Page 25 of Realms of Swords and Storms
"I should go find Instructor Varius," I said, breaking the strange tension. "I'll see you both at the training field."
As I walked away, I glanced back to see them still standing together, closer than necessary, their heads bent slightly toward each other as though continuing a conversation too private for others to hear.
Curious, but I had more pressing concerns at the moment. The morning's exercise involved advanced aerial manoeuvres—complex patterns that required perfect coordination between rider and dragon. The kind of trust and communication that came naturally to me and Sirrax now that I understood our bond, but that the other riders struggled to achieve.
I found Sirrax already in the dragon paddock, his massive black form distinct among the other beasts. The iron collar was back in place around his neck, the broken catch carefully hidden, the gap invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.
As I approached, his head lifted, golden eyes finding mine instantly. Through our bond, I felt his greeting—warmth and recognition flowing from his mind to mine.
Mate comes.
Good morning, I replied silently, still marvelling at our ability to communicate this way.Ready for today's exercise?
A sense of eagerness flowed from him, along with something darker—resentment at having to perform for the Empire that had enslaved him. I stroked his muzzle, wishing I could free him from this charade.
"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."
I turned to find Jalend striding toward me, a warm smile lighting his handsome face. His usually perfect attire was slightly dishevelled—riding leathers a bit askew, a smudge of dirt on one cheek. It made him look more human somehow, and considerably more attractive.
"Jalend," I greeted him with an answering smile. "You look like you've been wrestling with your dragon rather than riding him."
He laughed, running a hand through his slightly tousled hair. "Valerian decided this morning was the perfect time to test my reflexes. Nearly threw me during our warm-up flight."
"And did you pass his test?"
"Barely." His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled—a detail I'd found myself noticing more often lately. "Though I suspect my dignity suffered irreparable damage. Your Sirrax, on the other hand, seems the model of cooperation."
He stepped closer to Sirrax, admiring the dragon's gleaming scales. "Magnificent creature," he murmured, genuineappreciation in his voice. Through our bond, I felt Sirrax's assessment of Jalend—cautious acceptance tinged with the barest hint of jealousy.
"He has his moments of stubbornness," I said, exchanging a knowing look with Sirrax that made his golden eyes glint with humour. "But we've reached an understanding."
"An understanding," Jalend repeated, his tone teasing as he turned back to me. "Is that what you call it? The way you two fly together, it's more like you share a single mind."
My pulse quickened at how close he'd come to the truth. "Just good training."
"Please." He rolled his eyes, that aristocratic arrogance making a brief appearance. "I've been riding dragons since I could walk, and I've never seen a bond develop so quickly or so deeply. You're either a natural prodigy or you're hiding some secret technique from the rest of us mere mortals."
I laughed, relieved that he seemed to attribute our connection to skill rather than anything supernatural. "Trust me, if I had secret techniques, I'd sell them for a fortune and retire to a quiet life away from dawn training sessions."
"Liar," he said, but his smile softened the accusation. "You love this as much as I do. The freedom of flight, the connection with these magnificent beings." His voice dropped lower, his expression turning suddenly serious. "The way it feels to be truly understood by another living creature."
Something in his tone, in the intensity of his gaze, made my cheeks warm. "Yes," I admitted quietly. "I do love that."
For a moment, we just looked at each other, something unspoken passing between us. Then Jalend seemed to catch himself, his usual mask of casual confidence sliding back into place.
"Well, today's exercise should be entertaining, at least," he said, nodding toward where Instructor Varius was setting upa complex obstacle course. "Aerial evasion patterns. I suspect most of our classmates will end up flat on their backs in the mud."
"Speaking from experience?" I teased. "That dirt on your face suggests you've already had a close encounter with the ground this morning."
He rubbed at his cheek, looking surprisingly boyish for a moment. "Is it still there? Damn. So much for my carefully cultivated image of perfection."
I reached up without thinking, brushing away the smudge with my thumb. "There. Perfection restored."
His hand caught mine before I could withdraw it, holding it against his cheek for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "Thank you," he said softly, and I wasn't sure if he was thanking me for removing the dirt or for something else entirely.
I pulled my hand back, suddenly aware of how intimate the gesture had been. "We should probably join the others before Varius decides to make an example of us."
"Indeed." He offered me his arm in an exaggerated courtly gesture. "Shall we face the aerial gauntlet together, Lady Livia?"
