Chapter 4
I lean against the outer wall of the castle and watch as the sun sets over the surrounding fields. The wind ruffles through my hair, and it's a little cold to be outside, but I don't care. I love this part of the evening. It's so peaceful, and it gives me a chance to think.
And I have a lot to think about today. I've been on a handful of missions for Lady Cassandra before, but none of them have been the dragon tower gambit, or have involved entering Drakaron.
She's always seemed a bit more particular about who goes on missions into my mother's birth kingdom, but I don't know why that is.
I've asked Vasia and Fen about it, but they don't know either.
I'm a little nervous, especially when I'll be working with Fen. It's not that I don't trust him, I do. It's just that every other time I've gone on a mission, it's with someone else around to keep an eye on us.
I sigh and rub a hand over my face, only stopping when I spot the silhouette of a dragon drifting across the sun.
I watch in awe, amazed by the way they dip through the sky, their wings stretching out and catching the light.
I have no idea if it's Fen or his mother I'm watching, but I do know it isn't his father.
He's wingless and has a slightly more serpentine body than Fen and his mother.
The dragon swoops closer, letting me see the dark red of his scales as he stretches his wings, along with the golden mane around his head.
Fen.
His father is a similar shade of red, but without the golden markings or the wings that come from his mother. I'll never admit it in Rui's hearing, but I think Fen is the more majestic dragon of the two.
He comes closer to the castle, his wings causing a gust of wind to rush against me. Despite the fact that he probably can't see me, I lift my hand and wave at him. He knows that I like to come out here in the evening, so it's possible that he knows I'm here.
On his next turn, he comes close enough that he can definitely recognise me, but I'm too in awe of the sheer size of his dragon form to think about that. His tail flicks against the roof as he passes, making a loud grating sound that I wish I could tune out.
Before I fully realise what's happening, he perches on a nearby roof, his claws scratching against the stone, and his large body radiating heat.
He's even more majestic up close. His wings fold neatly by his side, while his mane drifts slightly in the wind.
I've not seen any of the dragons from my kingdom, but from the pictures I've seen in books, their face shape is different than Fen's.
His snout is a bit wider, and he has whiskers that jut out from beside his nostrils.
He's like the perfect combination of a dragon from Huolong and one from Drakaron.
I asked him about it once, and he told me that his grandmother on his mother's side was from my kingdom, which is why he has wings when most of the dragons from Huolong, like his father, don't.
"You know you're not supposed to be up there," I call out. I'm never clear on how well he can hear me when he's in his dragon form.
A cloud of red and gold engulfs him, and Fen's human form reappears, wearing a shirt that dips far lower than it should for decency's sake.
My mouth goes a little dry as I take in the hard plains of his chest that are revealed by the shirt, but I push away the thoughts clouding my mind. I'm not supposed to think about him like this. He's my friend, and I don't want to make things difficult between us.
He jumps down from the roof, landing on the wall walk.
"You're not supposed to sit on the roof as a dragon," I remind him.
"Who's going to stop me?" he asks with an impish smile.
"I could tell Lady Cassandra."
"I'm sure she'll forgive me," he responds.
"Did you have a nice flight?" I ask.
"It was all right," he responds, looking out at the fields he's just been flying over.
"That doesn't sound very convincing."
He shrugs. "I wanted to take my mind off things."
"The upcoming mission?" I don't want to think about the fact that he might be worried about going on it with me, but that's the thought that comes to mind.
"Not even slightly. I know we'll do a good job at that."
"Good, because they've already fitted me for my dress for the masquerade."
An interested expression crosses his face. "I look forward to seeing it."
"You're not supposed to be at the masquerade to see it," I point out.
"Oh, I'm definitely going to be there," he counters. "It's a masquerade, no one is going to think anything of the handsome stranger in a mask."
I roll my eyes. "Don't draw attention to yourself."
"I can't help it if I do," he teases.
"I'm going to regret being partnered with you," I murmur.
"I hope not." The setting sun reflects off his handsome face, and it's all I can not to let my thoughts stray to my attraction towards him.
I clear my throat. "So, what did you need a distraction from?"
"Nothing," he murmurs.
I sigh. "You ran into Conrad again, didn't you?"
"It's hard not to," he responds. "Conrad is the castle's blacksmith."
I grimace. "Maybe next time you need something taking to him, I can do it for you?" I suggest.
"That's sweet, but it's fine. I've got to get used to it."
"You never told me what happened between the two of you. I thought things were going well." It's been a few months, and I assumed that Fen would talk to me about it when he's ready, but the time hasn't come.
He sighs and leans against the stone wall. "I thought we were getting serious, but it turned out that he only wanted me for my body and my position. Not for me."
"I mean, I can't really blame him on the body front."
He raises an eyebrow. "Really, Ingrid?"
"Are you going to pretend that you don't know you're attractive?"
"Of course I am." He flips his long, dark hair over his shoulder. "But I need more than that for a relationship."
"Fair enough."
He sighs. "In truth, I'm glad we got given this mission, it means I don't have to be in the training yard with him as much. It's been a few months, but I still don't feel ready to be in the same place as him."
"You don't have to be," I point out.
"Maybe not if you really do plan on going to him every time I need a weapon fixing."
"There's more than one blacksmith," I point out. "You can just make sure you go when the other is on shift."
"Mmm." He looks out over the fields, but not before I see the hurt expression on his face. I know it's nothing to do with me, but it still pains me to see him like this.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"It's fine," he says. "It's been a few months already, I'll get over it."
I offer him a weak smile, but I know that I can't really make it better.
"Are you still courting that tailor?" he asks. "You haven't talked about him recently."
"That's been over for a while, I thought you knew."
"Ah, so that's why you were at the dance with the miller's daughter last week?"
"Something like that. We spent a bit of time together, but it's not going to work. She made it clear that she wants to be married by the solstice, and I don't think I can deal with that pressure."
"Not ready to be a wife?"
"Not to a miller." I turn around and look back over the rapidly darkening fields around the tower.
"Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I can't imagine a world that's as small as the village under the castle where we grew up.
After seeing what's out there, the adventure, the life at court, everything, I just don't see how I can do something as mundane as milling flour for a living. "
"I suppose." He lets out a sigh. "I don't think I'd mind it with the right person."
"Maybe that's because you're perfectly capable of going on a midnight flight and not having to worry about anyone holding you down," I point out. "Not all of us are able to shift forms and escape reality so easily."
"You don't seem to be doing too badly, even without a dragon."
"I'm doing all right," I say. "And better than most bastard daughters do."
He grimaces. "You don't know you're a bastard."
"It seems likely," I respond. "Mother has never told me about my father. It's the same for Vasia. I don't know what they're hiding from us, but it certainly seems as if they don't want us to know something."
He runs a hand through his long dark hair. "I asked my parents about it when I was younger, but they just said that some things weren't their stories to tell."
"Cryptic. I wonder what other twenty-three-year-old secrets our parents have?"
He laughs. "Probably a lot more than we can ever know," he responds. "Something caused them to set up a home in an abandoned castle in a valley surrounded by mountains and start running rescue missions to the surrounding kingdoms."
"Mmm. I just wish I knew what."
"Maybe we'll find out one day," he responds. "But until then, we'll just do what we're supposed to. Which means doing everything we can to make sure our mission goes to plan. Maybe we should practice dancing?"
"What?" The sudden change of subject takes me off-guard.
"We're going to a masquerade," he points out. "There'll be dancing." He holds out a hand to me.
"Are you suggesting we dance on the wall with no music?"
"Why not?" There's something in his eyes that I can't ignore, and there is a part of me that wouldn't mind running through a couple of dances again before we're sent off on our mission tomorrow.
Despite my better judgment, I reach out and put my hand in his, allowing him to pull me into a hold.
He's closer than he should be, and the scent of smoke and sweat reaches my nose.
It's far from unpleasant. It's a familiar smell, one that is uniquely Fen and only makes me want to smell it more, even if I know I should ignore everything about the way being around him makes me feel, I can't.
But from tomorrow, I'm going to have to. We'll be on a mission, and I can't let anything distract us from that.