Free Dragon Castle by Joseph Bruchac

princess gave me this. Doesn’t it smell wonderful?”
    I managed to control myself and not say that its scent reminded me of the spices used by awful cooks to cover the fact that their food has gone bad.
    â€œPaulek, don’t you think you’re rushing things?”
    I might as well have been talking to a tree, for at that exact moment the princess appeared at her window and gestured to him.
    â€œLook, Rashko, there she is.”
    And with that, deaf to any further words I might utter, he left my side to go stand beneath the window and stare up at her.
    With Princess Poteshenie as my brother’s intended, the baron is not an interloper, but a relative-to-be. As Paulek’s wife, the princess would become a legal heir—should our parents not return—to our kingdom.
    The thought of that makes my skin crawl.
    I do not know much about marriages. Why should I? I’m only fifteen. It is always the older brother who marries first. But I do know that everything about this potential marriage is wrong. If my parents had a say in this, it would be short and direct. In a word, Nie! No!
    Despite their obtuseness, my parents always recognize honesty and integrity. They would have seen through this crew of—whatever they are—in a heartbeat. They would never have allowed those heavily armed men to cross the drawbridge. They might have invited the baron and his princess—but not their retinue—in to dine, bringing them through the sally gate when a single wide plank can allow one person at a time to enter. No forged invitation from Father would have been produced. One word from Mother would have broken or prevented whatever spell it is that was cast over my gullible brother.
    I imagine what it would have been like at the end of that dinner.
    â€œSuch a pleasure to have met you.”
    â€œWe do hope your charming daughter finds a suitable young man for herself.”
    Then Temny and Poteshenie would have been escorted from Hladka Hvorka and lodged not in our guest quarters but in the small drafty cottage outside the castle while my parents went to bed early.
    At cock’s crow the next morning, Georgi would have brought them a cold breakfast and firm good wishes for them to have a pleasant journey as they departed our valley.
    My father, though his sense of humor is a bit limited, would likely have chuckled about it all later.
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    A SWORD TAPS my arm. It wakes me from my musing.
    â€œ Bratcek, ” Paulek says, “are we not going to spar?”
    Spar? How can he even think of that at a time like this?
    But it is not a bad thing. I’ve noted over the last three days that this practice yard seems to be the one place where my brother is able to think about anything other than the princess. I follow him down the stairs and through the archway onto the yard.
    Two days ago, the only way I was able to pry him away from staring out his window at Princess Poteshenie sitting in the garden below was to suggest a match. Even as far gone as he is in infatuation, the thought of blow and counterblow, steel ringing against steel is still able to get his attention.
    My hope is that while we fight I may talk some sense into him.
    Perhaps even now before we start?
    â€œBrother, don’t you think you are too young for marriage?”
    Paulek knits his brow.
    â€œShouldn’t you get to know her before you take such a big step?”
    He scratches his forehead.
    â€œRemember what Father always says, that one must take slow steps on unfamiliar ground because it might prove to be a bog?”
    Paulek stares down at the blunt sword in his hand.
    Unfortunately, I have just asked him three questions in a row and topped them off with a proverb. It’s a burden too heavy for his thoughts to lift.
    â€œBog? But the nearest bog is on the other side of the forest.”
    â€œPaulek, do we know these people well enough for you to agree to a marriage?”
    Paulek lifts his eyes to