Page 25 of Song of the Dragon Rider
The quiet of the room felt heavy after their departure. Gianna’s gentle approach was disarming. It was clear she still cared deeply for Damien, despite his blatant rejection. Whether he liked me or not was still up for debate, but one thing was certain… he didn’t like Gianna.
Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I hurried out of bed and tiptoed to the door so I could press my ear to the wood and listen in on their conversation. Call me nosy, but what the hell? I might as well find out if they’re talking shit about me.
“She’s young, Damien. She doesn’t know any better,” Gianna warned. “I suggest you stay away.”
Damien chuckled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Gianna. You obviously don’t know Arya as well as you think you do.”
“I think I know my sister better than you do!” she huffed.
There was a pause, and I was sure he was tempted to say if she knew her sister as well as she claimed, then she’d know I really wasn’t Arya. But he wisely kept quiet.
“I told you we were over, Gianna. Move on,” he said coldly.
“My father won’t allow you to court Arya,” she cut him off. “The emperor already warned him about you and—”
“I don’t carewhatthe emperor said. If Arya is what I want, then Arya is what I’ll have, and no one will stand in my way.”
Gianna scoffed and laughed. “How can you be so resolute about her and not me?”
“Because you weren’t the one.”
I winced and wanted to barge in on their conversation. He was being so harsh with her, yet had the nerve to scold me about how I treated her when he thought I was Arya! But now, he was treating her the same way Arya had.
Gianna sniffled. “You’re cruel.”
“No, I’m not. I’m a realist, and it’s time you started looking at reality, Gianna. We were never a good match.”
When I heard his footsteps approach the door, I scampered back across the room and vaulted onto the bed, my heart hammering from the fear of getting caught eavesdropping. By the time he opened the door, I was sprawled on the bed like some dramatic Victorian heroine recovering from a fainting spell. One leg was awkwardly crossed over the other, and my hand rested on my forehead as if I was moments away from reciting Shakespeare. Subtlety? Who needed it?
Damien paused in the doorway, his sharp gaze cutting through my Oscar-worthy performance. His eyebrows arched slightly, and I could practically see the gears turning in his dragon brain:She’s an idiot, but she’s my idiot.
He closed the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness of early morning. The tension from their conversation outside hung about him like a cloak, his features set in an expression of frustrated resolve. “You shouldn't eavesdrop,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. It wasn't an accusation, more a statement of fact, but it stung nonetheless.
“I wasn’t!” I blurted, sitting up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. “I was… just… practicing mindfulness. On the bed. Lying very still. Listening to the universe.”
He stared at me, unimpressed. “The universe?” he repeated, his voice flat.
“Yes, the universe,” I replied, doubling down. “It has a lot to say if you just take the time to—”
“You were literally pressed against the door ten seconds ago,” he interrupted, crossing his arms. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”
I froze, my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish caught in the act. “Okay, fine!” I flung my hands up in mock surrender. “Maybe I was listening atinybit, but in my defense, youwere being shady out there! And, uh, this house has terrible soundproofing.”
Damien didn't smile. Instead, he took a few steps towards the window and stared at the gradually lightening sky in silence. He watched the sunrise like some brooding romance novel cover model. I mean, all he was missing was a wind machine and an unbuttoned shirt. “It doesn't matter,” he finally said, his back still turned to me. “What matters is that you understand where things stand.”
“Oh, good.” I flopped back onto the bed. “I love a good TED Talk aboutwhere things stand.Enlighten me, oh, wise dragon prince. Where is that, exactly?” My voice rang with a defiance I wasn't entirely sure I felt. The emotional rollercoaster of the past hour had left me feeling drained and a little raw.
He turned to look at me, his expression hard to read. “Gianna is part of my past. And whatever this,” he gestured vaguely between us, “is going to be, it's not going to be anything like what I had with her.”
I swallowed, unsure how to respond. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling, as if he was trying to convey more than what his words expressed. “And what isthis, Damien?” I challenged, needing to understand his intentions if I was to navigate the complicated dynamics of our relationship.
“We're allies,” he said after a moment, his voice firm. “For now, that's all we need to be.”
“For now?” I repeated, tilting my head. “That’s suspiciously vague. Is this one of those ‘will-they-or-won’t-they’ things? Because if it is, I demand better writing for my character arc.”
Damien groaned and muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite catch but which I assumed probably wasn’t complimentary. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are,” I shot back, smirking. “So who’s the real fool in this scenario?”
