Chapter 4
Chapter four
There was one place for Valeraine to go where she felt truly at home and at peace, away from the twittering gossip of Selaide and the schemes of their mother. Her favorite place in all of Longbourn estate: the dragon nest.
The nest was a large, barn structure a few minutes’ walk from their manor house. Once, optimistic builders constructed stalls for six dragons. To her knowledge, Longbourn nest had three at its peak. Now, with their single dragon, it was much larger than they needed.
The room was appreciated by Lelantos, who could stretch his gargantuan wings across the expanse. Walls that had once separated three dragon-sized-stalls had been torn down decades ago, so Lelantos had triple the room he might have been allotted, if Longbourn house had been prosperous.
Valeraine dressed in practical clothes for working with a dragon: a thick blouse and divided skirts.
The skirts were a dark brown, to hide stains and wear, but Valeraine liked to think it matched her hair well enough to be a little fashionable (though Selaide would disagree).
She entered the nest building through the person-sized door in the side, and could only smile at the sight that awaited her: Lelantos, curled up in his stall.
He was as long as six carriages from nose to tail, with a wingspan much longer.
Dragons’ wings never stopped growing; Lelantos’ wings were magnificent.
Though his wingspan didn’t rival the tall tales and myths of the greatest dragons, it was longer than any credible account Valeraine had found.
The predictions that he would succumb to his age soon were not without basis, and were most often said after someone had seen him stretch out his wings.
Lelantos held his age in other places, too.
His deep green scales had probably once been shiny, but now they were a dull matte.
The claws that tipped his four legs were yellowed, and would snap if they were allowed to get too long.
His dainty ear flaps were wrinkled, marking the places where he often creased them to show his displeasure, as they were positioned now.
The source of Lelantos’ ire was immediately apparent: Kesley was standing stiffly by the opposite wall of the nest, bristling with his own frustration.
His brunette hair was slightly mussed and coming out of its braid, matching the stubble he cultivated.
For formal occasions, Kesley shaved to show off his cocky jaw.
But Valeraine preferred this raw, rough image of him.
She knew that the image was crafted by Kesley, as he always put effort into his clothes (today, he wore a pale blue vest that perfectly contrasted with his light brown skin and dark trousers), but she admired the effect all the same.
This was her Kesley: daringly tousled, color-coordinated, proud of his work, and wanting everyone to know it.
Kesley was of an age with Valeraine, a fact that had helped them bond in the three years he had lived at Longbourn.
He was from Sidton house, which had three dragons and a superfluous six sons.
The Longbourn family, with no sons, had taken him on as almost an indentured servant, but of a much loftier position.
Though Papa technically held the title of the Master of Longbourn nest, Kesley fulfilled much of the duties.
He cared for Lelantos, and made sure the dragon was flown out to the tenant farmers to labor in their fields.
There were servants to do the most onerous tasks, such as shoveling out the dragon guano.
But the great responsibility of wrangling Lelantos was on Kesley’s shoulders.
It was a responsibility that Valeraine often assisted with, because Lelantos could not be persuaded to be civil to Kesley.
The time Valeraine and Kesley spent together in the nest was barely considered proper, as they were busy with an important job and there were often servants present.
It was one of the small benefits of being an insignificant house: their behavior was only worth gossiping about if it crossed the line of propriety.
So long as they only toed the line, society continued to ignore them.
Valeraine leaned on the wall next to him. “What has he done this time?” she teased. There was always some new prank underway.
“When I tried to put the saddle on him, he burned my shoes.” Kesley admitted, still glaring at Lelantos.
Valeraine laughed, and looked incredulously at the dragon. “Just your shoes? What splendid aim.”
Kesley sighed, relinquishing his glare for the chance to look fondly at Valeraine. “He is much too clever to aim at anything else. He knows what discipline would await him if he tried to flame my hands, or the nest’s walls.”
“Naturally. But he can burn your shoes.”
“He only singed them!” Kesley defended. He angled one of his shoes toward Valeraine. The edge of the leather top was slightly darkened. Here, Kesley gave Lelantos an accusatory pout. “He knows exactly how far he can push. If he had ruined these shoes, I would have been much more cross.”
“He’s the smartest dragon in Kinella,” Valeraine said proudly. She went to Lelantos, unworried about her own shoes being burned. Kesley and Lelantos had their little rivalry, but the dragon was never anything but sweet to her. Even in this terrible mood, he wouldn’t act against her.
Valeraine put her hand up to Lelantos’ snout, and the dragon leaned into it. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, guiding Valeraine’s hand to his favorite spot for scratches. She obliged, giving the scales on the side of his jaw a massage.
Kesley got to work, secure in the knowledge that Valeraine was keeping the dragon distracted. Lelantos wouldn’t spit fire with Valeraine giving him love and attention. Kesley was outfitting the dragon with the larger saddle — the one with two seats.
Valeraine flashed him a smile in acknowledgement. He always knew how to cheer her up. A flight together would be the perfect opportunity to unload all her complaints.
The act of saddling a dragon was not an easy one, as the dragons were tall enough that you couldn’t simply throw the saddle on its back.
The nest building had a system of pulleys and hammocks to solve this problem.
Kesley clipped the saddle into the mechanism and lowered it right behind Lelantos’ neck.
It was skillfully done, an act of long practice and familiarity.
The saddle lightly kissed onto the dragon’s back with a whisper, as soft as a cloud.
It still wasn’t enough to evade the dragon’s notice. The second the saddle touched down, Lelantos’ eyes snapped open and his ears stuck out from his head. He swiveled his neck to survey this unwelcome addition on his back, breaking contact with Valeraine’s hand.
Valeraine reached out, patting his neck in soothing circles. “Come on now, don’t you want to take a flight? You can’t stay cooped up in the nest all day, can you?” She strolled to his front legs, sliding her hand down his neck.
Lelantos surrendered to her intentions, as he usually did, and knelt his front legs as she gently tugged his neck down. As much as he might grump to Kesley, he didn’t want to miss a flight. Particularly one led by Valeraine.
If Longbourn had plenty of sons, Valeraine would not have ridden Lelantos so often.
Women rode dragons sometimes, for transportation and for pleasure, but they were not meant to be the primary minders of the adult dragons.
No, a woman’s touch was needed in hatch-mothering the babies, with that most important of stages.
Valeraine had never even gotten to touch an egg, and had only met a hatchling once.
All she had was Lelantos, the opposite of the demographic that she was meant to work with.
Valeraine and Kesley, working in a tandem long-practiced, secured the saddle’s straps around the dragon’s belly. The bands had rungs — toe and hand holds — that made it simple to climb up the side of the dragon.
Valeraine sat herself in the forward seat of the saddle, her hands comfortably taking up the reins.
The reins were looped around Lelantos’ front legs.
The dragon needed barely a twitch of signal from her to begin moving toward the nest’s large doors.
Kesley slid the doors open with great creaking noises.
Once Kesley had clambered up the dragon and sat behind Valeraine, she urged Lelantos out of the nest.
The takeoff started with Lelantos snapping out his wings. The leathery expanse of them, stretched between fine bones, reached further than the nest wall itself. Then, flapping with increasing intensity, he took to the sky.
This was what it meant to come from a dragon house: to fly.
This was who Valeraine was. She was born from those mothers who had tamed Lelantos, those fathers who had harnessed him for flight and trained him to make their fields profitable.
She couldn’t let Longbourn lose this. Without a dragon, they would become but a footnote in history, a house whose sons had once flown.
They were already dismissed as a dying house.
In the next decade, Longbourn might not even have the smallest claim to being a dragon house.
Mamma might have given up on rebuilding their house, but Valeraine had not.
She looked toward the horizon, a view she had seen hundreds of times.
Lelantos had taken a regular course, cruising in the sky over the Longbourn lands.
It was breathtaking, even in its routine familiarity.
She would give this magnificent view to the descendants of Longbourn.
Valeraine leaned back, resting on Kesley’s solid chest. “Have you heard of our new neighbor?” she asked him.
“No.” Catching her dour tone, Kesley said, “If he has insulted you, I will challenge him to a duel.”
Valeraine wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but it made her laugh anyway.
She could always count on Kesley to take her side.
He might not get along with Lelantos, but Kesley appreciated the dragon all the same.
It was something they shared: a deep respect for the grand beast. Kesley understood how she yearned for the house to be more than it was now.
“Mamma has upset me, and you should indeed challenge her to a duel,” Valeraine said.
Then, she unfolded the news to him: there would be a new dragon nest established, not five miles from the Longbourn estate.
“All Mamma and Selaide see are more balls to attend, more dragoneers to woo. And yet, if we play our cards right, this is a chance to get a dragon egg.”
“And so you wish Mrs. Longbourn would seize the business opportunity, instead of trying to give away her daughters,” Kesley summarized.
“Precisely. Longbourn need not seduce our neighbor to provide for itself. We will not be on the fringes of society, with the new nest next door. Industry and prestige are coming to the neighborhood. We will rise with the tide. I can feel it.”
“If anyone can sucker the dragoneers out of an egg, it will be you, dear Val.”
Valeraine preened at the compliment. She said, “You must assist me. Mamma is inviting our new neighbors over, and we must present as competent dragoneers. Marriage may secure my and my sisters’ income, but it does nothing for Longbourn.
We must plan for the future generations, not selfishly run away from a sinking house. ”
“How can I assist you, when you will have everything in hand? Perhaps I shall play the jealous suitor, to frighten Mr. Nethenabbi away from your beautiful countenance.”
Valeraine laughed, and teased, “You know that would only encourage him, with the challenge of your own romantic prowess.” She thrilled at this flirting, at teasing each other.
For the first few years, they had worked alongside each other as friends, allies.
Recently, though, something more had been blooming between them.
Papa had made some circumspect comments on how well-matched Valeraine and Kesley were.
Kesley had stopped chasing after other girls, and instead spent more time with her.
Valeraine dared to hope for a future where she would have everything she wanted: a flourishing house, an egg to care for, a husband who was as delightful to work with as Kesley.
First, she must make a deal with their neighbors.