Page 67 of The Flame King's Queen

Another dragonrider wants us to do well. Get stronger. A rider from Old Maledin who never saw the previous queen ride a dragon. I quickly smile and shake my head. “Sorry, you caught me by surprise. I’m grateful that you believe in us enough to give us advice.”

“Of course, my queen. It’s what dragonriders do.”

A cheer goes up, and I realize I’ve missed another race. I caress Esmeral and check in on how she’s feeling. Though she’s excited, Esmeral’s mind is clear and steady.

“Even if we don’t get a place, we are already on the board,” I whisper to Esmeral, and then give her a mischievous smile. “Even Stesha congratulated us, remember? Rare praise that I doubt we’ll ever hear again.”

As I stroke Esmeral’s neck, I wonder how many other dragons and riders are seeing this game as a chance to prove themselves. Most people who are crowded together watching us have never seen dragons up close before, so maybe we all are.

It’s not long before our names are called. The course is similar to the wingrunner training course Esmeral and I have been practicing in, I’m pleased to see.

“Good skies, Queen Isavelle. But do take care of that little one,” one of the Temple Mothers who is refereeing tells me.

I hear a note of disapproval in her voice as she reminds me about my baby, and Esmeral turns to theHratha’lenwoman with a fierce look. My dragon hasn’t forgotten that theHratha’lenhave done more harm to me than anyone since the High Priest, so reminders from them to take care rankle a little.

I touch my belly and hold my head high. “Esmeral and I always do.”

When the horn sounds, Esmeral doesn’t so much as take off as punches forward into the sky. Her muscles have been growing stronger with all the practice, and I’m prepared for this and hold on tight. The course is unforgivable, with many sharp turns and difficult corners. It doesn’t feel easy, but it does feel blissful. I anticipate every twist and dive my dragon makes, and I shift my weight from side to side to help her maneuver.

When she approaches a hoop, she pulls her wings in, comes through it with a flourishing twist, and soars toward the next one. It feels joyful. We’re really flying. Skillfully flying. Since the beginning of the race, no sound has reached my ears except for the rush of wind and the noise of Esmeral’s wings. Now as we approach the end of the course, I can hear cheers and whistles from the crowd. As we shoot through the final hoop, I’m laughing, and my body is pressed so far forward over Esmeral’s neck that I’m practically hugging her. My dragon flutters gracefully to the ground amid applause, and I dismount, still hugging her.

“Beautiful, wonderful dragon,” I say, kissing her scales over and over again. I can feel her heart racing and swelling with pride.

Suddenly Zabriel is there, scooping me up in a massive hug and swinging me around before setting me carefully back on my feet. His face is glowing with pride. “Sha’lenla, you and Esmeral were magnificent. You flew like the wind. It was like I was watching a wingrunner the way you took some of those corners.”

Behind Zabriel, my bodyguards are glowing with pride.

“Fiala and Dusan have been helping me train,” I tell him.

“Esmeral would have no trouble dodging arrows and fireballs in battles,” Fiala tells him.

Zabriel pats my dragon’s flank. “That she wouldn’t. Well done, Esmeral.”

I hug my dragon happily, thrilled with our result. It doesn’t matter what our place is when I know we flew our very best. We move to the enclosure with the other dragons who have already competed, and I sit perched atop a hay bale, watching the final competitors. My mind is replaying how it felt flying the course, and I barely see which dragons are flying, let alone what times they make. I don’t even know what time we made.

Zabriel is watching the competitors with razor-sharp interest. Suddenly, he turns to me with victory blazing in his eyes and gets down on one knee before me. “Congratulations, my queen.”

“But you’ve already given me your…” I start to say.

He stares at me, and then laughs. “Have you not seen the banners? Do you not realize where you have placed?”

I look over his shoulder, and for the first time, I see the different colored streamers proclaiming the results. There in first place are Esmeral’s colors.

“We won?” I exclaim. “We actually won?”

Zabriel picks me up and swings me around. “You won. You and Esmeral flew the fastest.”

As he holds me up high, and with my arms wrapped around his neck, I can see and hear the crowd roaring. The air is suddenly full of turquoise and gold streamers.

I reach for Esmeral and hug her to me while I’m still held in Zabriel’s arms. We won an event. A truly difficult event. As soon as I’m able, I seek out Menelope and Calliope, for they have placed second and third, and give them my congratulations and hugs.

Finally, I see Dad and Anise waving to me. My sister’s hands are full of turquoise and golden ribbons, and she’s jumping up and down. After I receive their kisses and congratulations, and the Temple Crone presents me with a winner’s golden ribbon, we head into the Great Hall to get something to eat. Now that the race is over, I’m suddenly famished.

Dad gets talking to another craftsperson about his tannery, and Zabriel is discussing the next event with some riders, so it’s just Anise and me piling up our plates.

“Let’s take our food outside. It’s a beautiful afternoon,” I suggest.

In the courtyard, I can’t help but notice that as we eat, Anise’s happiness seems to fade. She picks at her food and seems distracted by something, barely replying to my conversation. As we get up to leave, I notice her flinch. She has a haunted look about her, and her face is pale.

---