Chapter 10
Harper
Arthur and I head down the stairs, looking forward to finally hanging out in my room and catching up a bit more.
I want to know all about Pennyvale. I want to know if the baker finally figured out who was stealing his pies.
I was to know if the Harrison twins were both proposed to by their boyfriends, or if it was only one of them, crushing their plans to marry in a joint ceremony.
Basically, I miss my small town and want to hear all the good gossip.
A servant nearly runs into me when I reach the bottom of the stairs.
“My lady,” she greets me, curtseying. “You’re wanted in the training yard.”
Uh oh.
She scurries off, and I turn to Arthur. His brows rise. “What does this mean?”
“Trouble, probably,” I tell him grumpily.
He follows me to the practice yard, and I try to take a deep breath and relax. Maybe this doesn’t mean trouble. Maybe everything is going to be just fine. But as much as I tell myself comforting things, I don’t believe a word of it. Everywhere I go I seem to cause problems.
When I reach the training yard, to my surprise, the king is there, along with his advisor and the three princes.
The king has a bright smile on his face, and he looks handsome in his kingly robes.
Despite the slight bulge of his stomach and the gray at his temples, the king remains the handsome man who has stolen the hearts of far too many ladies. I can see him in his sons.
Beside him, standing at complete odds with him, is his advisor, who is dressed in his long blue robes.
Everything about the man is long. His ears.
His face. It stretches down, reminding me just a bit of a horse’s face.
And while his robes are fine and expensive-looking, there’s something unkept about his wild white hair and his bushy mustache and thin beard.
When he looks at me, there’s nothing friendly or welcoming in his gaze.
If anything, I get the sense that he doesn’t like me very much.
“Harper!” the king greets warmly.
I smile and do my best to curtsy in front of him, even though it feels awkward. Beside me, Arthur bows, but the king only gives a nod of acknowledgement in his direction. It seems to me he has something to talk to me about, and whatever it is, he’s excited about it.
“Your Highness,” I say as I come closer.
“I wondered if you could do me the honor of introducing me to Ebron this fine afternoon,” the king asks. He really doesn’t have to ask… He’s the king. But I like that he pretends I have a say in the matter.
“I can ask him.”
“Ask him?” the king repeats, looking at his sons in confusion.
Prince Lucien flashes an unkind smile. “She doesn’t order her dragon to do anything. She asks him to do things. Like they’re partners.”
“Partners?” The king sounds baffled.
“I guess it’s just what happens when you take a peasant, with absolutely no training and no understanding of how to be a dragon rider, and give her a massive male dragon,” Prince Lucien mutters coldly.
“Interesting,” the king says, before turning back to me, a flicker of concern in his dark eyes. “Well, Harper, do you think you can… ask him to come talk to us?”
“I can,” I say, fighting down my annoyance. I can’t exactly argue with Prince Lucien in front of the king, and he damn well knows it.
Despite my irritation, I send my thoughts out. Ebron, the king wants to meet you. Do you want to come to the practice yard?
His response comes quickly. I can, if you would like me to.
I consider my next words carefully. The king is very important. He rules the dragon riders and the academy. We want to make a good impression on him.
A human. Important. He sounds amused, like he can’t believe any human is important, which can’t be good.
“He’s coming,” I tell the others, feeling nervous.
I shall be impressive and respectful, he tells me, but it doesn’t ease my worry.
Maybe I should’ve clarified with Ebron how to properly impress a king.
Ebron is amazing, but he doesn’t get the little things when it comes to humans.
I think to us we’re pretty much unimportant to him unless we impact his life in any way.
Still, I’m just going to cross my fingers and hope he knows what he’s doing.
“And how has your experience at Stormwrath Academy been so far?” the king asks me.
I glance at his sons. None of them look the least bit embarrassed by their behavior. Okay, maybe Prince Alaric avoids my gaze a bit, but it’s not enough. I don’t think they’d even care if I told their father what they’ve been up to.
“It’s been very… educational,” I say.
His smile brightens. “I’m glad. Stormwrath Academy has taught every dragon rider for as long as the records have existed. This is the place to excel. To become a defender of the realm. To have your name written in history books.”
It’s strange, he makes this place sound almost romantic. But what I’ve seen from the academy so far is a place that hardens men until they’re not even people any longer, just soldiers in a war they never began nor chose.
“Perhaps Harper will be ready for Gore Rock before much longer,” Elder Thorne says evenly, the advisor studying me in a way I don’t like.
The king looks doubtful. “Perhaps, but I’m not sure such a violent location is the best place for our lone female rider.”
I straighten my spine. “I just want you to know, I’m here to fight. I know that’s what being a rider is all about. If it comes to that.” If the peace treaty doesn’t work out.
Arthur gives me a shocked look but manages to cover it up quickly.
Everyone knows the stories surrounding Gore Rock.
It’s the one stop, the lone island, between the Dravari and the Hollowborns.
Even flying on bone wyrms instead of dragons, they need to stop at that island to make it to our continent, so it’s been the location of many, many battles over the course of hundreds of years.
It’s our first, and most important, defense against the Hollowborn.
But as vital a part Gore Rock is to being a dragon rider, I suspect Arthur doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want me there.
“Maybe–” Arthur begins softly.
Suddenly a dark shape flies into view. We all turn as Ebron comes closer and closer, then lands.
But he doesn’t just land, he continues flapping his wings, back legs on the ground, front legs in the air, and roars, followed by a burst of flames from his muzzle.
A hush falls over our group, and the scattering of dragon riders around the training grounds.
My jaw drops. What the hell is he doing?
Oh, right, making a good first impression on the king.
Ebron finally lands fully and stops flying, but his head is held high. His dark scales shimmer in the golden afternoon light, and he looks every bit the regal lone male dragon of legend. One of a kind. More powerful than any other living dragon.
“This is Ebron,” I tell the king, chest swelling with pride.
King Stormvale begins to circle Ebron. “Marvelous. Absolutely marvelous.”
He likes you.
He should.
“He’s massive,” the king says, almost in a hushed tone. “Even my dragon seems small in comparison to him.”
“He’s a male,” I say, even though everyone already knows it. “I think he’s about four times the size of the female dragons.”
“That must be rough on the females,” the advisor says quietly.
I shake my head. “Male dragons are incredibly gentle with their females. They hold them in high regard, treating them carefully, knowing how much larger they are. Male dragons are far kinder than human men are.”
I hadn’t meant to say the last part to a group of men, but it just kind of tumbled out. The three princes are watching me, complicated emotions racing across their faces, but again, I get the feeling that the advisor is judging me. Weighing me against something and finding me lacking.
“How did you come to learn about the interactions between male and female dragons?” the king asks, sounding truly curious.
“Ebron and I spoke about it. We were discussing our different courting experiences.”
The king reaches out as if to touch Ebron’s scales, but pulls back, as if deciding against it.
“I wonder if your strange connection with Ebron is because he’s a male dragon or because you’re a female rider.
I can’t imagine male dragons are biologically inclined to bond with their riders, but the softness of a female rider might bring out the instinct in them. ”
I can’t help myself. I ask, “I don’t think our relationship has anything to do with me being a woman. It seems to me it has more to do with the difference in how I treat Ebron versus how the men treat their dragons. I mean, do any of the other dragon riders even try to connect with their dragons?”
“Our dragons are a tool to use in war–” Prince Lucien begins.
Ebron snorts, a little puff of smoke leaving his nostrils.
Female dragons are no one’s tools. They fight the bone wyrm because the bone wrym are their enemies.
The bone wyrm kill their young and make our world more dangerous.
They work with dragon riders because dragon riders know the ways of the Hollowborn and find our enemies more easily.
The dragon riders are the tools, not the females.
I laugh.
Everyone looks at me.
“What did he say?” Prince Gareth asks, lifting a brow.
I wish Ebron had just said his words for everyone to hear, but I already know that it’s rare for dragons to speak to humans other than their riders. They see communication as a personal and private thing, if the books I’ve read are correct.
“He called you guys tools,” I say.
They glance at my dragon, who looks completely unashamed of his words. Not that I blame him. Ebron says what he means and means what he says, and he’s not afraid of anyone knowing it.
“I would like to speak to Ebron,” King Stormvale says, staring up at my dragon.
“Okay,” I say, unsure of where this is going.
He raises his voice. “Have you chosen mates yet?”