Page 3 of Lady Dragon
KIREK
Kirek craved open skies, the wind under her wings, the heat of the rock beneath her. She resented these claustrophobic walls, her constricting clothes, and the chill, rainy weather that made them necessary.
She despised her very skin. She felt like she was choking on her own soft flesh.
But this couldn’t be avoided. Just like this outing with the even softer human princess trailing behind her. The path Kirek strode—through strange, unnatural gardens, clearly planted by human hands and bursting with flowers—was made up of finely crushed white rock instead of smooth stone or simple dirt. All of it was a poor substitute for the nature it mimicked.
The white walls of the castle stretched high above her like the spears of a palisade—useless against a dragon, no matter their size, and yet decidedly unwelcoming. Humans should have consulted her kind when constructing it—to make it either harsher or more accessible. But it had been built a century before dragons had begun speaking to humansthreecenturies ago with the Heartstone. The queendom had made some adjustments for dragonkind since, such as Kirek’s open and airy quarters in the highest tower of the newer keep—which wasentirely and absurdly built of blue marble, after the original had been destroyed in the War of Fire—but many of the old fortifications remained the same.
“These flower gardens are my favorite,” the princess said, trying to draw Kirek’s attention, perhaps only in an attempt to slow her down as the girl struggled with her encumbering gown. And yet, there was real pride in this Samansa’s voice, in contrast to Kirek’s disapproval.
Kirek stopped only long enough to glance at the waves of blossoms unrolling around them at lengths excessive enough to rival the princess’s skirts. “What is their purpose, exactly?” she asked, her voice still strange to her own ears, sharp and grating.
It wasn’t as though Kirek hated flowers, at least not in the wild where they attracted bees that made honey, which in turn drew other creatures that dragons liked to eat. Kirek didn’t see any humans hunting game among the flower beds, though, let alone any errant creatures to disturb the blossoms other than the bees that were probably too difficult to keep out.
These walls couldn’t defend against a bee’s wings, never mind a dragon’s.
“To look… pretty?” Samansa said, her pride diminishing, but Kirek had already turned her back and carried on without a word.
“Why did you sayluncheonas if it were an unfamiliar thing?” asked the princess, hurrying after her. “You mustn’t feel obligated to join, by the by,” she added quickly. Even hopefully, perhaps?
Did she think avoiding Kirek would make her appear any less weak? Or the presence of her guard, Jamsens, remaining a discreet distance behind them? The opposite was true. Whichwas why Kirek had invitedheron this walk—while alone, no less, in a foreign stronghold.
It was better to face your challenges teeth first, so to speak.
“I will join in this human form,” Kirek said. “But dragons rarely eat more than once per week, unless we’re brooding.”
“Brooding?” asked the princess, finally catching up to her. She was exceedingly slow.
Kirek resisted an impatient sigh. Would she always have to explain so much, with these harsh, retched sounds? The silent speech of dragons was far cleaner and more concise. “Laying a clutch of eggs and keeping it warm.”
“And all of you dragons do…that?”
“We allcan.” After the crunching non-silence of a few more steps on the unnecessarily broken rock path, Kirek couldn’t help but confirm, “You truly know so little about us?”
“Apparently so, which is why I’m here hounding you,” the princess said with a self-deprecating little laugh.
“I would kill a hound before it could pursue me.” The princess’s eyes—amber—widened, so Kirek reminded her, “You’re not hounding me. You’re here because I invited you.”
“Oh yes, of course. But byhere, you mean on this walk. I meant learning alongside you in general, during your stay. Because I washerealready, as this is my home and we invitedyou, but you know what I mean.”
“Are humans always so imprecise with their words?”
The princess smiled, casting her eyes to the side. “No doubt one of our many faults. Let’s see, what do I know about dragons? You’re all female, and you have your young without… erm… needing—well. There aren’t any male dragons, so let’s leave it at that, even though I’m afraid I’m being terribly imprecise again.”
Kirek cast a wry glance at her. “We don’t need any fire from outside to reproduce. We have our own within us. The only external force we require is a pair-bond to tell us it’s safe.”
“Pair—? Never mind.” Samansa’s cheeks pinkened even more, and she asked abruptly, “Have youbrooded?”
Kirek stiffened, the only outward sign of her pique that escaped too-changeable flesh. “I would never do that before I best my mother. I wouldn’t make a challenger of a daughter before either I or she had earned our status. Besides, I am not so old. We have long lives.”
“I see.” The princess giggled—apparently she did that when she was uneasy, which appeared to be often, at least in Kirek’s presence. “We certainly do things differently here. I’m supposed to find a consort as soon as possible and produce my own heir.”
Kirek raised a brow. “You can’t be that old, either.”
“No, I’m eighteen, only barely come of age. But humans don’t live as long as dragons, and we’re also somewhat fragile in comparison. It’s best to start early when it comes to heirs, especially if one has trouble producing a daughter.”
Kirek blinked. Of course. Dragons only produced daughters, but this realm containedmen, and they didn’t spring fully formed from the earth. If only they could be so easily rooted out of the species. They’d caused the War of Fire, after all, and yet they werethefire that women needed to bear their young.
