“I’ll fetch her,” Niressa murmurs before turning to me. Her eyes widen, a silent plea for my silence written there. I can tell she’s worried I’ll tell the mage too much, that I’ll expose her.
In that moment, I realize she hasn’t asked me to keep the information to myself. Not outright. She hasn’t made any demands of me when it comes to the secrets I’ve discovered since being here. I would never expose her . . . even before what happened in the bathing chamber . . . I clear my throat as my cheeks flush and Niressa makes her way toward the tunnel.
“Are you alright, child?” Ona asks, drawing my attention back to her. Smoke flows from her long white hair and I shudder, realizing she looks like more of a demon than a sorceress like this. “You look well and cozy for someone being held captive by a dragon.”
“The girl has been caring for me,” I rush out. It’s true. Ona’s eyebrow raises and I switch the subject before she can pry too deeply. “Has Father decided against trying to insult the beast?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. I really am annoyed with him for pulling such an idiotic stunt. “He could have gotten me killed.”
“He regrets trying to bribe her with a replacement,” Ona sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The men barely made it back with their lives.”
“Is Dary alright?”
The mage nods, looking at me as if she can see through me. I find myself wondering—not for the first time—if she can. I have no idea what the extent of her magic is, or how much she can truly see. If she can read minds, or emotions, influence actions—all of those are well within the scope of possibility for someone who wields magic.
“Prince Dary was unharmed—”
“Have you come to apologize for your king?” the dragon snaps as she enters the room, her large claws clicking across the stone floor as she walks toward us. Fire falls from Niressa’s nostrils as she speaks, and Ona goes rigid.
“What happened was . . . a regrettable mistake,” she answers carefully. No doubt, my father is somewhere nearby in the castle, listening to this exchange.
“Regrettable, yes,” Niressa growls as she moves closer, her tail curving around my feet at the floor. The mage’s eyes fall to the gesture and she tilts her head to face the dragon head on.
“It would pain Vanir greatly to lose our only heir, and the king would be heartbroken to lose his child after already losing his wife—”
“Which I had nothing to do with,” Niressa snaps, a throaty growl spilling behind the words.
“Perhaps,” Ona purrs as she nods her head respectfully. “But the crown will be returned to you, dragon. As soon as the snow clears, someone will bring it to you.”
“Let us hope so,” Niressa snaps.
Ona narrows her eyes then disappears in another puff of smoke. Niressa beats her wings, sending the smoke curdling out over the ledge as she walks toward it, shaking her head.
“Do you trust her?” she asks as she lays down on the edge of the stone, still in her dragon form.
My head tilts to the side as I take in how beautiful she actually is like this. Her pink and teal scales shine against the bright white of the snowstorm. Flurries fall on her, immediately melting under the heat she produces. I shake my own head as I make my way toward her, settling down against her large flank, my fingers brushing over her armored flesh.
“Ona is a sly old woman,” I laugh. “I don’t trust the mage at all. Why do you care so much for the crown, really?” My arms stretch over my head as I lean into her like a giant, scaly pillow. “And don’t lie to me this time.”
“I’ve not lied to you, Taryn,” Niressa murmurs quietly. The sincerity in her voice draws my gaze and I find her large pink eyes staring back at me over her muzzle.
“Half-truths are just as bad,” I smile sadly. “I want the truth. Why do you care so much for my mother’s crown?”
Niressa huffs out a puff of steam before pressing her large muzzle to my stomach, pushing me against her side. Her wing comes down around me like a blanket and I smile, thankful for the added warmth. “It’s not a story that paints me in the best light, princess.”
“I’d still like to hear it.”
“Alright,” she sighs, curving her neck around to lay on her claws. She glances away for a moment, as if summoning the courage to start. “My parents ruled the dragonkin, once. My mother and father were very different dragons. They fell on opposite ends of the political spectrum, too, as it were. And during a time of chaos amongst our people, they fought side by side to bring some sort of civility to these mountains.”
“Civility?”
“There was a great war, though I’m sure the humans didn’t understand what was happening. Entire clans went extinct. The fighting was reckless and wholly unnecessary. That was the one thing my parents agreed on. And somehow, that bloomed into a mating.” Niressa sighs, her eyes rolling shut for a moment. “Centuries later, they had me. We lived here in this mountain, and they ruled over the dragonkin together. Two very different halves of the same coin, as it were. The perfect balance.”
Niressa’s eyes open, her too-large, slanted pupils boring into me as she speaks. “Until the return of the golden dragons.”
“The one who came here?” I ask, leaning forward.
“Yes,” she answers, her nostrils flaring. “Him and his sister, the last of the golden dragons, or so they claimed.” She rolls her eyes and I bite my lip against a chuckle. She’s majestic like this, in this form, and yet—she’s still very much herself.
“They come from a line of dragonkin long thought to be extinct. When they came to our mountains, some dragonkin thought it to be a sign. From the Gods,” she scoffs. “They were beautiful and manipulative. They knew precisely what sort of clout their coloring brought them, and they played that well. Eventually, my parents no longer governed our kind. Instead, the golden dragons ruled the mountains.”
My heart aches for her. Displacement like that is never easy. And for a child—
“We stayed here, in our mountain, away from the politics. My mother and father hoped that one day the rest of our kind would see reason again, but they knew they couldn’t do anything as long as the dragonkin believed the golden dragons were sent by the Gods.”
“Sent by the Gods? That sounds silly,” I admitted, running my fingers through my tousled hair.
“Oh?” Niressa laughs. “Humans believe such silly lies quite often, don’t they?”
“I—” I bite my lip, realizing she’s right. Several kings have stood on the back of religion, claiming they were ordained by God in order to secure their place on the throne. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Mmm,” she purrs. “But, eventually, Aeronel’s greed became evident. They were attacking humans, isolating trade routes, causing chaos amongst the people of Lazoreat. One day, my father spoke up again. He had to, he said. He pleaded with the dragonkin to see reason, to see that this was wrong. We’d been at peace for so long—” Niressa’s voice strangles.
“I came home not long after that, after a flight one day. I found this entire cave full of scorch marks and ash. I never got to light my parents’ pyres. I never got to say goodbye. But I knew who was responsible.”