Chapter 5
Chapter Five
NISSIA
The third day of the journey is much like the first one—riding with my soldiers all day, trying to make conversation with them about anything I can think of. I learn all about their lives, their families, which they’ve left behind for their month-long quest to take me to the dragons’ country.
Ragnakor does not join me at the front again. I get familiar with Syzari, though, who is King Vizarios’s head advisor. She is bored on this long journey, too.
“All I had on the way here were those two and the soldiers,” she says, casting a sidelong glance back at the King and the captain of the guard. She rolls her eyes. “The king is sullen all the time, and the captain hardly speaks. It gets tedious.”
I have to agree with her.
After a few hours, I decide I like Syzari.
She has a long, rounded snout, delicate, short horns on her head, and blue scales that remind me of a clear, sunny sky.
She is dressed in pants for riding, too, but her top is ornate and draped over her in a way that’s surprisingly beautiful for traveling clothes.
“Vizarios wasn’t this way before,” Syzari says after a time.
“Oh?” I think this is exactly the kind of information I need. “What happened?”
She closes her reptilian eyes, lets out a long breath, and then says, “The queen, his mother, died recently. Vizarios’s father passed when he was still too young to remember him, but his mother... that was a deep, deep cut. He hasn’t been the same since.”
I chance a look over my shoulder, toward the back of the group where King Vizarios rides. His green-blue scales shine in the midday sun, making him look like a living jewel.
“Huh.” Maybe that’s why he’s such a grouchy pain in the ass. “Were they close?”
“Very close. She taught him everything she knew. The queen was...” Syzari’s voice chokes up. “She was an amazing dragon. She had seen so much in her life, and she was generous and kind.”
I have a hard time imagining someone like that raised Vizarios. But Syzari looks shaken after admitting this, and it’s clear the former queen’s death has taken an emotional toll on her as well.
“That’s good to know,” I say after a moment, letting Syzari compose herself again. “Maybe the king and I have more in common than I thought.”
“Hmm?” She leans forward on her horse. “How do you mean?”
“Well, my mother died just a few years ago. There was a flu. It killed many people in the kingdom, including her.”
I clasp my reins tighter, remembering the day I saw her body after she had died during the night. They let us say goodbye to her, and that was the last time I ever looked upon her face.
“Maybe that is a path inward,” Syzari says in a lower voice. “It is a tender subject for him, but it could spark a tender relationship.”
Again I glance back, and this time, I find King Vizarios’s eyes are on me, his brows drawn together tight and his lips twisted into a frown.
I quickly look forward again. It’s probably better than hating each other, given what we’re going to have to do together when we reach Selvumrrest, what the dragons are going to require of me. We’ll have to get to know each other much more intimately, and we’ve barely shared a word.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself more,” I say.
Syzari nods sadly. “Fair enough. I will do my best to put in a good word for you. I think you will make a marvelous queen.”
I hope that’s true, though the path there is frightening and fraught.
VIZARIOS
Ragnakor and I hardly spoke today. He tried a little, but it was a half-hearted attempt, and we spent most of the ride in silence.
Now I see Syzari riding ahead with the princess, locked deep in conversation with her. What is it about this human that my compatriots find so interesting? She is nothing. Less than nothing.
I snort to myself and return to gazing out at the countryside. Soon I’ll be ready to claw out my skull. It was long and dreary enough coming here, and now we have to do it all over again going home.
What a worthless expedition.
That night, I eat my dinner in my tent. I hear the princess’s high, sharp laugh out by the campfire, and my heart grows harder and meaner. But dutifully, Ragnakor remains out front, even eating his own meal there.
The following day passes much the same, as does the day after. Sometimes I mingle at meals, but mostly I keep to myself. I am the king, after all, and I shouldn’t be sitting and eating among my guards, anyway.
But the princess has not, apparently, received this missive, because she spends every evening in the company of her lessers.
She eats with them, talks with them, even laughs with them.
How does she have so much energy? She is younger than I am by a few years, but there’s a spirit about her I can’t seem to put my finger on.
It irritates me how she seems to draw others to her with no effort, and they come like moths to a flame.
Something about it reminds me of my mother, how she could earn anyone’s loyalty.
She seemed to understand what it was each of her citizens wanted and knew how to use it.
I’ve been thinking all this time about how unsuited the princess is for me, but perhaps as a ruler, she won’t be so incompetent. I suppose that is the least I could ask for, someone who can be an effective and useful queen.
That should make me feel better about what lies ahead, but it only makes the aching worse. She will never be what I want. She can’t be, no matter her abilities or personality.
I dismiss Ragnakor early that night so he can return to more interesting pursuits. Truthfully, I simply don’t want him so near me, where I cannot reach out and touch him. I don’t need that kind of temptation or that kind of pain.
RAGNAKOR
We are more than halfway through our journey now, but little has improved.
Despite everything, though, Princess Nissia puts on a brave face.
Sometimes she disappears in the evening and usually returns with some kind of pheasant or rabbit in her grip.
She’s adept at peeling off feathers and skinning carcasses on her own, which is not what I expected of a princess.
Keeping a distance between us, though, feels like kicking a dog.
She doesn’t attempt to strike up conversation again, though occasionally I notice her watching me, her expression puzzled.
So one night, after Vizarios has dismissed me, I sit beside her at the fire.
I know Vizarios would be furious, but I don’t think he will emerge for the rest of the night.
“Captain,” she greets me cheerfully, though her posture is a tad defensive.
“How is your pheasant this evening?” I ask, indicating to her plate of meat.
“Fine. Better than jerky.”
I nod in agreement. “It grows tiresome.”
“Much like this journey.”
I wish I could assure her it will get better with time, but not even I believe that. It is a wound that Vizarios may never let heal.
“Here,” I say, gesturing to her plate. “Unseasoned meat must be unpleasant. Let me see it.”
She passes the plate to me. I reach into my bag for the seasoning pouch and pull out a pinch.
“It’s better if you use this before cooking, but it will suffice for now, too.” I sprinkle red and yellow spices over the meat on the plate and pass it back to her. “Your first introduction to dragon food.”
She arches an eyebrow, then pokes a piece of her meal with her fork and puts it in her mouth. After some thoughtful chewing, a smile spreads across her face.
“It’s good! Spicy. Thank you.”
I’m glad I can provide this one thing for her, as much as I wish I could do more.
Soon the plains of the human lands give way to foothills, and the mountains of our homeland grow ever closer, dwarfing us in their shadow.
As we begin our ascent, unfortunately I must tell the princess she can no longer go hunting by herself.
This high up, there are too many predators around—much more deadly than those down in her own land.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “But you will be the queen, and I must make sure you reach Selvumrrest safely. I would hate for you to encounter a grizzly bear alone.”
“Oh.” The smile she’d had on her face when I approached her falls. “All right.”
“You can hunt with your new guard,” I try to assure her. “In fact, you can have a whole hunting party of your own, should you choose.”
She forces a smile and nods, but clearly it is not the same.
That night, Nissia is much quieter around the fire, picking at her dinner of dried meat without speaking. This new restriction might not have broken her, but it has wounded her. Her independence is clearly of some importance to her well-being. I wish I could give it to her.
Mentally I’ve been looking through my roster of guards, trying to decide who would be best to watch over the future queen.
Whoever I choose, we will be in each other’s way quite often now that my previous plan to watch over both royals myself has been changed.
I need someone experienced in defending a single target, who can protect her against whatever might come her way as the new queen.
I do not believe she will have many enemies, but one never knows.
I chew my food roughly, rending the flesh with my teeth.
The only dragon that I trust to work alongside me is Quillion, who I left behind in Selvumrrest to lead the royal guard in my absence.
Though he is needed elsewhere, he will be best suited to the job of overseeing the queen.
He guarded the last king, before my time, and I believe his mature presence will help Princess Nissia settle in.
At least that’s one less unknown.
And then, at long last, we awaken in the dawn to find we’re nearing the foot of the city.
That morning, as tents are folded up and stowed and early meals are consumed, I find Princess Nissia standing alone, gazing up the mountainside.
She balls her hands into fists, then turns away to mount her horse, her expression tight.
I wish I could take up position beside her, assure her that her future among dragonkind will not be as unpleasant as she surely imagines, but I can’t predict anything.
It is time to present her to our people and execute the marriage ceremony. I hope that both Vizarios and Nissia are prepared for what’s to come.