Page 17 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
“Val!” Alyce’s bit her lip. “You could have been hurt.”
“She was fine,” Selaide said.
“Yes, but there are so many casualties of derbies, both man and beast.”
There was nothing to say. Alyce was right. There were routinely deaths of dragoneers.
It had been reckless. It was because Alyce cared so deeply for her that she criticized, but Valeraine couldn’t help but feel a little resentful. Alyce hadn’t complained against Kesley racing.
“Lelantos always flies better for Val than for me, you know that,” Kesley said. “Someone needed to race for Longbourn, and we needed it to be her.”
“He’s my dragon,” Valeraine said simply. Before the race, she wouldn’t have dared to say that. She hadn’t mothered Lelantos from a hatchling. There were many people who handled their dragon; Lelantos belonged to Longbourn dragoneers across hundreds of years. But Valeraine had claimed Lelantos now, and felt claimed in return. She was his rider.
“But you won’t do it again, will you?” Alyce’s voice hitched, almost to the point of tears.
No, Valeraine wouldn’t race again.
It would be easy to reassure and comfort Alyce. The risk was in the past, overcome. Of course she wouldn’t do it a second time; the risk to Lelantos and herself was too high. Even if it brought acclaim to the house — if she was ever discovered as the masked rider, the backlash would be catastrophic.
Valeraine would simply tell Alyce the truth: that she was finished with derbies and the danger they presented. “I…”
But she couldn’t say that. The words were bitter on her tongue, heavy and stinging. Her mind was completely made up: she would not race again. But her heart wasn’t so sure. Saying she wouldn’t do it again felt like a lie.
“I may,” she said instead.
She may.
Those words reverberated in her heart. She may ride again. She may not. She felt herself balancing on a precipice, not sure which way she would fall. To one side was the risk of the derbies,of being discovered as a transgressive rider. To the other side was a life of mediocrity, watching her house slowly decline in status as their dragon declined in strength. In one future, she would be working to save her house, and in another she would be an appropriate member of her house.
Lelantos hadn’t been ready for the Netherfield derby, that much was plain. But with careful training, he might be ready for the next one. She had felt his pain, but she had also felt his triumphal joy. He had been as enamored with racing as she was. It was the thing that had connected them; the brave dive to the winning position. If it hadn’t been spoiled by Pemberley, they would have had the first-place win as well.
“Val, you wouldn’t,” Alyce pleaded. “At least, promise me you’ll be careful.”
Valeraine put her hand on Alyce’s arm. She may race again, and it was impossible to be careful while fighting for position in the air. But she could acknowledge her sister’s care and sweet heart. “Thank you for looking after me.”
Selaide had grown bored with this sentimentality, and snatched back the newssheet. “Mr. Pemberley really is a horrid man, no matter the circumstance. Did you hear how rude he was to Valeraine at the ball? And now here he is, riding rough and highlighted by Scaleheart: ‘Mr. P— (whom our readers may remember from the incident of one year ago at Marfont) had particularly bad sportsmanship.’ I wonder what he did... Merna will have the originalJournal.” With that, Selaide left the room.
Alyce wasn’t ready to drop the subject. “Who else knows?” she asked Valeraine and Kesley.
“Just Selaide, Kesley, and now you,” Valeraine replied. “Papa thinks Kesley raced, masked to preserve the veneer of nobility of our house. And don’t tell Mamma!”
That made Alyce smile, imagining the monster their mother would become if she found out. “Give that warning to Selaide. But why did you do it?”
“Longbourn needed to race.” It had needed to happen, hadn’t it? Now, because of the derby, Longbourn was in a better negotiation position, they might get an egg. Alyce couldn’t see that; she never expected them to reach higher. “I don’t regret being the one to do it,” Valeraine said, with a bite in her words. She would not be talked out of that. It had been the right decision, at the time.
Alyce didn’t take up the argument. Of course she didn’t, she wasn’t Selaide. She didn’t reassure Valeraine by agreeing with her, either. She merely returned to her embroidery. Valeraine and Kesley resumed their card game, in silence. But it was companionable. Alyce wouldn’t hold a grudge, she was merely not going to fight with her sister.
Selaide burst into the room, her arms full of paper. “I’ve got it,” she sang. “The article where Mr. Pemberley’s deeds are lambasted by Lady Scaleheart. The post also came; something for you, Alyce.” She dangled a letter from pinched fingers, waiting for Alyce to snatch it from her.
Alyce opened it at once. “It’s from Mr. Nethenabbi. He has invited me to tea, and to tour their nest, and the eggs.” Alyce looked at Valeraine, “He also extends the invitation to our family. You care much more about dragon nesting than I do, you should come.”
“You had better hope Pemberley won’t be there,” Selaide said, seizing the attention of the room. “Listen to what Scaleheart has to say: ‘He is the perfect example of the worst of dragon riders: violent, grandiose, and proud. In this derby,’ (This is from a year ago),” Selaide interjected, “ ‘many reputable witnesses saw him deliberately rip at the wing of poor Mr. Allencourt’s dragon, causing them both to fall to their untimely end. The funeral washeld…’ Oh what a scandal!” Selaide said gleefully. “I’m surprised he’s still allowed to race by his house.”
“People never care what their dragoneers do, so long as they are bringing money to the house,” Kesley mused. Then he laughed — a joyful bell. “Longbourn included, letting you ride for us.”
“There were some interested in Lelantos after the derby,” Valeraine said. “We may get a dragon egg from it.”
“Precisely. And so, for that excellent hope, some danger is justified,” Kesley said.
