2. Dragon-Napping
DRAGON-NAPPING
Aaryn did not end up in the dungeon like she’d feared. Quite the opposite. The soft glow of oil lanterns gently painted the walls of the infirmary.
A simple white sheet covered her, even though it was entirely unnecessary.
"You have a visitor," the doctor told her, and over his shoulder, the person he spoke of came into view.
She swallowed a gasp. “Your majesty,” she greeted, and bowed her head.
Why would the prince be at her bedside?
“At ease, Aaryn,” he said, and held a hand out to her.
He knows my name?
As she lifted her head, she regarded a few other faces in the room—not only the doctor, but a set of guards, as well as the prince himself.
This doesn’t seem very at ease.
“What—may I ask, what happened?”
“It’s a bit of a long tale. How are you feeling?” he asked.
Prince Jarrick was known for his kind eyes, square jaw, and sure swordsmanship.
Aaryn was not immune to the full attention of the future monarch.
As she studied him, she noted his blond hair was pushed back, and his smile was soft, understanding.
And yet dust and sweat were visible on his neck, around his ears.
For the prince to be in such a condition, matters must be worse than they were letting on.
“I…” Under the prince’s gaze, she felt obligated to tell the truth, and dropped her attention to her hand. “My scar was what hurt so badly. I've never felt it ache so much. So vividly."
The quietness of the room seemed to swell for a moment. When she dared to bear its weight in order to glance up, the prince seemed sympathetic as ever.
The doctor interrupted the heavy silence. "I've concluded there is nothing wrong with your hand, Tethered. It's just a scar. All is well."
“Do you feel alright now?” Prince Jarrick asked.
She nodded, the pain gone from her hand, mind clear… for the most part. The clouds, however, remained, though she kept them to herself, because she didn’t quite know how to explain such a thing.
"What happened to the castle? There was an explosion?"
The memory of the fires from the top of the hill made her stomach turn.
“There were no casualties. But I do have some news.”
Aaryn swung her legs over the side of the bed, and the prince kindly made room for her. “Is Starspark alright?”
He paused, and Aaryn’s hands began to shake.
“The dragon Starspark… has not returned to his keep. He’s missing.”
Aaryn knew as much from the jittery unease in her very bones. Still, she hung her head and buried it in her hands.
Her fingertips were cold, and she pressed the pads of her fingers against her brow. “Great scales, why?”
Prince Jarrick dropped to his knee, gathering her hands in his own, and Aaryn swallowed another gasp. How dare the prince kneel before her?
“Your majesty—” she pleaded.
“Tethered Aaryn, we think Starspark was stolen.”
Aaryn could do little else with the information but blink as she stared down—down—at the prince.
“It seems the explosions were orchestrated as a distraction, so the person in question could escape on the back of Starspark.”
Tears welled in Aaryn’s eyes as disbelief swirled in her. Starspark had been taken? Why?
“By whom?” she asked, dashing her tears away. How pitiful to cry in front of the prince.
You’re Tethered. Act like it.
“Do you assume it was me? Is that why they’re here? Is that why we were heading toward the dungeons?” she asked, waving a hand at the guards. They didn't react, professionals.
The prince’s gaze softened further, and Aaryn beat back the anger sloshing within her. She did not require the gloves of a child. But he was not who she was angry with.
“I'll admit the guards acted a bit… hastily," he bit out, sending them a withering glare. "We have evidence pointing to a guard who is now missing. We assume she escaped on the back of Starspark.”
She.
The note from Thea burned hot in the folds of her skirts.
She felt very small, the room spinning around her as he continued, “We don’t know the motive behind the attack, but we do know that Thea Cyrus is responsible. And according to several employees of the crown, you two were close.”
The breath went out of her.
Thea had… stolen. Her dragon.
Was that it? Thea had given her a note, sent her away so she couldn’t interfere? So she would be helpless to watch as her dragon took to the skies with a stolen rider on his back?
Starspark had never liked Thea from the beginning. Instead of petty, endearing jealousy, like she had assumed, could it be that he knew something she hadn’t? Had he somehow sensed her motives when Aaryn could not?
The scar on her hand pulsed, and she clenched her fist.
“Does it hurt often?” Thea asked.
Aaryn glanced down to her hand, instinctively fisted to ward off the ache from her scar.
“Oh,” she breathed, and flexed her fingers free. “Sometimes I don’t even realize it.”
Thea shifted closer, the grass whispering beneath them, and she held out her hand.
Her hands were strong and lithe, veins prominent in an intricate shape. Her palms were a paler lavender, stained with callouses from the blood she’d spilled with her sword.
Yet when Aaryn lifted her hand and laid it in the one waiting, Thea’s touch was so gentle.
Her frown was severe as she studied the scar on Aaryn’s palm, dripping down her wrist.
“A brand,” she murmured, and stroked a thumb over her shiny skin. In her dark eyes there was a hint of something that made Aaryn nervous, and she couldn’t place a finger on why.
The feeling was so strong, so jarring, that she carefully removed her hand from Thea’s touch.
“It’s not—it's my connection to Starspark,” she said, and hid her hand from view by thrusting it into the basket of goodies she’d brought.
She felt embarrassed suddenly, and wondered why she'd want to hide it, because she often enjoyed the benefits it provided her: the still mind-boggling magical tether to her dragon, her status, her easy movement through the castle.
“What are you in the mood for today? Cheese? Bread? Fruit?”
Thea didn’t answer, and Aaryn glanced up to find the abyss of that gaze trained on her, dissecting, studying. Then she blinked, and the softness returned to her features. “Surprise me.”
Aaryn breathed easier, and laughed softly, an end slate clearing the awkwardness of the moment. “While my quests are trivial compared to yours, I did successfully acquire all of the above on my mission.”
“Daring,” Thea teased, and nudged her with her shoulder. “Your success rate is astonishing.”
Beneath the full tree they sat under, the sun broke through the leaves, dappling the heather-horned knight beside her. Aaryn shook herself out of her stare and arranged the bread, cheese, and fruit she’d purchased.
“A feast,” she said as she laid it out.
“Very much appreciated, Tethered Aaryn,” Thea said, and Aaryn’s cheeks flushed at the proper title. “As I’m famished.”
But her gaze was not on the ripe strawberries and fresh bread. Instead her attention was focused on Aaryn.
“You’ve been through quite an ordeal,” Jarrick said suddenly, and Aaryn jolted, coming back to herself, her surroundings, as the memory faded and the reality of her situation settled on her shoulders.
She rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, prince—your majesty! I’ve forgotten my place—”
The prince lifted a hand. “Please, Tethered, no apologies necessary. Let me escort you back to your rooms.” He paused. “Assuming you have the doctor’s clearance.”
The doctor nodded and pushed thin frames up on his nose. “Yes, of course. No lingering symptoms. I think you’ll be fine with a little rest, Tethered Aaryn.”
Jarrick clapped his hands, slightly startling her. “You heard the man. Let’s get you home, and safe,” he said, and offered her a gracious nod.
Aaryn slipped off the table and to her feet, finding her balance easily. She flushed at the prince’s bright green gaze, his kind smile. “Your majesty, I couldn’t possibly accept and distract you from your duties—”
“Nonsense,” he said, waving a hand and offering her his arm. “Besides, what falls in line with my duties more than making sure our Tethered are taken care of, hm?”
The prince—well, the prince did whatever he wanted. He was the prince.
And apparently, at this moment, that was to escort her back to her room.