Page 139 of Golden Queen
We left Cosdam just after dawn, racing north. The air grew increasingly cold, so that by the time I saw the faint ridges of mountains in the distance, snow was falling from the slate gray sky.
Aben and Britaxia were both swathed in thick furs we had picked up before leaving the city. Their far away outlines atop their dragons were little more than fuzzy smudges.
My dragon flew as the point of the little triangle formation we made, her small size and lack of a rider making her faster and more agile than the larger dragons.
Warm in Io's shield, my furs were lashed to the back of Veles' saddle. I found myself leaning more and more into the hard wall of dragon mage at my back as we flew, taking full advantage of the fact that he simply could not move away.
Perhaps it was fighting dirty, and I should be ashamed of myself, but I was not. I cared less for the faceless king whose name was on my betrothal document than I did for the honor of my word.
Time was fleeting. We inched closer and closer to the marriage vow that I knew I could not break—the one that I would give in earnestness and keep in good faith. Not just because a vow made before the gods was sacred, but because breaking a vow made to a king was dangerous—just as likely to have you losing your head as your kingdom.
But a betrothal was just a contract, and I cared little and less for the sanctity of that parchment when weighed against the last dying gasps of my battered heart.
I had already decided I would wring what little happiness I could from my shattered life. Now that I knew that broken piece of me—the piece of me that wanted him more than air—had only been slightly bent out of shape, Ineededhim.
He, of course, was the obstacle then. I might have thrown my honor to the dogs, but he had not. He had not touched me in any but the most chaste and innocent way since he put his name on that betrothal document as proxy for his brother.
Guilt crashed through me at the thoughts swirling in my head. Could I really be considering a path to corrupt him—to lead him to throw away his honor as I had done mine, when the act had already cost me so much of my own self-respect?
The answer was no, I would not do that to him...right up until the moment the city of Cold Garden came into view on the snow-covered horizon. My mind went immediately to the prospect of being alone with him, and the guilt at what I was considering flew right past me, fading away behind me like the heavy, fat snowflakes falling from the leaden sky.
By the time we reached the river and the city, the snow was thick. It lay on the ground in deep drifts that concealed and weighed down the godsgrass I knew still grew on this side of the Dyskala River.
Cold Garden, or more accurately, the river itself, marked the end of the godsgrass plains.
As we circled the city, Veles banking and lowering to the ground, we momentarily crossed the river. I noted that it was the first time I had ever been in the world outside the godsgrass.
But then we crossed the river again, and I laughed, sharing the thought with Io that my journey outside the plains had been brief.
"I'm not sure whether I should be sad that you've never seen the world, or excited for you that you're about to see more of it than you'll know what to do with," he said.
"Both," I replied, the prospect of adventure momentarily making me forget where that journey was ultimately leading.
The wind was only slightly less intense on the ground than it had been in the air. It stung my face with icy pellets and whipped my hair around my head.
We donned our furs for the trek to the city. A hood made from gray and black-flecked snow bear fur surrounded my face in a circle. It made it even harder to see around me in the winter storm that was in full force.
"Will the dragons be okay out here?" I shouted over the wind.
Io smiled and nodded towards them. I followed his gaze. My dragon had joined Veles, and they were playing. I couldn’t see Melor and Iaxis, but I knew they were out there somewhere in the driving snow since I’d watched Aben and Britaxia land.
Veles looked like nothing so much as a big dog as he lowered himself and pushed his snout through the snow, huffing and blowing as he rooted around. He came up, head covered in white, looking comical.
I laughed as he shook himself, sending the snow flying off in all directions.
My dragon was, by turns, bouncing through the drifts and flapping above them. When she dove down into the white, her small, pale body was swallowed up entirely by the snow.
“They love it,” I said, wonderingly.
"They are made for the cold mountains," Aben put in, striding up with Britaxia at his side, appearing like magic from within the swirling storm.
Aben’s words brought to mind something I’d once read in an old text in Albiyn.Dragons do not manufacture fire, they are made of it. Their bodies, merely the vessel that contains the inferno.
Of course they would be fine in a blizzard. The falling snow was not even collecting on Veles' back. The flakes melted on contact with his heated scales.
Io reached out and took my hand. I was grateful for the warmth that bled into me on contact. It spread throughout my body as he warmed me through the simple touch.
I squeezed his hand in thanks as we trudged through the blizzard. He pulled me along at his side, and I hoped he could see where he was going. All I saw was swirling white in every direction. Even the tall forms of Aben and Britaxia, just behind us, were mostly obscured by the driving snow.
