Page 81 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
In the air, it wasn’t easy to talk. But if Kesley leaned forward and put his mouth next to Valeraine’s ear, she could hear him over the wind.
“Are you sure you want to race?” he asked her.
“Of course I have to race.” This was her last chance to stop Longbourn from dying. Just because it might be a painless death to the farmers didn’t mean the house wasn’t worth fighting for. She would show everyone that age in a dragon did not mean they were done being useful, or powerful.
“Because I’ve been thinking,” Kesley continued, “that it would be better for me to race, instead.”
“You?” Valeraine gasped it, unable to really provide the sound and force that the question needed.
“This derby is bigger than any you’ve raced in before. There’s more chances for you to be recognized as a woman. Doubly so if you do well. I’ve heard the race officials keep a sharp eye out for cheating. I’m not sure if they’ll even let you ride in a mask.”
“Lelantos flies for me.”
“He’s become a competent racer, thanks to you, but I’ve been training with him too. He knows me; he’ll fly for me.”
There was some logic to what Kesley said. If she won, could she even claim her prize while masked? And it wasn’t as ifshewas the one with wings. Would it make any difference to Lelantos who was on his back? It all seemed so tenuous from that perspective.
But this was her race. She wanted to feel the thrill of the Royal derby, of her bond with Lelantos true and strong. Kesley didn’t have that. He had the opposite of a bond with Lelantos. Kesley might pretend the dragon would fly just as well for him — and he was right that Lelantos had never been more friendly toward him than after their winter of training — but they both knew he would fly better for Valeraine.
“I knew you would see reason. This way, Sidton house can share in the glory, too,” Kesley said.
“No. I’ll race.”
“If you’re discovered, you’ll ruin Alyce’s engagement. There’s no way Netherfield would ally themselves with Longbourn.”
“If I win this derby, Longbourn’s reputation will be strengthened, and grow for decades as we tame our new dragon,” she said.
“Val, be sensible, you —”
“If I don’t race, I’ll never forgive myself.” Valeraine knew she was not being entirely reasonable, but it was the truth. If she gave up here, at the precipice of her final goal, the moment before her hardest hurdle, who was she? What had she been working for, if not for this? If she didn’t race today, all that was left of her were the parts that never truly cared about anything, and those parts hardly seemed to matter.
Valeraine would fly. She would win. She would come home with money, a dragon egg, having proven Longbourn house was reputable and she was a capable dragoneer.
Kesley gave her a kiss on her cheek, and then on her lips as she turned her head to him. “For luck,” he gave as benediction.
Chapter fifty-five
The Longbourns had attended the Royal derby before, always as spectators. It was the event of the year, a gathering of all the dragon houses to one exhibition. Fields were set aside for the watchers to sit and picnic on. Thousands of people would come to watch — most of them from dragon houses, but some affluent commoners would also pay the entry fee. Valeraine had memories of the trouble to find a spot to lay their blankets, battling through the crowd.
The field set aside for dragons was much worse. Valeraine and Kesley landed in a small space that had just enough room for a single dragon. The whole area was teeming with over two hundred dragons — maybe three hundred — and all of them were nest-tetchy and ready to fight. They snapped and snarled at each other, and the whole pandemonium was a fire or a mauling waiting to happen.
Valeraine wistfully remembered the Pemberley derby, with its plentiful space and outlined rules.
Kesley went to check in with the race officials while Valeraine held Lelantos’ reins, praying there wouldn’t be any trouble. The noise was raucous. Dragons snarled, hissed, and roared at each other. Dragoneers yelled: taunts, warnings, threats, and imploring to “Get that dragon under control!” This wasn’t just a pot ready to boil, it was one that was already boiling and was moments from bubbling over.
Every year, there were a few deaths reported from the Royal derby. Valeraine realized some of them must come from before the race even started, or after it finished. The danger was not just in the air, it was all around her.
Kesley finally came back, pushing through the crowd. He was carrying a long paper with a number on it — his registration — and tied it to Lelantos’ harness. “We’re ready. The derby starts in under an hour. They demanded the name of the rider, so I wrote my own. Lelantos of Longbourn house is ready to ride.” He flashed her an energetic smile, the one that said everything was in hand and proceeding as well as could be. He was energized by the challenge.
Valeraine opened the saddle bag, looking for the masked rider costume.
It wasn’t there.
Maybe Kesley had already taken it out. “Where’s my costume?” she asked.
Kesley shrugged. “Selaide must still have it.”
“Selaide?” Valeraine was aghast, horrified, flummoxed, incensed. “What possessed you to give it toSelaide?”
