(This excerpt is from an unproofed version of Once Upon A Dragon. There may be typos and some details may be differ from the final version.)

Chapter One

GROWING up in a palace had not prepared Prince Asher for the exertion of hauling sod and laying flagstones.

Back twinging from bending and kneeling too long, Ash nudged the stone one last time to square it up to the neighboring paver. Then he stood with a groan of achy relief. He arched back as far as his spine would flex, face turned up to the late summer sun.

Not even the tutelage in statecraft he’d received from Uncle Tomas prepared him for the way his muscles burned and stung when he twisted from side to side.

And statecraft, when practiced by the Sea Dragon Clan, leaned more toward espionage, reconnaissance, and occasional covert strikes than politics and diplomacy.

“You there! Get back to work.”

Ash winced to find Eaomon glaring at him. The Master Gardener of the Glicien Royal Palace had been pushing his army of laborers relentlessly for weeks. In anticipation of the upcoming masked ball, someone had decided to turn the rocky hillside behind the castle into a huge, terraced garden. The man’s stress was beginning to show in his increasingly strange clothing choices.

Today, Eaomon was wearing a finely embroidered blue satin waistcoat over a thin, work-worn linen shirt and scuffed leather breeches.

With a roll of his eyes, Ash ignored the man, who’d already turned to harangue a poor kid planting an ornamental bush three inches too far south. Still, he had to give Eaomon credit. In the two weeks since Asher joined the work crew, the gardener had managed to achieve a miraculous transformation of the once forbidding landscape. But with only days to go, Ash wasn’t sure even Eamon’s tenacious dedication could accomplish the near-impossible feat.

Glancing past his own section of the patio, Ash noted the uneven pavers being laid by a former baker. Even if they did get it all done, it certainly wouldn’t all be done well.

That wasn’t his problem, though. Ash was here to find answers. To search out rumors of covert magic within the palace. To find any scrap of knowledge that might rescue his parents and his kingdom from the duplicitous clutches of the Grey Enchantress. The final state of the garden was the least of his concerns.

Thoughts of his family made him press his fingers against his shirt, where his signet ring hung beneath the fabric, hidden from prying eyes.

Like other drakes of Ardell, he’d been gifted his sigil on the day of his birth to denote his lineage as a dragon shifter. Concealing it felt wrong but wearing it openly would expose him twice over.

First as being from Ardell, the only kingdom where humans and drakes lived side by side. And second, the royal crest adorning the dragon carving would reveal him as a member of the royal family. Considering the lies that Velia was telling about Asher and his siblings while she consolidated her control of Ardell, anything that betrayed his identity could cost him his freedom.

Or his life.

Which was why, despite spending days covered in sweat and dirt, taking a job on the gardening crew was perfect. It gave Ash access to the well-defended, nearly impenetrable palace. There was enough chaos in the desperate race to finish preparations to cover Ash’s occasional wanderings. Even the constant grime had its uses, despite his usually fastidious nature. No one would recognize simple itinerant laborer Ash as one of the three missing princes of Ardell.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet been able to slip inside the castle. And the current crop of gossip wasn’t much help in his quest. Everyone was focused on the king’s failing health, the upcoming masked ball, and Princess Beatrix’s sudden urge to find a husband among the noble guests who’d be attending it.

It was almost impossible to get anyone to gossip about Beatrix and her sisters. Or the chaotic, hushed up events that led to the other two triplets being exiled from the palace. Outside of Glicien stories whispered of wild magic. Of raw power so out of control the girls had to be hidden away for their own safety. And for the good of the kingdom.

Inside Glicien, however, loyalty to the royal family was strong and incorruptible. No one would breathe so much as a word of speculation to an outsider. Which meant Ash needed to search inside the palace proper and find the answers for himself. Before he ran out of time.

So he picked up another stone and moved a few paces closer to the palace before setting to work again. The ornate doors leading into the ballroom were wide open, allowing the faint breeze inside. Offering mild relief to the laborers busy scrubbing floors and windows, polishing silver, and hanging festive drapes of fabric in decorative displays.

If he could slip inside, Ash was certain someone would wrangle him into heavy lifting or fetching and carrying.

Working within the palace would get him one step closer to the inner sanctum of the Royal Family and the secrets he sought.  Once there, he’d used the skills his sister had taught to recognize the different forms of magic. And, hopefully, find the solution he desperately sought.

The relics, imbued with power and a singular charm or purpose, waiting to be activated by anyone who held it. Or the power object, simple items filled with raw energy, useful only to someone with knowledge of spells and the training to unleash the magic. Or the more familiar dragon magic that fueled his transformation between forms with its silvery tang and wild, unfettered energy.

Ash hadn’t quite made it to the three shallow steps leading up to the doors, however, when Princess Beatrix appeared in the doorway. Flanked by her ever-present chaperone, Lady Everly, she paused on the top step, taking in the progress before searching out Eaomon. Her appearance sent a quick rush of whispers through the work crew. Most of the time, Everly checked in on their progress. Though, considering her giddy, giggling questions and the constant air of confusion, Ash had to wonder how much of what was going on the princess’s companion really understood.

Despite her rare visits to the garden, this wasn’t Ash’s first glimpse of the Glicien heir. Every time she appeared, though, Ash had to remind himself that he was here for duty, not pleasure. He’d never had to observe that line before, and his impulsive nature balked at the unusual restraint.

Because Beatrix was breathtaking. Golden hair spilled in carefully controlled waves framing pale eyes, a delicate nose, and softly curved lips. More than her beauty drew Ash, though.

There was something about Beatrix’s presence. She was always calm, always poised. Competent and in command. Yet she always had a gentle smile and a quiet word of praise for everyone, whether they were laborers, guards, nobles, or the staff stuck somewhere in between.

If his own kingdom weren’t in turmoil, Asher might actually consider, for the first time ever, attending one of these consort-hunting gatherings.

Her attention moved from the workmen planting greenery on the terraces, to the half-finished fountain in the center of the garden then across the ragged edge of the stones being laid for the patio.

For a brief moment, when her gaze swept past him, Ash was locked in her pale green eyes.

Then Lady Everly, her coppery curls shining in the sun, gestured toward the far terrace with her usual bubbly enthusiasm. Beatrix turned to look at whatever her companion pointed out, while her feet continued forward, carrying her unerringly closer to one of the uneven pavers.

Pure instinct propelled Asher, without pausing to consider the risks.

Her toe caught the edge of the stone and she lurched forward, off-balance and stumbling toward a dangerous fall.

Lady Everly gasped in dismay, hand reaching out, but unable to catch the princess while Eaomon froze with uncertainty.

But Ash slid in front of her before she lost her balance completely. His hands curled around her shoulders, steadying her and keeping her upright.

“Careful, your Highness. We still need to smooth out a few areas,” Ash murmured, lightly setting her back on her feet. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Thanks to your quick action, Mr…?”

“Ash, your Highness. Just Ash.”

The shortened form of his name was common enough not to call attention. And it was easier to act normal when you weren’t constantly trying to remember what to respond to.

Beatrix’s lips curved up, but it wasn’t the gentle smile she graced everyone with. This was warmer, wider, and felt much more personal. Especially since they were standing so close.

The sudden escalation of his heartbeat was a complication Ash couldn’t afford. Letting go, he put a step or two of distance between them. Smudges of dirt and stone dust streaked the delicate pink fabric of her sleeves where he’d steadied her.

He lifted his hand, intending to brush it away. Then he thought better of it. He pulled his hand back, tugged off the thick work gloves and tucked them into his belt before the grime coating them made any more of a mess. Not that the sweat and stone dust clinging to his newly formed callouses was much of an improvement.

“Sorry. About the dirt.”

“I would have experienced much more damage if you hadn’t caught me,” Beatrix said with an unconcerned glance at her shoulders. Then she frowned down at the paver that had tripped her up. “The patio isn’t supposed to be quite so uneven, is it?”

Eaomon blustered about leveling and finishing touches, but, unable to help himself, Ash leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Most of the workmen are farmers and stableboys and tinkerers who saw the call for labor at the palace and hoped to make a small stake of their own. None of them are afraid of hard work. But none of them are trained in stone-laying or landscaping, either.”

“And you? Are you a farmer, then, looking to make your fortune?”

The question could have been flirtatious, but there was too much curiosity, too much honest consideration for it to be anything but genuine interest. Ash couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or intrigued by her sincerity.

“I’m afraid I’m just a jack-of-all-trades, your Highness. I go where the wind blows and work is plentiful.”

“And the work is still plentiful here,” Eaomon interjected with a sharp glare at Ash. “Perhaps you could help Boern finish setting this section of stones. If you don’t mind getting some work done today?”

Asher bit his tongue and held back the cynical reply that sprang to his lips. Instead, he only nodded silently, accepting he’d need to let Eaomon boss him around for at least a few more days. He did however, bow deeply to the princess and her lady, before turning away to help continue extending the patio.

Eaomon, sheaf of sketches and plans clutched in his hands, guided the women to the first terrace.

Ash, knowing his reaction was ridiculous, did his best to ignore the princess as he worked. Yet, every second she spent in the garden, he knew precisely where she was, without having to turn his head. His awareness was tuned to her like a magnet.

And when she and Lady Everly finally retreated into the palace, Ash wanted more than ever to find a way inside.