Ignorance is Bliss

The perfect partner doesn't exist. There, I said it. It doesn't matter how many frogs you kiss, they'll all stay frogs. Princes are only real in fairytales and in distant lands that you have no possible hope of having a chance at. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either a liar, a damn liar, or a complete idiot. That's what I thought... until I met him.

Viktor Ravenscroft was the perfect man. He had everything: smoldering good looks, charm, charisma, and a fantastic sense of humor. On top of that, he was the heir to a family fortune that made Bill Gates' estate look like a piggy bank. "Old money," he called it. I never pried much into his personal history. It felt intrusive and dishonest, like looking a gift horse in the mouth. All I really knew about him was that he was descended from a long line of European aristocrats. Somewhere in the Balkan states, I think. I didn't care to know anything else, and he didn't seem to like talking about his past so I decided it wasn't important.

He didn't care much about his wealth anyway. In fact, he tried to give away as much of it as possible whenever he could. On our very first date, I witnessed him drop ten thousand dollars - in cash - into the upturned cap of a homeless man. The poor guy started crying on the spot, and everyone around us looked at Viktor like a fatted calf ready for slaughter. Afterwards, I asked him if he knew that man. His answer shocked me: "No, but everyone deserves kindness and generosity. I don't need that money, but he did. That's all."

We had been going out for three months when he popped the question. Three months. There was no question that I loved him to pieces, but even I was surprised at his proposal. The setting was perfect: a beautiful outdoor cafe on the river, soft music from a strolling violinist, red roses on the table. He'd even worn a tuxedo, and had his shoulder-length ebony hair trimmed and styled for the occasion. If you looked up a tutorial on how to propose marriage to someone, every bullet point was represented here. I can't even begin to describe the ring. That rock was enormous; the most flawless pink diamond ever dug from the bowels of the earth. He looked so happy. His alabaster face split with a huge gun, and his pale blue eyes twinkling with eager anticipation for my answer. What could I say except "yes"?

In the weeks that followed, my soul attention was on wedding preparations. Viktor set the date - December 1st of the same year - which was only two months away from when he proposed. In hindsight, the sudden, strict timetable he put our nuptials on should have been a red flag. Even I wasn't expecting his reasons for it. I was just happy to finally be getting married at last. After years of getting teased by my friends and family for being an old maid at 31, I'll admit it felt good to rub that ring in their faces. He insisted on a small ceremony, less than twenty people, which was also strange but agreeable. I came from a small family and had a relatively miniscule circle of close friends, and he had no living family that I was aware of, so it worked out. All the other details he left up to me.

I first began to suspect something was off when he started taking those long trips. He would disappear in the middle of the night, leaving for days or even a week at a time with no contact, no notice of where he was or when he'd be back. When he returned, he wouldn't say a word. All I knew was that he seemed exhausted, irritable, and grim. On returning from one of his more recent trips, I noticed him walking with a limp for two full days. Another time, I walked in on him getting ready for bed and he had these long, awful scratches and bruises all over his back. It worried me, but I was too scared to ask about them. I guess I was afraid to have my illusion shattered, to realize that I was getting married to a man I barely even knew.

Two weeks before our wedding, I awoke to find him gone from our bed yet again. At that point, it no longer surprised me that he wasn't there. I assumed he had gone off on another trip, until I headed downstairs for breakfast. A pair of voices - loud and angry - filtered through the partially closed dining room as I approached. One was definitely Viktor... the other was that of an elderly female, which I didn't recognize. It felt wrong to eavesdrop, but I was worried about Viktor, and I wanted to know what was going on with him.

"You can't keep this up," the woman was saying. "If one more young Drake initiates the Challenge, you will die!"

Viktor grunted in reply, and I heard a noise that sounded like a large, wild dog growling. "I know my own limits better than you, Clarice. Hurry up already, before Mia wakes up."

Clarice snorted in derision. "Mia... that's her name? To think I should have lived to see a mortal become the new Queen of the Drakes; it makes my scales itch just entertaining the thought!"

My head was reeling and my heart racing. Queen of the Drakes? What on earth were they talking about? And what did she mean by calling me a mortal? It didn't make any sense. I tensed when Viktor hissed loudly through his teeth.

"I have chosen Mia as my mate. That's my decision, and you will just have to live with it! She may be mortal, but she's kind and smart, and loyal to a fault. She will be a fitting Queen."

"And what of the dissenters?" Clarice shot back. "Do you think they will be happy to have a mortal on the throne, instead of a Drake woman?! All you're doing by mating with her is painting a target on both your backs! It's beyond foolish, it's suicide!"

I covered my mouth to hide a yelp at the sound of something breaking.

"You speak out of turn, Clarice! I'll ignore it this time, but you will do well to remember your place in the future!" There was a long pause, then Viktor sighed and lowered his tone to a near whisper. "The dissenters are few, their numbers dwindling every day. As long as I can keep the Hoarde protected, and secure my lineage with an heir before the Spring Solstice, I forsee no major problems from them."

More silence, then Clarice huffed out a breath. "Are you even certain she will survive her first clutch? Drakes and humans were not meant to reproduce. If she lives, the offspring will be Half-breeds; abhorrent in the eyes of the Council. They will never be allowed to inherit the Great Hoarde, nor your title."

Viktor spoke too quietly for me to hear, but honestly I had heard more than I wanted to. My head was filled to bursting with information, desperately trying to wrap around the words swirling in my skull: Drakes... clutch... half-breeds... mortals... hoarde... It was too much for me to handle. I wondered if I was still asleep, or if I'd suffered a psychotic break from worrying too much about Viktor. The room around me was spinning like a carousel at Mach 1. It was getting hard to breathe. The next thing I knew, the world tilted on its axis and the polished marble floor was rushing up to meet me.

I awoke back in bed. Viktor was laying beside me. It had been a dream all along. I was relieved... until I realized he was holding an ice pack against my nose. His impossibly pale blue eyes glittered with concern as his fingers ran through my long, red hair. "Mia, are you okay? We found you passed out in the downstairs corridor."

I didn't know what to say. If I admitted what I'd heard, would he think I was insane? Would he break off our engagement? What if he didn't deny it at all? What if everything I'd heard was true, and he really was an inhuman monster? The thought made me queasy, and regret every decision I had made up to that point in my life.

His face was still the same. Those same eyes that looked upon me with love, passion, and worry. The same long, glossy black hair that tickled my face when he leaned over me. The same soft, gentle touch of his hand on my cheek that made me quiver all over. This man was no monster. He couldn't be.

"What... are you?" I managed, wincing as speaking made my sore nose twinge. My voice came out muffled and much more nasally than usual. Based on how much my nose hurt and the fact that I couldn't breathe through it, it was probably broken. A cherry on the crap sundae that was my life right now.

Viktor hesitated, chewing on his supple, pale pink lower lip. After a few minutes, he rolled off the bed and stood in front of the footboard. "It's easier if I show you. Brace yourself... but please, don't be scared." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tilting his face toward the ceiling. Right before my eyes, a pair of bright blue, bony spires pushed through his temples. They curled backward like a pair of ram's horns over each ear, which grew longer and pointed. His pale skin adopted a faint bluish tinge, just as a massive pair of matching irridescent blue wings sprouted from his back. When they spread out fully, their span was wider than he was tall. He cracked his neck side to side and flexed his hands with a soft groan, rumpling his features as streaks of white, blue, and silver appeared throughout his hair. At the ends of his fingers, his nails lengthened into wickedly sharp, curved silver talons.

Once his transformation was complete, Viktor opened his eyes and locked his gaze on mine. The entirety of each eye from edge to edge had gone pure silver, with a long, black cat-like slit for a pupil in the middle. The room dropped twenty degrees in a span of sconds, and I swear a tiny flurry of snowflakes began raining down around his shoulders. His expression was guarded and a little timid, as if he were more afraid of me than I should have been of him. Honestly, what I saw was amazing and magnificent. If Viktor was handsome before, now he was exquisitely beautiful to behold.

I couldn't resist the urge to get out of bed and approach him. He took a shy step back, clearly confused by my reaction or lack thereof. Getting up close revealed that he had gotten taller. I mean, he was already taller than me by several inches, but now the top of my head was level with his sternum... and I am not short. I ran my hands slowly along his chest and shoulders, surprised by how cold his skin was to the touch. He flinched a bit when I touched his wings. They were soft as worn leather but shimmered like ice, so cold they nearly burned my fingertips. I cupped his face in my hands, studying those gorgeous silvery eyes looking down at me with uncertainty, and seeing my own blue eyes reflected in them. I saw them widen a little when I pulled his head down so I could reach his lips to kiss them.

Like the rest of him, they were quite cold but not unpleasant against mine. While we kissed, I noticed his teeth had become sharper too, most prominently his upper and lower canines. I didn't mind a bit though. After a few minutes, he broke the embrace and laid a few gentle kisses on my cheek, jaw, and neck. I shivered when those sharp teeth grazed my flesh with an extremely gentle love bite. We would have gone further if not for a very sharp, loud "Ahem" from the door.

An older woman, possibly in her mid-to-late fifties, was standing in the doorway. Her snow white hair was cropped short and tinged with green on the ends, which matched her vibrant emerald eyes. A set of small, stubby horns that looked more like tree roots protruded from her deep brown forehead, and her green, moss-like wings flapped as she waddled into the room. "I hope I'm not interrupting. That dressing needs to be changed, and I've got something for her nose... unless she wants to look like a racoon in your wedding photos?"

It was then I noticed the large bandage wrapped completely around Viktor's middle. The white gauze shimmered with pale green threads, and was splotched with a fist-sized sapphire stain near his right oblique. Viktor rolled his eyes with a sigh and moved us both back to the bed, sitting on the edge with me. I didn't know who this woman was, but I recognized her voice.

"You must be Clarice," I said, trying to keep the edge from my voice. As grateful as I was to have her try and fix my broken nose, I wasn't too happy to have our moment spoiled. "I'm Mia... the lowly mortal. It's nice to meet you."

Clarice only grunted in response. From the leather bag slung around her wide, stout frame she produced a small glowing bottle with a shimmery pink liquid inside and pressed it into my hands. "Drink this. Just one small sip, now. Too much might kill you."

I hesitated, but ultimately obeyed. The liquid was warm on my tongue and vaguely fruity, like wild strawberries or raspberries. Honestly, I couldn't quite place it. I wanted more right away, but the bottle was snatched from my hand before I could take another sip. Seconds later, I heard a loud crack and a blossom of pain spread across the middle of my face. I cried out from it and covered my face on instinct with both hands, blinking away the tears that sprang to my eyes. To my amazement, the pain dissipated within three seconds. I could breathe again through my nose, and it no longer felt swollen or tender under my fingers.

I was still marveling over how my nose had healed while Clarice was tending to Viktor. She already had him laying down on the bed and was cutting away the soiled gauze. The grisly wound underneath made me swoon a little and cover my mouth. I'd never seen anything like it: Viktor's flesh was torn and jagged, like a creature with enormous fangs had taken a bite out of him. His body was already showing signs of healing, which was good, but the skin around the gaping hole was raised, irritated, and spiderwebbed with tiny, greenish-black veins. I moved my hand to my newly-healed nose, swallowing a gag at the strong, sour odor coming from the wound.

"It's not healing fast enough," Clarice muttered. "Typical of the Poison Tribe. You're lucky to have walked away alive from that Challenge."

Viktor's eyes were closed and his face tense with pain, but he shrugged nonchalantly all the same. "It's nothing. You should've seen the other guy. Just wrap it back up so - Ahh!" He cut himself off with a hiss, and a long, low growl echoed around the bedroom. It sounded like the animal I had heard from the dining room, but I was startled to realize it came from his own throat. "Easy," he snarled, baring his fangs at Clarice. "That hurt!"

"What do you want, an apology?" She snapped back. "Of course it's going to hurt! Just lie back and be still!" As she dabbed at the wound with a variety of potions and liquids, she clucked her tongue. "If only your father could see you now... he'd be mortified. The great King of the Drakes, Master of the Great Hoarde and Commander of the Four Winds, bound to a mortal woman. It's no wonder so many have initiated the Challenge in such a short time frame."

"Challenge?" My voice sounded thin and a little shaky as I made myself look away from the wound on Viktor's body. "What is this Challenge you keep talking about? And who or what did this to him?"

Clarice looked to Viktor - almost like she was asking silently for permission - before answering my question with a harrumph. "Every hundred years, young Drakes from each Tribe have the right to Challenge... to unseat the King and become the Master of the Great Hoarde. The Ice Tribe has had command of the Hoarde for the last Millennium. However, I fear that may soon change."

"So what if it does?" Viktor grumbled. "I never really wanted to be King of the Drakes anyway. It's an outdated patriarchy, run by fools and imbeciles. If I could give it up without losing my life, I would."

"Bite your tongue!" Clarice hissed. "Whether or not you wish to be Master of the Hoarde, you are! You knew the responsibility of your duties the moment you took up the mantle. Now, you must live with them or die losing them!"

"I was young and stupid," Viktor said pointedly. "Still practically a child! I had no more knowledge of what I was getting into than a lamb heading for slaughter." He looked to me then and softened, taking my hand in his chilly grip. "All I want now is to live in peace, with my Queen at my side... if she'll still have me."

I'll admit, I was still overwhelmed. When I met Viktor, I could hardly hold down a job and keep my plants alive. My life was a mess. I didn't know the first thing about being a queen. And, I wasn't sure I wanted to. There was no one more unsuited for the job in my opinion. What I did know was that I loved Viktor, and I trusted him. He believed in me so deeply, and it was clear he wanted to keep me safe. Why he'd kept this side of himself hidden from me became clear as well. Being the King of Drakes and Master of the Great Hoarde seemed like a hard job, one that was dangerous as well as mentally and physically exhausting. It wounded me deeply to know that he shouldered that burden all by himself. I wasn't too certain about my ability to be a good queen, but I wanted to help him carry his load if I could.

"I'm scared," I admitted. "But I love you, with all my heart. It might take a little time to figure out this whole Queen of Dragons thing, but I'm with you... all the way, no matter what. You have my word."

Viktor smiled with relief, showing off his sharpened teeth. "That makes me so happy to hear. Thank you, Mia. I love you too. Always."

A fortnight later, I found myself walking down the aisle. The ceremony was a brief, wonderful blur, almost as wonderful as the Drake I gave my vows to. We danced the night away, and early the next morning he flew me out for the first time to see the Great Hoarde. It was a spectacular sight to behold: a mountain of treasure hidden deep underground. I'm not allowed to say its exact location, but let me tell you it is breathtaking. Every time I see it, it brings tears to my eyes.

As I write this, I'm expecting my first clutch. Clarice says it won't be long now before the big day comes. I'm a little scared, but also excited to be a mom. Viktor has never been happier. I don't know exactly what the future holds for me our our children, but whatever happens I know I'll get through it just fine with my King at my side. Being the Queen of the Drakes is tough for sure, but being his Queen has brought me more joy than I could ever imagine.