Valeraine surrendered to her younger sister’s scheming. Within an hour, the costume was fixed to her high standards.
Selaide clapped her hands. “You are the picture of a dragoneer. They will sing ballads of you.”
“Of Lelantos, the oldest dragon to ever live, so brave and strong.” Valeraine said.
“Of course. And of his daring rider, shrouded in mystery with the handsome mask and dashing mien.” Selaide handed the empty burlap sack to Valeraine. “You and Kesley should report to the derby grounds soon. I’m off to prepare myself for the ball. I think I’ll wear that new cream gown, with the lace.” Selaide delivered this announcement as if it were idle speculation, of little note. She said it as if it were not a betrayal, a sly backstabbing.
“The elegant cream gown that was tailored forme? For this very event? The one that arrived only three days ago?” Valeraine could hardly believe Selaide’s gall.
“I have given you your outfit, so it is only fair that you will provide mine.”
“Will I wear this to the ball, then?” Valeraine stiffly gestured to the costume.
Selaide’s face broke, as if she were about to cry. “Val, you’re being unfair. How can you treat me so, after all that I have done for you?”
“How could you think to get away with blatant stealing?”
“After I’ve worked so hard on the alterations for you…” Selaide bemoaned.
“We do this for Longbourn. When I ride, I’m riding for the house. You should be proud to contribute.” Valeraine grasped for something — anything — to distract Selaide from this. She didn’t want to get in a fight. “Mamma has also chosen a new gown for you, hasn’t she?”
“It’s Merna’s old dress! It is hideous.” The imminent tears were gone, quick as that, replaced by nebby disgust. “Just the memory of her in that dress has tainted it. I will be repellent to all who look at me.”
“No-one remembers what Merna wears, anyway. You will be repellent based on your personality alone, I am sure,” Valeraine said.
“The gown is haunted by Merna’s miasma! She will never marry, and now the whole garment has been cursed with spinsterhood. You cannot be so heartless to make me wear it.”
Valeraine stepped toward Selaide, menacing her with a superior five inches of height. “You mind your tongue. Merna is much cleverer than you, and will land a practical husband long before your frivolous flirting does.”
“And you will never marry, as everyone can see how vile you are. Not even winning a derby will change how ugly you are, inside and out.” Selaide retreated from the room.
“Don’t touch my dress!” Valeraine called after her. She couldn’t chase her into the halls wearing the costume, but oh how she wanted to.
Valeraine took off the costume, put it in the burlap sack, and donned her typical riding skirts. In a few hours, she would meet Kesley in the nest, and they would fly to Netherfield together. She could transform herself into the masked rider in the woods outside Netherfield manor, and none would be the wiser that she was not Kesley. She hoped.
She hugged the sack to her chest. The costume truly was superb, even if it was made by Selaide.
Chapter nine
For the last little leg of the flight to Netherfield, it was just Valeraine and Lelantos. They had dropped off Kesley in the woods nearby, and she had donned the costume. Now, they circled Netherfield manor from the air, looking for where they should report for the race. It was nearly six in the evening, when the race was scheduled to begin.
This was not the first time Valeraine had seen the manor from a dragon’s eye view. The estate had lain empty for decades, a haunting reminder of a house that had fallen out of power. She didn’t even know the name of the family that had once lived there. It had been a game among the Longbourn sisters as children to explore the derelict grounds. Now, those grounds had been cleaned, the paths scrubbed, and some even re-cobbled. The house had been washed, no longer the specter hanging over the neighborhood but a refreshed, visiting gentleman. The manor was larger than Longbourn’s, andValeraine ached to see the inside to determine if the splendor continued.
There had once been a nest barn on the grounds, but it had been demolished. Now, a new nest was being built. The gargantuan framing was already underway, outlining what would house about a dozen dragons. A field next to the construction held seven dragons, all obviously nest-tetchy and snapping at each other, straining against ropes. That must be where the race would begin from.
On the side of the field, many chairs and picnic blankets were installed, with around one-hundred guests milling about and chattering to each other, holding shade parasols and sipping drinks. Valeraine looked for familiar faces, almost disappointed when she couldn’t find Kesley, before remembering that he would remain hidden to preserve the fiction that he was the masked rider. She spotted Papa, and was happy to see him sitting down. The Longbourn family had been provided chairs. They were being respected as a dragon house.
Lelantos landed at the edge of the mess of dragons. One, a slim white dragon, began growling and hissing in their direction. The dragons in the field had been harnessed to large stakes in the ground to stop them from causing too much mischief. Lelantos did not need to be tied down like these unruly beasts. He was calm, collected. Well, not entirely. She saw a shiver run up his wings as he noticed the challenge of the white dragon. Valeraine put a soothing hand on his back, and murmured, “Easy there. We’ll defeat him soon.”
Some of the dragons had been muzzled as well as tied down. She saw smoke drift out of the nostrils of one of those. Despite the pang she felt at seeing the majestic beasts so restrained, she was glad for the caution of the riders. The last thing they needed was dragons getting in a fire-spitting match.
The contrast between them and Lelantos was stark. He was still, looking around curiously. Valeraine could spot a little tension in his joints, a small amount of unease at all these new rivals, but someone unfamiliar with her dragon wouldn’t notice his subtle tells. Valeraine knew, on an intellectual level, if she took Lelantos far from his nest, he would become nest-tetchy and may act out as much as these visiting dragons. It was difficult to imagine such a transformation in her solid companion. Right now, his nest was a short flight away, and he was calm and assured. She shuddered at the idea of tying him up or muzzling him. He hated being restrained, and a saddle was as far as she was willing to discomfort her friend.
Valeraine rummaged in the saddlebag for a piece of jerky. Her hands were shaking, and it was difficult to undo the clasp. She climbed off Lelantos’ back. She fed him the treat, and told him to stay put. He wouldn’t cause any trouble.
There was a bundle of riders in the center of the pandemonium, talking animatedly. She would need to hear the announcement of what route to fly.
Valeraine double checked that her mask was securely in place. It was. She was disguised. She was ready. This would be fine.
