61. Found Family
~ GRACE ~
I’d visited inns when we traveled as a family. But I’d never been inside a tavern before.
It was fascinating.
My squad brothers insisted that we go, since they were all given the day off patrol to attend my assessment, and this was how the squad celebrated.
I was thrilled, though exhausted. My brothers insisted I be given only a few, hurried moments to bathe and change.
Yet, I was still shaking. By the time we’d walked all the way to the city my knees felt unstable.
Bren stuck to my side, laughing and joking with the men—who kept us circled as we walked the road, then entered the city and braved the streets.
Our brothers insisted that there were gangs of criminals causing issues in the streets.
They warned us not to leave the tavern alone, and debated about which we should visit.
The final call was made to patronize an establishment called The Gilded Fang. Which sounded very interesting.
I’d always imagined these places as dens of iniquity—dark corners that men frequented to find women and drink.
So, I was surprised when we passed under a brightly painted shingle depicting a dragon coiled in flight, to enter a simple, but warm, cheerfully lit room with a large fire at one end, a bar at the other, and several massive, wooden tables, with benches long enough to sit six per side, and a stool or chair at each end.
The glossy wooden rafters and stone hearth made the place something my mother would have described as rustic. Yet, I found it inviting.
Since it wasn’t yet the dinner hour, there were only a few of the smaller tables with patrons already seated.
We took an entire long table in the center.
I was thrilled when someone plonked a handle of ale down in front of me. I took a deep sip—only to cough and almost spit it back out.
Thick and aromatic in ways that weren’t pleasant, it was so hard to swallow. I choked for a time and ended up wiping tears from my cheeks, as Bren laughed and my brothers teased.
“Someone buy her a wine!”
“Nah—she has to finish the pint first. Grow the hair on her chest.”
“You should grow your own, before worrying about hers, Harle.”
“Shut up, Voski.”
I giggled, but held the handle of the large mug in one hand, and cupped my other to its slick side, praying if I held it in front of me, they wouldn’t notice if I didn’t drink it.
As the first hour passed, I sipped slowly at the cup—it became slightly less abhorrent with each mouthful—but mostly listened to them banter and tell stories.
When Gil and Jhoare raised their voices, trying to shout each other down about a memory of Bren and Akhane’s flying roll during her assessment, and the others laughed, something in my chest turned warm and ached beautifully.
There was something very special about being there with them all just together.
I prayed the day would come when I felt as easy in their presence as Bren did, and could claim my place.
Because watching them made it clear, they didn’t call each other brother as a title, or for status. But because they were truly a family.
I’d been in so many rooms, and navigated so many crowds throughout my life. Yet, the men and women in the court were a stark contrast to this camaraderie.
I’d once envied other nobles for their acceptance among our peers. Yet, I’d never seen warmth and solidarity like this. Friends in the noble classes always seemed to speak with one hand on their daggers—metaphorically. The women competed for the men, and the men competed with each other.
But here? While these men—my brothers?—fought to be the funniest, or the cleverest, or the strongest, it was all in good-natured, competitive spirit.
The sense among them was that they were a unit.
Held together by a common thread—the dragons.
And while they might needle each other, the moment someone else approached, they closed ranks and stood shoulder to shoulder in protection of each other.
I’d always prayed to find that kind of friendship.
A woman I could trust with even my darkest fears without having them used against me.
As the shadows deepened on the street outside and my body grew looser, my limbs becoming heavy, I glanced to my right, at Bren.
I hoped we’d find this kind of friendship.
For the first time in my life, it seemed possible. Yet, she was already one of them. A Furyknight.
Would I ever attain that? I prayed for that, even more fervently than to find a friend.
Still, it was a delight to have even the opportunity to become one of them.
Watching them, laughing, I forgot myself and took another long draw on the ale. And even though my eyes watered a little bit, it wasn’t nearly as offensive the second time. So, I took another, more careful sip.
I didn’t talk much, but I giggled with abandon—the men were much louder, so would cover any unladylike snorts or splutters.
The fun was only interrupted by the occasional patrol from a royal guard, or another Furyknight on shift. The bell on the door would jingle, and we’d all turn to see a large man with serious eyes, step inside, scan the room. Sometimes they’d speak quietly with the tavern owner before leaving again.
The moment the door closed, voices in the room rose to bubble around the rafters again, and laughter rang out once more. It felt warm, and comfortable, and special.
This is my world, I thought to myself as I scanned the table, taking in each smiling, reddened face, and burning it into my memory.
It seemed impossible. A lie. And yet, these men called themselves my brothers, and Bren my sister.
There was a dragon back in the Keep awaiting my return.
I was cleared to fly. Tomorrow, when they all went out on patrol, I would be allowed to harness, and fly Koa all by myself.
And if anyone from the city caught sight of me, they’d assume I was already a Furyknight.
I shook my head in disbelief and took another sip of the heavy, pungent ale.
This impossible world that they inhabited had just embraced me.
I never wanted this day to end.
“Tell them what you told me about Koa—when she named him!” Bren said, her eyes sparkling as she leaned into my side.
It took me a moment, then I remembered, and pressed a hand over my mouth to laugh. “But, the word is…”
“Just tell them.” She nudged me, giggling.
I cleared my throat and turned to look around the table. My brothers circled us, elbows on the tabletop, all grinning or staring, waiting for the story.
They’d asked me to tell them everything that happened in the air today, and while their interest was gratifying, I’d made the mistake of telling Bren about Koa’s name for Kennik. Now, they all wanted to hear.
My smile faltered when I ran into Voski’s gaze. He’d taken the seat directly across from me. He didn’t talk as much as the others—except to make a joke at Gil’s expense, or to tease Harle—but his eyes glittered with keen interest, and they locked with mine now.
The roof of my mouth was suddenly very dry. It took two swallows of ale to wet it.
“Um, well, it’s hard with Koa sometimes. She doesn’t have a full grasp of language. She often speaks to me in pictures, instead of words, and I don’t always know what she means. But, well, she’s trying.”
I glanced at Bren, and she nodded to urge me on, beaming.
“Um, when it was obvious that Kennik wasn’t remembering the formations, I wanted to communicate with him.
He was my pivot, and we needed to coordinate.
I couldn’t move until he did. I asked Koa if she could reach him through his dragon.
I asked his name. And she told me… she told me, his name is Kennik, the…
the…” My cheeks heated and I buried my face in my ale again.
“I had forgotten about the dragon names. I thought, when she said it, I thought—well, I thought she called him a rude name. And it wasn’t until she showed me the image that I realized she meant his dragon name,” I ended lamely, taking another too-big swallow of the ale, because I was embarrassed.
Voski frowned, and the others leaned in.
“Wait, what?”
“What did she say?”
“Is it bad?”
Bren nudged me, but I shook my head. “I can’t say that word!” I whispered to her, though I think I may have been a touch too loud, because Voski smirked.
I hardly ever saw him smile. It pressed lines into his cheeks.
He was very handsome.
I took another sip, and almost choked when Bren crowed, “She told Grace he was Kennik the cock!”
“And they say the dragons don’t understand human nuance,” Voski drawled.
The brothers exploded, slapping the table.
“Maybe he’ll be renamed, the ass after this!”
I spluttered, choking on my ale as they threw insults back and forth, each attempting to out-do the other with a barb for a man who wasn’t even here to defend himself. I knew I shouldn’t find it funny. But I couldn’t stop giggling.
And every time I turned to look at the next brother, calling out his jab, I felt the gaze on my skin, like the metal poker that was used on the fire. Blazing. Pointed. Hot.
The conversation devolved into pure, hilarious roasting. I caught Voski watching me laugh and had to sit up straight and close my mouth several times, because those midnight eyes of his were dark and avid and clawed on my skin.
My heart began to flutter, then pound. But no one seemed to notice except me.
And then someone placed a fresh mug of ale in front of me and I frowned. “I didn’t ask for that. I still have—”
I cut myself off as I realized the other mug was empty. In fact, there were two or three empty pints in front of me. Several clustered on the table. The serving girls collected them, bantering with our brothers as they did so. And the men enjoyed teasing them as well.
When one of the women leaned over my shoulder to grasp the handles of the two mugs in front of me, her chest was quite plump, and right under my nose. And I felt that gaze again.
It was instinct to look, to snap eyes to meet his—expecting to see him salivating over that plump chest next to my jaw.
But Voski’s eyes were locked on mine.
I froze.
When she stood up, the air moved, and tendrils of my hair tickled my neck. Like soft touches at my nape.
My skin prickled, and my already warm cheeks heated further. Why? I didn’t want to look at the woman’s breasts.
But there was suddenly a coil of heat twisting in my belly, and even though Harle called out from the other end of the table, which gave me an excuse to break the gaze, I could feel Voski’s continued stare.
I was about to take another sip from the fresh ale, but I caught myself.
No. I needed to take more care. Much more care. I didn’t want to get drunk!
“Excuse me!” I said, pushing to my feet. My chair scraped on the slate floor, but it was very noisy in the room and no one seemed to mind. “I need to find the powder room,” I said, so they wouldn’t know why I needed to leave.
“You’ll have more luck asking for a privy!” Ronen called from the other end of the table, chuckling.
He didn’t have a drink in front of him, so I thought he probably meant what he said. “Thank you!”
I turned to pass behind Bren and weave between tables, and almost lost my footing. Bren caught my hand when I grabbed for her, and we both giggled. It was very funny.
I found my composure, and walked calmly to the bar—though it was slightly alarming the way the room’s floor was tilted—to ask a bar maid where I might use the facilities. She directed me out into the hallway, and a drafty porch behind the stairs.
The loud voices and heated air faded behind me, and I breathed deeply. Thanking God for such an amazing day, followed by a fun night. It was wonderful.
But, I couldn’t let my fancies walk away with me.
Voski had been looking at me because I was seated across the table from him, and was naturally in his line of sight.
He didn’t smile. He hadn’t flirted—which was a relief.
I wasn’t good at flirting, but I recognized it when I saw it.
Gil and Jhoare did it often, and didn’t mean it in the slightest, which was quite funny.
After a few moments, I found my composure, brushed off my leathers, and admired them for a moment. I indulged in a short moment to dream of the day I would wear a brass, enamel pin on the lapel. Then I took one more deep breath and nodded to myself.
I wouldn’t drink more ale. It might make me say something silly. And I wanted this night to be as fun and joyful as this day had turned out to be.
I entered the tavern with my chin high—and hadn’t even left the shadows of the hallway when I deflated at the sight of Voski, in the main doorway, waving his farewell to the others.
Our eyes caught for a moment, and I didn’t control my features as I should have. I felt my face fall, and tried to catch it, to replace the sudden melancholy with a smile. But I was too late.
Voski’s lips thinned. Thank God the others hadn’t seen me yet. The hope and delight I’d been enjoying drained through my body and out of my toes in a blink at the darkness in that gaze.
Without a word or gesture, Voski turned and pushed out the door and into the night.
And, as that hollow in my chest began to ache, something inside me sparked to fire.