I slept late into the morning, waking to a bath gone cold and my maidservant, Hen, napping by the fire with the mending on her lap. My head no longer hurt, but I possessed an impressive array of bruises from where I had landed, falling from the gauntlet, and bathing was a painful affair. Hen woke just as I was struggling to dress myself and tsked over the bruises as she finished lacing me.
“It’s not right for a princess,” she told me in disapproval. “Jumping and fighting and running around. It’s one thing for a hero like Princess Tarragon, but surely there is no need to put you through this my lady. The prophecy is not about you, after all.”
“To end the slaughter,
Not dragon son, but daughter,
In the right hand,
Rivyn’s sword will save the land,
If the lamb chosen is wrong,
Love’s sacrifice will not be strong,” I quoted. “It’s the second to last line that’s responsible for me being here,” I grimaced as she braided my hair. “Just in case it’s not Tarragon all of her sisters get to suffer. Next year, it will be Shara’s turn and I am equal parts sorry for her, and pleased that, at long last, I won’t be the bane of Ecaeris’ day.”
“Poor Shara,” Hen giggled.
“Poor Ecaeris,” I grinned back. My next younger sister, Shara, had inherited every grain of dragon from my father. If she did not wish to do something or speak to someone, she would simply turn her head and ignore it’s existence. Unlike myself, she could not be bullied into participating. She had been the torment of all our nursemaids and governesses, causing more than one to resign their position in the household. The only person who could pull Shara into line was our father, and even that was a battle of dragon stubbornness of epic proportions.
“You should eat something,” Hen finished my hair, winding the metal thread around the base of the braid to hold it in place.
“Not enough time,” I rose and grabbed my grimoire and cloak from the table by the door. “I am late.” It was only magic class, thankfully, and Daerton had a soft spot for me, being as I was named after him. Whilst I was magically ungifted, thanks to his patience and more gentle teaching methods, I was technically adept at least, and I usually enjoyed his classes – or, at least, didn’t leave them injured and with “runt of the litter” ringing in my ears.
I ran through the hallways, narrowly dodging the dark elves that patrolled them, Akyran’s court, and the servants that attended us all, and arrived at the doorway to Daerton’s classroom breathless and disheveled despite Hen’s careful hairdressing.
“Ah, Daethie,” Daerton gestured for me to enter. “Perfect timing. We were just about to see Aien’s talent.”
Aien stood within the center of the ring of desks, two patches of color hectic on his cheeks, and looked just as unhappy to be the focus of attention as I normally was. I slid into the open desk, between Rue and one of the knights, Liam, the tall blonde-haired man looking disapprovingly down his nose at me.
Liam had made it perfectly clear that he did not believe that I belonged at the Monster Hunting academy. With the exception of Tarragon, who was destined to be a hero, Liam believed that princesses belonged in castles, embroidering favors whilst waiting for knights like himself to rescue them.
I didn’t disagree, other than with the embroidery. I had no liking for that occupation either.
“Aien’s father is an expert in metamorphosis,” Daerton announced to the room. “Something I actually studied with him at one stage. Metamorphosis involves the transformation of one thing to another. Now, that can involve, for example, turning water into wine, or human into pig, but Derien Verstarjen has refined his ability to transforming people into statues. Marble, granite, iron…”
“Sounds great,” Liam said under his breath. “Sounds like someone waiting for the right knight to come and put an arrow through their throat.”
Aien’s eyes flickered our way, and I felt my cheeks heat. I didn’t want him to think that I shared Liam’s opinion.
“Their throat?” I repeated. “With your sight, you might want to aim for something bigger.”
Liam sent me a surprised glare and his mouth opened to retort; however, Rue caught his eye, my big brother raising his eyebrows. “How is your head today, Princess?” He asked through his teeth instead. “That was a heavy fall yesterday.”
“Daethie’s head is rock solid,” Rue snickered. “We should ask the ground how it is after being hit by her skull yesterday, rather than the reverse.”
“Ahem,” Daerton cleared his throat, ending the conversation. “Aien, we are very intrigued.”
“I’m afraid it’s not impressive,” Aien replied evasively. “I am not my father.”
“Few of us are,” Daerton said dryly.
Aien drew in a deep breath and reached into the pouches that hung off his belt, plucking a few small items from each, and holding them on the palm on his hand. I felt the hair on my arms stand on end as his eyes focused on his palm, his expression intense, and a breeze seeming to stir its fingers through the overgrown shag of his hair.
The small items on his hand shook, and then small white furls curled out, extending, and growing green, spreading into stems and vines, unravelling leaf, and tightly pursed bud suddenly breaking open into flower until in his hand he held a posy of bright blooms.
“Oh, how pretty,” Tarragon exclaimed in admiration. “May I?”
“I…” The points of color on Aien’s cheeks deepened, flushing over his face. He shrugged and rounded the desk to deposit the bunch into Tarragon’s waiting hands.
“Thank you, Aien,” she lifted them to her nose and inhaled. “They’re beautiful.”
His shoulders hunched and he flicked the hood of his cloak up around his head as he returned to the desk within the circle of desks.
“Thank you, Aien, that was very… interesting,” Daerton said, and I could tell that he was amused. “It is always interesting how magic evolves over the generations.”
“What got into to you today little Gecko?” Rue asked me under his breath as Daerton continued the lesson. “Did that fall yesterday knock some sense out of you? It is not wise to provoke knights like Liam.”
“He’s a bully,” I replied under my breath.
“Yes,” Rue replied. “But we all are. That’s what a knight is, Dae.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be. Our father isn’t a bully.”
“Our father isn’t a knight.”
“I wish we lived in a cave and not a castle,” I hissed at him. “Because then we wouldn’t have to do any of this stupid - ”
“Daethie?” Daerton arched an eyebrow breaking off his lecture. “Have you something to add?”
“No,” I flushed painfully. “No. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm,” Daerton’s brows pulled together, but he continued the class.
I spent the rest of the lesson glaring at the knots on the tabletop, only looking up as the class broke and a seed was placed on the knot I had been glaring at. I looked up in surprise, and flushed as I met Aien’s eyes, dropping my gaze bashfully to the seed which was sprouting into a bloom-heavy stem of dragon flowers in a soft lilac-blue.
“Oh,” I whispered, enchanted by the pretty bloom.
“Red might be more appropriate,” Aien said softly. “But these are the precise color of your eyes.”
I lifted my eyes to his and his lips curled, his eyes warming in response. My heart began to race within my chest. Before I could think of something clever to say in response, he adjusted the hood around his face and strode away, leaving me speechless and clutching a snapdragon the precise color of my eyes.
All the newer students lined up in the courtyard for drills. As I took my place, I saw Aien in the row ahead of me. He glanced around, looking for someone or something, perhaps a friendly face amongst the crowd, and his eyes fell on me. He stepped backwards, to stand at my side.“What is this?” He asked me. “Is this meant to be a sword?” He looked at the wooden practise sword that he held in one hand.“Drills,” I told him. “As training goes, this one isn’t so bad, as long as you stick to the middle and try not to stand out. The sword master will lead us through the poses and postures,” I nodded up to the raised platform. “We just copy her.”“Why do I suspect that it’s not as easy as you make it sound?” He wondered.“Because…” I lifted my chin to the wall where the dark elf guards had gathered to watch. “And…” I inclined my head to the base of the wall, where the senior knights were gathering. “They’re meant to be practicing hand to hand combat, but… They mostly watch. And mock us.”“G
“Reckless foolishness,” Hen grumbled under her breath as she helped me dress. “In a tourney maze is no place for a princess.”“Val and Cara will watch out today,” I told her. “And my father is in the audience.”“Should not be required,” she cinched my ties tighter than necessary in her irritation. “Princesses should not be put in such danger.”“It is good training for the real world, Akyran says,” I replied. “And keeps the knight’s keen and sharp.”Nerith castle cupped the inner courtyards, and during the tourney, Akyran and Ecaeris transformed the neat gardens and lower balconies into a maze of obstacles. The courtyards were large, but in an impressive feat of magic, Akyran and Ecaeris multiplied the dimensions to an impossible scale, creating a true labyrinth for the competition, and once you stepped into it, the maze seemed to spread for miles in every direction.As I joined the line up of competitors between Rue and Val, I saw a couple of knight errants spot me, and laugh, wonderi
“My father wasn’t always this way,” Aien said as we walked through the maze following the trail of debris, blood, and broken weaponry. “A villain I mean. Things were different when my mother was alive. She was…” He paused where someone had smashed a statue, the stone rubble scattered across the path and offered me his hand. “Be careful where you step. My mother was beautiful,” he did not immediately release my hand when I had picked my way through the debris and stood looking down at me thoughtfully.“She was kind,” he said softly. My eyes fell to the softness of his lips and wondered what they would feel against my own. “And she looked after others. She would have liked you. You remind me of her.” He released my hand and continued along the walkway. “An illness came to the village, and my mother went to help the sick. She caught it from them, and… I was eleven,” he swallowed hard. “Old enough that I remember very well what it was like before she died.”“I’m sorry,” I said reaching ou
The hallways immediately around the main hall were busy as servants scurried in and out with wine and platters and in the shadows, knights from the academy flirted drunkenly with maids and minor noble ladies who had managed to escape their protective families. Aien put his arm around my shoulders, draping me in the folds of his cloak, and walked with me nearest the wall. From behind, tucked tightly against Aien’s body, I would have been all but invisible.It was cosily warm within Aien’s cloak and very pleasant to feel his body move against mine. Boldly, I slid my arm around his waist, and was relieved when he did not object. In fact, he tightened his hold on me, encouraging me closer to him.I was almost entirely sure that I was not mistaken and that Aien… Well, that Aien felt about me the same as I felt about him. I felt the flush heating my skin. I had seen the knights and the maids kissing in any semi-private place they could find so many times, breathless, moaning exchanges frant
I woke into the greyness of dawn as Aien eased out of my arms, leaving a cold patch across my skin as he slid out of the bedclothes. He tucked the blankets back around me considerately seeking to shelter me from the changing temperature caused by his body withdrawing from mine.He dressed in the shirt that he had cast off and crept across the room to the door, slipping out and closing it behind him.For a moment I lay in the hollow left in his departure, trying to deny its meaning, and then it caught me in the ribs, and I curled onto my side, the heels of my hands pressed to my mouth as I pressed it back, but the feeling undeniable.Aien had left my bed before dawn. He had left before discovery was a possibility. He was hiding that he had been there at all.Very well, I told myself shaking my head and trying to cast away the burn of shame and pain. That was understandable. We were in a difficult situation. I was the second daughter of a dragon, after all, and the fifth in line for the
At the top of the stairs a central corridor was framed on either side by pretty bedrooms, each still holding elaborately carved beds, the curtains and bedding covered in a layer of dust, but otherwise untouched by time, protected from the elements by the window glass and solid roof. The chest at the end of the bed still held clothing, no more than two decades out of fashion and of rich appointment. The dressing table held hair pins, hairbrush, jewellery, and cosmetics.“What happened to these people?” I wondered.Aien shook his head.The third bedroom was a nursery, and from the scattering of wooden toys on the ground, and the half open drawers, the rumpled blanket in the cot, was evidence that the room had been in use when the house had been abandoned.“Oh,” I said softly. “That is…”Aien closed the door to the room. “They left,” he told me firmly. “The family here left the house together. Perhaps they left due to the monsters?”“There was…” I swallowed hard. “Well, a lot of things h
Rapunzel emerged from the curtained bed slowly, sliding until she sat on the end of the mattress, her elegant gown rumpled and gathered around her, showing that her feet were bare. “I am a prisoner here,” she told us with wide eyed earnestness. “And have been since the first year of my life.“This is my family home. My father was a landed gentleman with a small farm. Nothing extraordinary, but enough to support his family in comfort. However, my mother became sick, and in desperation, he sought out a renowned witch who lived within Nerith, by the name of Gerveine, who was known to have a magic potion that could cure all ills made of a rare flower.“Gerveine granted his wish, and made him a potion, but in exchange for me,” Rapunzel touched her fingertips to her hair. “As, when I was born, my fairy godmother blessed me with magical hair capable of sewing any wound closed as if it never existed. Gerveine takes a few strands every time she visits, which she sells to kings and heroes headi
“Up to?” I repeated trying for innocence. “I don’t think I know what you mean.”“Mhm. I was very flattered when your parents named you after me,” Daerton stepped over the bench and sat next to me. “And I have been nothing but proud of the young woman that I have watched grow ever since. But I must admit, never so proud as a few moments ago when you manipulated that fool of a knight into doing precisely what you wanted him to do,” he nodded around his smile. “Whilst preventing him from beating your mage to a pulp.”“I… Ah,” I felt my cheeks heat. “Aien isn’t my mage.”“Darling girl,” Daerton drawled. “As a mage myself, I recognize when another of my ilk becomes a liegeman. I remember the moment that your mother won me as her mage. We were traveling in a wagon, watching your father flying overhead, and she compared her crown to a shackle, and herself to a sacrificial lamb. I realized then that my magic was hers, that there never would be another Queen or King whom I could serve with as