All Chapters of Reclaiming My Beloved Dragon Prince: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

[Eleanora] Not again. Dear gods, not again. As Primus, my last chance mate, falls beneath me, my clutch begins to tear free. These eggs are only 2 months old--far too soon to be laid. But I know the signs. I feel the tell-tell sensation of them ripping away from me, the pressure to bear down and push them from my body greater than my need to hold onto them. Again my body fails me. Despite the Technician's assurances that any seed would be good enough to strengthen my clutch, again I feel their warmth slipping from me. The first time this happened, was when I watched my beloved husband suffer after the fall of his brother. We were able to extract a sample from him and using the tools we salvaged from our private facility, impregnate me again before anyone could be the wiser. But this is my fourth clutch. As it is now, my hold on the senior court is based solely on my ability to produce a royal heir to guide me into a new glory for Luxandra. They don't care which brother is the fat

[Carnelia]There is a monster in the room. Something so dark and twisted and strange my brain cannot understand it. It walks on two legs, but the legs move unnaturally and make a weird whirling sound with every step. It has two arms, but they seem disproportionately short compared to the rest of the body. It has a hunched-over back but seems to be looking from up high.And when it speaks, it sounds like something from a nightmare of some place dead and hollow."Let's get her hooked up and into the tub," it said as soon as it saw me standing there, next to Primus' prone, injured form. The creature and its assisting soldiers do not care that my body is frozen in shock, mortified as I see what they have done to my poor husband's body. It doesn't try to help me understand before it starts the procedure. A guard is instructed to hold me down while another places this strange contraption of wires and tubes over my mouth. My eyes widen in pain as they continue to insert tubes with no warning

[Carnelia] To the casual outside observer, Emerald Cove is a raucous place that never sleeps--especially on a festival day when the streets are crowded with visitors. Lords and ladies, thieves and concubines, traverse side by side, enjoying the tastes and sights of a town taken over by debaucherous frivolity. On days like this, it is not unusual to find a man stripped of his dignity with a smile from ear to ear lying in a pool of his own shame. In other words, the people of Emerald Cove love a good party. Unfortunately, during the summer almost every day is a festival day. And for us poor individuals who live and work here every day, these days are absolute drudgery. Nobody works harder on a festival than a member of the Barmaster’s Guild. "Hey wench," a drunkard Lord something or the other, motions for me to come fill his tankard. I pretend not to hear him, not liking the tone of his voice nor the way he leers as he tries to catch my eye but instead finds his gaze falling on my

[Primus] When the guildmaster approached me with an offer to bed the girl as payment for my help, it took all of my strength to smile and nod instead of punching him in the nose as he deserved. The way he grinned and salivated as he looked her way sent a shiver of fear down my spine and I began to wonder if maybe he had set me up for some kind of scam. Maybe he saw an opportunity to make a little extra coin by setting up some poor idiot to save the damsel in distress. It wouldn't be the first time a sleazeball like him did this kind of thing. He offers the goods for free and then sets the lord up the next morning with the guard at his throat demanding payment, which is usually significantly higher than it would have been if I paid in advance because the innkeeper needs to pay for the guard to arrive, and being the honorable men that they are, they expect a little coin in gratitude for their services. I might be new to the bard lifestyle, but I'm no fool. I can see what he is about.

[Carnelia]This minstrel has a strange sense of humor. For example, it is not funny that I woke up in a strange bed with a strange man thinking we had done strange things while I was unconscious from too much drink--and yet he was laughing hysterically just a few moments before.Similarly, it is not funny that I cannot fit into his trousers with the roundness of my hips being as they are. I did not ask to borrow them, and yet here I am, awkward and uncomfortable. Thankfully, his guild friend, a sweet girl named Julie, had a few pairs that were able to work.And it's good that we found those because his last joke is the least funny of all."A boy," I bark indignantly. "You have got to be joking.""I'm serious," he insists. "It will be easier for a couple of guild brothers to travel together than a minstrel and his 'lady,'" he says in a way to imply anything but 'lady.'" and my cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment."I'm not your whore," I shout. A few young men walking through the gu