teeth dripping with spit, ready to Raveour her in one gulp. Silly, of course, because a dragon wouldn't even fit in her tower room, big as it was. Still, her mind would not shake the image of a dragon.
Swallowing, she lowered her flute from her lips, heart racing. A fine trembling began in her body, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth to stifle the urge to whimper. She strained to hear any type of movement, but all she heard was... breathing, deep, steady—unlike her terrified panting.
A fresh clean scent, like citrusy fruit on a crisp verdant summer breeze tickled her nose. The heat emanating behind her dissipated the chill in the room. A fire-breathing dragon—she thought valiantly trying not to scream now. Slowly, Fioraluna turned her head.
She winced when her flute fell from her grasp with a loud metallic clang, her eyes going round in the gloom of the tower.
It was shaped like a person...somewhat. At least it wasn't a dragon, though the presence of the shadowy figure did not comfort her at all. The person knelt a few paces away. She could barely make out the shadowy figure. Whoever it was didn't move, just knelt there, silent, breathing.
Fioraluna turned her head away and rose, her heart seemingly pounding at the back of her throat. Putting one bare foot before the other with careful slowness, she made her way to the window shutters. The sound of her heart and erratic terrorized panting seemed to echo in the room's rafters.
