Page 83 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
Valeraine looked back at her younger sister, standing amidst a mess of overturned bags.
“Sorry,” Selaide said.
Valeraine had nothing to say to her now. It was time to race. She had minutes to get to her dragon.
After donning the costume, as Valeraine ran back to the dragoneers’ field, she grew more comfortable with the idea of Kesley. Comfortable was not the right word. She was growing accustomed to the idea, starting to actually believe Kesley was stealing the derby from her.
What had hammered home this fact was that her leathers — the harnesses and protections that they offered — were not in the costume bag where Valeraine had stored them. Someone must have taken them out before giving the bag to Selaide. There was only one person it could be.
It was Kesley. He had planned this.
He had betrayed her.
Heknewhe didn’t stand as good a chance as her in the derby. He had even asked, and she had said no. The snake. When he had pretended to ask to ride, his treachery had already been executed. He had never cared about her safety — he had just been trying to assuage his guilt on the matter. Asking her to go along with his coup so it would be bloodless.
Valeraine ran, frantically, panting, legs burning, to the dragoneers’ field. Her mask made little thumps against her face as she moved.
She had to be there before liftoff. She had to be the one who flew.
This was Longbourn’s chance at a dragon egg, and they would never have a better chance than Valeraine and Lelantos, seizing the sky together.
Chapter fifty-six
Valeraine ran to Lelantos, still where she had left him. Her mask blocked some of her peripheral vision, but she didn’t mind that now. She only had one objective: to get to her dragon.
Kesley was in the saddle, ready to race. He was wearingherflying leathers. He was already tethered to the saddle with a thin rope line. Her friend — her almost-fiance — the man who had tricked her — was in her spot.
With the ease of long practice (and grateful to not be wearing skirts at the moment), she scrambled up the harnesses and lines to reach the saddle behind Kesley.
He turned in his saddle to look at her, and was cocky, as always. “Val, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle this one for you.”
“Get out of my saddle.”
His expression lost a single scale of confidence, but he didn’t back down. “You better dismount. The derby will start any second, and I don’t want to delay our takeoff to help you down.”
Our takeoff.His. And Lelantos’. As if it was a forgone conclusion.
“Get out of my saddle, you cretin,” she snarled, her fury building from her toes to her hair, reverberating from her to Lelantos, his nest-tetchiness fueling her and back again.
The neighboring riders and roadies on the ground all turned, happy to have a spectacle.
The horn blew. It was faint at first, but then other horns placed throughout the field took it up, so they could all hear.
The Royal derby had begun.
The dragons furled their wings to start the race. The snarls and hissing crescendoed, as the dragons began to square off in the air. Lelantos opened his wings, circling them slowly, but stayed on the ground, waiting for her command.
“Leave!” Kesley shouted. He turned further in his seat, his arms outstretched to shove her.
Valeraine saw the knife, handily sheathed at the waist of the flying leathers he wore, and grabbed it. She sliced through his tether line with an instant pop, fast with the force of her fury and the sharpness of the blade.
Kesley was already leaning to the side to grab her, so it was a simple matter for Lelantos to buck and send him sliding, hitting the ground with a satisfying yelp.
Lelantos had been wise to dislike Kesley from the start.
Valeraine sat herself in the saddle, and said, “Fly!”
Lelantos exploded into the air.
