Page 32 of Fated Flames: Volume Two
“What is it?” I ask as I roll my neck from side to side. Transformations tend to make the neck stiff. The human one, at least.
“Lady Tilanthia wishes to speak with you,” Rally says.
I knew she would. I ordered both her and Serah to remain at the palace, yet Serah is here, and my sister is not. It was only a matter of time before Tilly demanded I correct that.
“She says she has a surprise,” he adds.
We share a grimace. Tilly’s last surprise was a new wardrobe for her summer season in Ilanthren, and all three of us had been subjected to a modeling of every gown and matching muff.
I sigh. If I do not consent now, she may cry, and I do not like tears. But I also fully intended to enjoy my evening with the princess alone.
Perhaps if I allow Tilly to come now, I can send her back to the palace before the night is too far along.
“Have her brought,” I say, rubbing at my brow. With another sigh, I stand. “Tell the next challenger I’m ready.”
The quicker I finish, the quicker I can return to my princess.
###
My final challenger of the day is flagging fast. While he’s obviously the most experienced, he is the oldest I’ve faced, and the day has been hot and long for him.
Jolloph is his name, and I don’t need to be told it. I’d recognize his scale anywhere. He was once a royal guard and relinquished his post several years ago to become a bookseller.
This challenger did not come to win a crown.
The setting sun glints off his worn-down teeth and sun-bleached scale as I circle him. He’s panting by now, but he holds his position, rotating with me to conserve strength rather than circling himself. To my surprise, he’s dodged my strikes, and though I’ve fought all day and have no real interest in wounding him, I’m still impressed.
Now, however, Jolloph’s strength is spent. I snap at one of his legs, and when he stumbles back, his face contorting with pain as a different leg gives beneath him, I hesitate.
In that brief instant of pity, he strikes.
Eyes sharpening, he launches to his feet, his teeth flashing out to graze my own leg, and I’m forced to spring back.
The crowd gasps at this. It’s the first time they’ve seen me wounded.
Well, well.
I let out a dragon’s warbling laugh at the sight of the jagged gash, and to my delight, Jolloph’s face brightens with pride.
I make quick work of the rest, ending the fight traditionally by flipping him onto his back and seizing his throat. Despite my wish to hurry this along, it was the best fight I’ve had in some time.
Jolloph transforms where he is, flat on his back, and as our wingmates arrive to block us from view, I hold a hand out to him and lift him to his feet.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he says through a tired smile. “It was an honor to fight you.”
I incline my head. “As it was for me. Come to the training grounds when you please, and we will spar again.”
Jolloph’s eyes swell with emotion. “You heap too much honor on these old wings, Your Majesty. I’m afraid this fight with you is my last.”
Understanding passes between us as he tries to still his quivering limbs. His human body has become too fragile for transformations. He must choose now between man or dragon, and he has chosen man.
“Then come to the training grounds anyway,” I say, reaching out to grip his forearm in a warrior’s clasp. “Our young guards could use experience like yours.”
He returns the gesture, clamps his mouth tight, and nods.
A girl’s laugh rings out behind me, the sound accompanied by many feet sweeping over the sand. Tilly has come, and she’s chattering away to her companions. Releasing Jolloph, I tighten my robe and turn to face her.
I’m nearly knocked to the ground as a woman—who is not my sister and is certainly not my princess—flings herself into my arms.
