Page 27 of Song of the Dragon Rider
He froze and his jaw slackened as he stared at me in open disbelief. “You’renot?”
“I mean, well… I’m growing up, you know…” I chuckled awkwardly and motioned to Maeve behind me for help.
“Young Master,” she hurried in for the assist. “Lady Arya has grown in the past few… weeks,” she grimaced. “She’s… different, but in a good way. She has grown significantly.”
Jacob's smile slightly faltered, his eyes narrowing as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn't quite fit. He studied me for a moment longer, then shrugged it off with a shake of his head.
“It seems a lot has changed while I was away,” he commented, a hint of confusion still lingering in his voice. “I'm just glad to be back with family.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small, wrapped package. “I brought something for you and Gianna. Just a little something from the craftspeople at the border.”
He handed me the package, his fingers brushing mine. The contact was brief, but it sent a ripple of awkwardness through me, reminding me of my ongoing deceit. I took the gift with a forced smile, feeling the weight of it in my hands. It was beautifully wrapped in soft, patterned fabric, tied with rough twine.
“Thank you, Jacob,” I said, trying to muster genuine enthusiasm. “I’m sure Gianna and I will love it.”
Jacob nodded, seemingly pleased with my reaction. “How have things been here? Last I heard, Gianna and Prince Damien...” he trailed off, giving me a curious look.
I hesitated, unsure how to navigate this part of the conversation. “Things have changed,” I admitted, choosing my words carefully. “Gianna and Damien... are no longer together.”
Jacob's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? That's news to me. They seemed quite serious last time I was home.”
“Yeah, things... just didn’t work out,” I said, feeling the awkwardness thicken.
Jacob shifted, seeming to process the information. “Well, I hope she's okay. And how about you? All good with you?”
I nodded and offered a small smile. “Yeah, all good here,” I lied smoothly.
Jacob chuckled, shaking his head. “Home never changes, huh? Always something going on.”
Our conversation meandered to lighter topics, with Jacob sharing tales of his time at the border, about the dragons he saw. His stories were full of laughter and danger, and I found myself genuinely enjoying the conversation, briefly forgetting the lies that hung between us. His tales reminded me a lot of my time in the service. It made me miss home.
“My lady, we should return to the Ryder residence. Lord Zacharia is anxiously waiting for the young master,” Maeve interrupted our conversation.
“Oh, right,” Jacob said. “Father is home waiting for us. Gianna might be there, too.”
I nodded. “The carriage is nearby. Come on.”
We walked toward the waiting carriage as the parade's last notes drifted away and the crowd dispersed. The morning sun hung high, the warm glow softening the usual briskness and making the late morning air feel unusually gentle and inviting.
The carriage was stationed near a quaint square, where the lingering excitement of the parade still buzzed around us. As we approached, the carriage driver spotted us and quickly straightened and prepared for our departure, his actions reflecting the crisp efficiency expected in Elaria.
“Good morning, my lady, young master Jacob,” he greeted with a respectful nod, holding the door open as we climbed inside. The interior of the carriage was a welcome escape from the growing heat outside, with plush velvet seats providing a cool haven. The wooden panels inside were finely crafted, the intricate designs catching the light and creating a play of shadows and highlights across the fabric. The scent of polishedleather mixed with a faint floral aroma, possibly from Maeve’s perfume, filled the space, creating a subtle, pleasing ambiance.
Once seated, Maeve across from Jacob and me, the driver shut the door with a firm click and took his place at the front. He gave the reins a gentle flick and the carriage sprang to life, the horses’ hooves clattering lightly on the cobblestone streets.
The ride through the Northern District was smooth, with the smooth suspension of the carriage cushioning the rumbles of the uneven road. Each turn and dip were gracefully managed, allowing us a peaceful journey. The sound of the city shifted around us, from the laughter and chatter of parade-goers to the quieter, rhythmic hum of daily life in Elaria.
Jacob, energized by his return, continued to regale us with stories from his travels, his voice lively and full of warmth.
“The dragon fleet dove in and destroyed the enemy in one single move. It was glorious!” he gloated. “If you ever get the chance to go up to Dragon Valley, you must go and see the dragons yourself, Arya. They’re beautiful, majestic creatures.”
I wanted to tell him I’d had a front row view from the back of one, but I couldn’t. No one was allowed to know Damien could shift.
“Have you ever ridden a dragon before?” I asked innocently.
Jacob’s brows shot up to his hairline. “What? No! That’s practically taboo, Arya. Humans haven’t ridden dragons in centuries. Don’teverask anyone that,” he whispered.
I frowned and nodded.
The Ryder groundswere buzzing when we arrived. During our absence, the courtyard had been transformed into an open-air banquet hall, with dozens of tables draped in white linen andadorned with vibrant floral arrangements. The air was saturated with the aromas of roasted meats and freshly baked bread, enticing even from a distance. A small ensemble played softly in the background, their music blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves and quiet chatter of the servants setting up.
