Page 15 of Song of the Dragon Rider
“Look,” I started, “I need to get back to my prison. Sorry to cut this conversation short, but can I go now?” I said gruffly.
“Prison?” Thorne asked with a quirked brow. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Damien sent me a heated glare. “That’s her dramatic way of saying she wants to go home.”
“If only…” I sighed.
“Arya,” Damien growled in warning.
If looks could kill, I would have been six feet under. I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.” I stood and straightened my dress. “Let’s go. I agreed to breakfast and nothing else. This field trip has been greatly extended.”
Damien snatched my wrist and pulled me towards him, slamming me against his chest. “Behave,” he growled in my ear.
“Behave,” I mimicked under my breath.
“Brother, we’ll be going now. It seems our dear Lady Arya is tired.” Damien grabbed our cloaks, my wrist still clenched in his hand. “We’ll be in touch soon.”
Thorne nodded. “I’ll let you know once the coin has been retrieved.”
“Very well,” Damien said. He dragged me out of The Gilded Serpent without another word.
5
ARYA
Three horrible days had passed since I woke in this strange, sterile world, and I had already endured far more than I thought humanly possible. The incessant beeping machines, the overly cheerful people called nurses, and Angie—always hovering, always questioning—had tested my patience to its very limits. I had demanded to leave this abysmal place called a hospital almost immediately, but apparently, this place required “medical clearance” before releasing me. A ridiculous concept. Back in Elaria, I would have summoned the healer, and the matter would have been resolved in minutes. Here, however, I was subject to their absurd rules and procedures.
Finally, the day of my release arrived and Angie arrived to “assist” me. The thought of needing help from this jester of a woman grated on my nerves, but I had no choice. She walked into the room, her expression caught somewhere between relief and exasperation.
“Ready to go, Cat?” she asked brightly, her arms laden with strange, soft bags.
“For the hundredth time, my name is Lady Arya!” I snapped, throwing the stiff hospital blanket off me. “And yes, I am ready. Though I can’t imagine why this process has taken so long. If this is how your people handle matters of efficiency, it is no wonder your world is so chaotic.”
Angie sighed and set the bags on a chair. “Okay,Lady Arya,” she said with a mocking bow. “Let’s get you dressed and out of here. I’m sure everyone will be absolutely heartbroken to see you go.”
Ignoring her insolence, I glanced at the clothes she brought. They were… questionable, to say the least. A pair of fitted trousers made from some strange, rough material and a plain shirt devoid of embroidery or embellishments, though it was surprisingly soft. With a frown, I held the shirt up as though it might bite me. “What is this? A servant’s uniform?”
Angie snorted. “Those are jeans and a T-shirt. Pretty standard for… well, everyone. Trust me, you’ll blend right in.”
“Blend in?” I repeated, horrified. “I have no intention ofblending in. This fabric is coarse and unworthy of me.” I dropped it on the bed and crossed my arms with an indignant huff.
“Unless you want to walk out of here in that hospital gown,” Angie said, jabbing her hands on her hips, “I suggest you put them on. And no, you can’t just demand silk.”
I huffed but relented. Minutes later, dressed in the offensive garments, I followed Angie out of the hospital, my nose wrinkling at every turn. The air outside was thick with strange smells—burning oil, metal, and something faintly sweet but artificial. The sounds were worse. Unnatural roars and honks filled the air, assaulting my ears.
And then I saw it.
A metallic beast sat waiting outside the hospital, low and gleaming like a predator poised to pounce. Its windows weredark, and its form unnervingly sleek. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“What isthat?” I demanded, taking a step back.
Angie blinked, then burst out laughing. “It’s a car, Cat. Don’t tell me you don’t remember what a car is. It’s what we use to get from place to place. What do you think we use, horses?”
“Of course I’ve never seen a car before!” I snapped. “In Elaria, we have carriages. And they are drawn by horses, as is proper.”
“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century.” Angie opened the door to the contraption. It let out a faint click. “Get in.”
I stared at the open door as though it led to my doom. “You expect me to climb inside that…thing?”
