Chosen Bride of the Seven Dark Princes

"Aaaargghhhh!!!" The brown haired girl shrieked.

To everyone's immediate horror, the two girls began wrestling on the ground. Lyra still had her death grip on the girl's long brown hair and used it to keep her down.

The girl began kicking and clawing at her, but with little effect because she was still being held down by Lyra.

Immediately, a group of guards jumped in and separated the two of them.

They held the girls back to keep them from attacking each other, but while one of the guards held onto Lyra, the other guard let go of the brown haired girl.

Seeing an easy target, since Lyra was being held in place by the other guard, the brown hair girl reached out with her long dragon claws and took a swipe at Lyra.

Without hesitation, she used the guard behind her as an anchor and delivered a double roundhouse kick at the dragon girl's claws with her long strong legs.

"Aaaargghhhh!!!" The brown haired girl shrieked again as her claws shattered from the powerful kick that Lyra delivered, dripping blood onto the ground.

This time, Süren intervened. He pulled the guard off Lyra and picked her up into his arms.

FWOOOMPH!!!

His dragon wings unfurled from his back as he took a running leap into the air, carrying Lyra away from the mob scene.

"Süren!!!" The brown hair girl screamed from the ground. "Süren come back!!!"

Ignoring her cries, he held Lyra tight against his chest and took off for the Royal Castle.

"My mother is still back there!" Lyra cried out.

"It's okay. My guards will take her to us in minutes. I just needed to take you away from all that craziness."

"Süren." Lyra turned to him frowning. "Who is that girl?"

Süren sighed. "It's a long story. Let me take you back to my palace and I will tell you the entire situation."

============

Süren's palace was a stony grey citadel of a castle situated off a cliff overlooking a wild rough grey ocean. Aside from the various red flags flying atop the half-dozen turrets, there was very little in the way of decorations or colors.

A winter storm was brewing up in the distance and it looked to be a doozie! Already, heavy gusts of wind were howling and kicking up snow drifts everywhere.

Lyra was sitting in front of a warm cheerful fireplace with a warm mug of hot chocolate, being looked at by a court physician.

"I'm perfectly fine, but thank you for being so careful." Lyra laughed. The old physician was making a fuss over a few minor scratches on her arms and legs and was tending to them with medicines and bandages.

"Small wounds can turn into large infections if we don't take care of them when they are inconsequential." He said as he continued his ministration.

After bandaging them to his satisfaction, the old man proclaimed that she was in perfect health and left her to enjoy her hot drink.

Lady Gwendolyn was seated to the left of the fireplace, holding onto a decanter of something a bit stronger than chocolate. She looked over at her daughter with a newfound sense of awe.

"I knew you had learned a few moves from Slate, but I didn't think you were that accomplished." Gwendolyn shook her head.

Lyra grimaced. "Brother Slate insisted that I learn how to defend myself. Of course, he also taught me much of the offensive moves too, just for times like these."

"Times like these? You were anticipating times like these?"

Lyra nodded. "Slate said I might have to defend my man from other girls, so knowing how to street fight was just as important as knowing how to break out of holds and run away."

Gwendolyn shook her head, unable to respond. The daughter she had tried to raise to be genteel and soft was actually a kick-ass street fighter.

This was the result of having Slate for a brother. She had known the siblings spent time together practicing martial arts but she hadn't realized Lyra was so accomplished.

Süren was at his desk, a few feet away, dealing with stacks of critical documents that had piled up during the time he was away.

He would have preferred to be sitting next to the mother and daughter team, acting the gracious host, but these were time-critical things he had to deal with and the best he could do was pull up a hover desk to be near them while he worked.

His mouth pulled up at the corners when he heard her say that she was defending her man from other girls.

It was a strangely satisfying response, one that made him feel warm and tingly on the inside.

She was staring into the fire, absently fondling the dragon opal that he had given her. It gave Süren a surge of pride and joy that she was touching the precious gift he gave her with possessive fingers.

They hadn't talked much, but it was like that with Lyra. She understood him without needing a lot of words.

She understood the power of the dragon opal he had given her. That alone told her what she needed to know and what her position was in his life.

Süren sneaked another peek at the young girl sitting on the large wing chair by the fire with her bandaged legs propped up and warming her toes on the hearth.

She looked like she owned the place and was enjoying some cozy time with her mother nearby.

His heart skipped a beat.

He would give her everything he owned just so she could remain in that chair every day, sipping her drink and keeping him company as he worked at his desk, for the rest of their lives.

Weaponry, political liaisons, and great wealth. These were the things he needed to build up if he were to have a chance to keep her.

"Your Royal Highness." His attendant was calling his attention again.

"Speak."

"The two men you requested are out in the hallway waiting for you."

Süren stood up and made his way out to the hallway beyond the Great Library.

The two men stood, heads bowed.

"You." He pointed at the man to the right. "Do you know what your offense is?"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." He bowed again.

"And what is that?"

"I pulled the Princess Lyra back from the fight."

Süren shook his head. "No. That wasn't your offense."

He walked up to the man and pointed at his face.

"Your offense was holding onto the Princess for far too long and not allowing her to defend herself against someone charging at her. You were colluding with the enemy to harm an Imperial Royal Member of Erenveil."

The man quaked.

"That is a capital offense." He nodded at one of the guards standing behind the man. "Take him away. He will be executed at dawn."

The man was dragged off pleading and crying.

Süren turned to the other man, who had lost all color to his face.

"Do you know what your offense is?"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness."

"And what is that?"

"I failed to hold onto the Lady Sharina and gave her a chance to attack the Princess Lyra."

"Wrong." Süren shook his head. "I was standing right there. I saw you release Sharina so she could have a free and clear shot at the Princess, who was still being held captive by the other guard."

Süren growled. It was a sound that rose the hackles of every man in the hallway.

His eyes glinted a fiery red.

"That is another capital offense. Your sentence—Death."

Without even bothering to move his head, Süren shot a loaded glance at the guard standing behind the man.

As the man was hauled away, Süren turned back into the Great Library, where warmth and light and his heart was still sitting there, warming her toes by the crackling fire.