For my son, who kept me company and grew alongside every chapter.
It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that the power of dragons establishes the dignity of a house.
For Valeraine Longbourn, this truth was particularly vexing. She undoubtedly hailed from a dragoneer family. Their house had kept dragons for centuries, showing off in the derbies and harnessing the dragons to till their fields. Longbourn was most certainly, undoubtedly, unequivocally a dragon house of dignity. Anyone who supposed anything else was patently incorrect.
Longbourn house was also dying. At the present (and indeed for the last handful of generations), they only had one dragon to boast of: the ancient Lelantos. By best guess, he was 738 years old, making him the oldest dragon in the kingdom. His passing hung over the house year by year. Would this be the season when Lelantos lost his fire and went to the grave?
Valeraine’s parents accepted it as inevitable that once Lelantos was dead, the young ladies of Longbourn would no longer beinvited to balls, or turn the heads of bachelors. Once Lelantos was dead, their house would lose its prestige, dignity, and riches. Valeraine and her sisters must capture rich dragoneer husbands now, before that world of opulence was lost to them.
Valeraine, for one, was not going to give up on her house that easily. One day, Longbourn would be a house that wouldn’t need to beg for scraps of attention from other dragoneers. She dreamed of the day when Longbourn had new eggs, and the dignity they deserved. The other dragon houses would look to them (and not just to check if their dragon had finally died). They would flourish for generations to come. Valeraine would mother a hatchling from its birth, and everyone would marvel at how well-trained and strong her dragon was.
All they had to do was to procure a dragon egg. Their stable wealth from their fields would be no help, as it was forbidden to buy one. No, they would need to make a deal with another house: to breed with Lelentos, or to broker a marriage contract.
The problem, of course, was in the utter impracticality of the whole dream. Who would want to deal with Longbourn, who only held on to their status by the fraying life thread of a single dragon?
Chapter two
Valeraine was reading in the sitting room, surrounded by her three sisters: Alyce, Merna, and Selaide. She browsedThe Dragoneer’s Journal, a newssheet which she liked for its reliable handle on gossip (and because it was managed by their dear uncle). It was then Valeraine stumbled upon the information that would change all of their lives.
This was the opportunity Longbourn needed.
Valeraine’s fingers tingled as she snapped the newssheet down from her face, and announced to the room, “There is to be a new nest, not five miles from here.”
Selaide, the youngest, reacted the strongest. She abandoned the embroidery project she had been poking at and turned in her armchair to look at Valeraine. Her large, innocent eyes widened, then she peered speculatively. “Who is the master of the nest? Is he single? Will he hold balls?”
Valeraine scanned the article for answers.
Merna, the second youngest sister, had readThe Dragoneer’s Journalearlier that day. Though she hadn’t felt it necessary to share this monumental news with the family, now she seized the chance to demonstrate her knowledge. She didn’t even bother looking up from the novel she was reading as she intoned, “It is a Mr. Louhan Nethenabbi. The same clan that has enlarged shipping across the ocean through —”
“Yes but does he bring a wife with him?” Selaide pressed. “Will he be active in the derbies?” She stood from her chair, casting the embroidery on the ground and sending her auburn ringlets around her face swinging. Frustrated with the scholarly focus of the conversation, she plucked the newssheet out of Valeraine’s hands.
Valeraine gave a cry of protest, but the newssheet was already being carried across the room.
Selaide gave a huff of disgust as she noticed that Valeraine had been reading Lady Scaleheart’s column (the least imaginative writer in theJournal, in Selaide’s opinion). Selaide turned the pages to find the society gossip section, and exclaimed in short order, “He is single!”
At this moment, their mother entered the room, as if summoned by this momentous pronouncement. She snatched the newssheet out of Selaide’s hands, and began reading herself.
“A bachelor is coming to establish a nest!” she proclaimed, as if this was fresh news. “It’s so close to us as well; he’s buying the old manor by Oakham Mount. You know the one?” Mamma said to Selaide, who was hanging on her elbow.
Without pausing for a response, Mamma continued her recapitulation: “It is a Mr. Nethenabbi, from the rich Fellarik house, of course. He plans to name the nest Netherfield. And! He is bringing a mature dragon to race. There will surely be many balls, and we will of course be invited as his neighbors.” With this, Mamma turned a plotting look to Alyce, the eldest.
Alyce had been peacefully listening to the hubbub from the sofa, sketching some landscape in her notebook. Her thin lips held a soft smile, delighted by the antics of her sisters.
Mamma mused, “We will have to order a new gown for you, dear. Something that will show off your fine waist…”
Selaide had had enough of being sidelined. She squealed, “I need a new gown, too.” She snatched the paper from Mamma, who relinquished it easily to her spoiled youngest.
Mamma approached Alyce, planning her attack. “It will have to be done up in the latest style, with a Fellarik flair to appeal to Mr. Nethenabbi.”
Selaide grabbed Mamma’s arm.
Mamma continued to Alyce, “You will be the most beautiful lady at the ball, shining above all the rest. When the Master of Netherfield sees you, he will fall in love, and what a fine match it will be.”
“I need a new gown, Mamma, for the ball,” Selaide said.
Mamma finally turned to Selaide, and said placatingly, “You can have the gown Alyce will no longer be using, dear. You — all my daughters — are so beautiful that you shine in any dress.” She then speculated, looking at Valeraine (the second eldest), “Perhaps we will also get you a new gown, in case Mr. Nethenabbi admires you more than your sister.”
In the midst of Selaide’s protests at this further unfairness, Merna left the room before she could be sucked into the maelstrom of Mamma’s schemes.
