Page 11 of The Sapphire Dragon Prince
I smiled as we moved from the brightness of the meadow to the relative dimness of the inside of the storehouse. It was such a relief to see Misha excited and eager, even if he didn’t entirely know what he would be facing.
“What sort of things do you suppose we’ll need to find? Cherry pits and feathers and mirror shards?” he asked as he walked farther into the storehouse, looking up and around at the many shelves of supplies.
“Let’s see,” I said, looking around as well.
The storehouse truly had everything. On one side of the vast space were hung suits of armor, shirts of chainmail, and weapons of every kind. There were swords and spears and axes, and even a few bows and quivers of arrows. There was armor and weaponry for horses as well. I stepped closer to examine all of it, hoping to find something suitable for my omega’s smaller frame.
“Look at all this,” Misha said in awe as he examined shelves on the other side of the space.
I turned to find him standing in front of what could have been a banquet’s worth of food. There was bread and various cheeses and sausages, along with many pots of preserves, bothsweet and savory. Misha took a jar of something from the shelf and looked at it before putting it back with a thoughtful sound.
There was more in the storehouse than just armor, weapons, and food. There were sacks of every size and description to carry bedrolls and camping tools, tents that could be pitched and tools for everything from fixing carriages to mining. The supplies were appropriate for people who might go mountain climbing or those who intended to swim through the sea.
“There is so much to choose from. What do we take with us?” Misha asked. “What are we going to need to make me better?”
I turned in a circle, looking around at it all and taking it all in.
“First and foremost,” I said, heading for the wall of armor. “I want you to be protected on this quest.” Especially since I didn’t know how much I would be able to protect him myself, especially from The Black Mirror.
“Alright,” Misha said, following me.
I pored over the armor and selected a sturdy, gleaming breastplate made of silvery metal and set with sapphires. It seemed only appropriate, given who I was. Misha found a woolen shirt to wear under the armor, and once he’d donned that, I fastened him into the breastplate. I also added arm and leg guards and found a helmet that matched the rest of the armor.
“If that doesn’t protect you, nothing will,” I said, returning to the wall and selecting a powerful sword. I brought it back to my mate, who lifted his arm heavily to take it. “No enemy would dare to harm you equipped like that.”
“I suppose not.” Misha said, though he didn’t sound as enthusiastic about his suit of armor as I was.
“We’ll need a few other things to keep you safe and secure as well,” I said, heading to the other side of the storehouse and taking up one of the leather packs.
I filled it with a few items of food, but also with a large dagger, a hammer for pitching tents, a coil of rope in case we reached a pit and needed to climb out, and various other tools. When I returned to Misha, I slipped the pack on his back, then stepped back with a smile to study my work.
My smile quickly dropped. Misha had all but disappeared under the heavy armor and extensive supplies. He didn’t really know how to hold the sword and could barely keep it lifted.
“Nothing will harm me now?” Misha asked, his voice small and echoing somewhat in the vast helmet.
I frowned. I’d given my mate everything he could possibly need to be safe and protected, but instead of making him look like he could withstand an army, he looked like he might drown under the weight of all the “help” I’d given him.
“It’s not right, is it,” I said, my shoulders sagging. All I wanted to do was keep Misha safe, but anyone with eyes could see that I’d only made it worse.
Misha cleared his throat slightly and said in the softest, kindest voice, “These might be the right things to keep you safe and make you strong, but I can hardly move.”
I sighed. He was right. The same sort of things that would make me stronger were only crippling my sweet omega. What he really needed to keep him safe was not equipment and armor, it was my magic. But without our bond forming, I had no idea how much of it I would have to surround him with.
“Let’s take this all off,” I said, moving toward him and starting to strip away all the protective layers I’d burdened him with. “You’re right. This isn’t the way to equip you for the journey ahead of you.”
We managed to get the pack and all the armor and weapons off Misha’s shoulders and set it aside. The trouble was, without all those things covering him, my dear mate looked morevulnerable than ever. It was almost enough for me to march back to Mother and demand another way to heal him.
“There has to be another way to prepare for this quest,” Misha said, glancing around the storehouse again. “I know we need to be safe and protected, but I can’t wear all that armor or carry a sword.”
“What makes you feel strong and safe, then?” I asked, accompanying him back to the side of the storehouse with the food and smaller tools.
Misha shrugged and rubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing, really. Not when I know how much power my father has over me.”
“He doesn’t have power over you here,” I insisted, standing by his side as we looked up at one of the shelves.
Misha peeked sideways at me as if he wanted to believe me but didn’t quite.
He looked at the shelves again, then blinked into a smile and reached for a small dagger, no bigger than the kind used to open letters. “This is pretty,” he said, turning the small, slim, silver thing over. “It reminds me of my Papa, of his garden. See?”
