Lord Dráiden Kaldor will do anything for his betrothed. All of the grand plans he had for a feast are thrown out the window when a situation that requires his immediate attention arises. He takes Luthandra with him, for she must learn that life in Westridge is rough. Part 1: Luthandra Raikin II. Dráiden Kaldor He knew he wasn’t a looker, and he knew women whispered behind closed doors. He was hideous with an incurable case of foul breath, but that didn’t mean he was a fool. Dráiden gazed at his future wife with a sense of satisfaction. At least she stood firm and masked whatever ill-begotten thoughts she might be thinking behind an expressionless face. Most women produced a shudder at the very least. This one will stay. I can feel it. The fingers of his right hand twitched. She’s holding her breath. Had he forgotten to chew on mint leaves!? He had been so sure that everything was ready…Dráiden extended his arm towards his betrothed. It’s no matter. She would have found out anyway. Be