Married To The Cursed Dragon Lord

Keeley POV:

I was given a room in the most remote attic of the estate. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light from the grimy window, and the air was thick with the smell of mildew.

I pushed the window open. In the distance, the black peaks of the mountains marked the border of the Stark territory, Ironwood. Legend said the very trees there had turned to iron-gray under the weight of the curse.

My gaze swept over the gloomy mountain ranges and settled on the distance. Kamilah—my sister, the only one in this family who had ever brought me warmth. Her laughter, her kindness—all had vanished with the wind, leaving behind nothing but an unsolved mystery and endless grief. I had come here, precisely for her.

From my worn satchel, I took out a small metal case. Inside, nestled in velvet, were rows of herbs that shimmered with a faint light, alongside a set of delicate surgical tools. The tools of Pharmacist X.

My mission was to investigate my sister Kamilah's death. House Stark was my primary suspect. Marrying into the family was the only way to get inside the beast's den. But I had to do it on my own terms.

My thoughts were interrupted by the door being shoved open. Marian stood there, flanked by two servants carrying a wooden chest. Her face was still pale, but her eyes burned with a venomous, triumphant hatred.

She gestured for the servants to open the chest. Inside were my mother's things—jewelry, books, and a small, elegant harp. Lady Elara's legacy.

"I admit, Keeley, you have some brute force and a bit of low cunning," Marian said, her hand caressing the harp. "But in this house, you are still nothing."

She picked up a string of pearls, dangling it in front of me. "Your mother's things. Beautiful, aren't they? But if you don't obediently marry the Lord Stark, these items, along with everything else she left you, will be sold off, piece by piece, to fill the family's coffers. You will have nothing."

The threat was a physical blow. I looked at the items, each one a memory, a piece of my past. It was the only leverage she had over me.

My fists clenched. "You wouldn't dare."

Her smile was victorious. "Watch me. Either you marry him, or you watch your mother's last memories be auctioned off to the highest bidder. The choice is yours." She swept out of the room, leaving the open chest in the middle of the floor like a silent ultimatum.

Not long after, there was a knock. My father, Alistair Mccarthy, stood in the doorway. He was impeccably dressed, but his eyes were tired and evasive.

He glanced at the dagger I hadn't bothered to hide. "Put that thing away. Marian told me everything. You've become a savage."

A cold laugh escaped my lips. "If not for this 'savage' tool, I'd likely be gift-wrapped and on my way to the Stark's dragon den by now."

Alistair sighed, stepping into the room. "Keeley, the family business is in serious trouble. We need the capital from the Starks. This is your duty to the family."

"My duty?" I cut him off. "When I was exiled, left to fend for myself, where was the family's duty to me?"

He was speechless, his face flushing.

I looked at him, my voice flat. "I'll marry him. But I have conditions."

Surprise, then suspicion, flickered in his eyes. "What conditions?"

I held up three fingers. "First, my mother's entire inheritance, including the estate south of the city, is to be returned to my name immediately."

His face changed. "Impossible! That estate has been mortgaged!"

My eyes narrowed. "Then find a way to buy it back. Otherwise, you can explain to the Starks why their bride has vanished before the wedding. I don't imagine a cursed Dragon Lord enjoys being embarrassed."

I continued, "Second, my dowry. It will be half of the Mccarthy family's annual income, paid to me in cash. I want to see the money before the wedding."

Alistair stared at me as if I were a stranger. "Are you mad? The family can't afford that!"

"That's your problem," I replied coldly. "Isn't a 'Dragonless' daughter marrying a Dragon Lord worth that much?"

I held up my third finger. "Finally, the family will cooperate fully with my reinvestigation into my sister Kamilah's fall from the cliffs. No obstruction."

Alistair was silent. He looked at me, his eyes a complex mix of shock, anger, and a weary, powerless acceptance. He knew I was no longer the girl he could easily control.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice hoarse. "The inheritance... I'll see what I can do. The dowry... it's too much. One-third, at most."

"Forty percent," I countered immediately. "Not a penny less. Or the deal is off."

We finally reached an agreement. Alistair drafted a contract on a sheet of parchment bearing the Mccarthy family's dragon crest, a symbol of its binding legal power in the kingdom.

I signed my name, watching as he stamped it with the family seal.

He folded the contract, his gaze heavy. "I hope you don't regret this, Keeley. Cornelius ... he is not a man you can control."

A cold smile touched my lips. I didn't need to control him. I just needed to use him to find the truth. Then he, and everyone who had a hand in Kamilah's death, could go to hell.

After he left, I went to the window, looking toward Ironwood. I pulled out a worn silver bracelet, Kamilah's only memento she'd left me. I traced the patterns on its surface. Wait for me, sister.

I needed the money. I needed to contact my informant in the black market, Rhys Porter. I needed everything there was to know about Cornelius.

To hunt, I first had to arm myself. Money and land were my weapons.