Page 11 of In the Embrace of Dragons

“I see.” She turns her head forward, any traces of amusement vanished. “Well, ask me any question you like. But only if you don’t mind answering the same question in kind.”

That’s a fair request, so I nod in agreement.

“Where did you learn to hunt?” I ask.

She hums and taps her chin. “Dad used to do these fox hunts. Very boring, just stupid lords trying to look fancy.”

“They hunt foxes?” I ask, aghast. “Foxes are not prey animals.”

The princess rolls her eyes. “Right? It’s barbaric. Anyway, I went on a few of them and learned from the hunters. Someday, I want to have a hunting dog of my own.” She sighs. “I should have gotten a puppy before I left.”

“We can still get you a hunting dog. It is not as if we don’t have dogs up north.”

Her face brightens again. “Really? I don’t know anything about Selvumrrest. Or dragonkind, really—just what’s in our history books.”

“I can help with that.” Now that we’ve agreed to get her a pet, our conversation continues easily. I tell her about my own training, how I worked my way up from a lowly soldier. I’ve not done much hunting in the past, but I have some experience with shooting a bow and throwing a spear. Once we’ve gone as far as we can on that topic, we talk about her future homeland. I try as best I can to prepare her for what’s coming.

The rest of the day passes much more quickly, and I pledge to do this again tomorrow.

VIZARIOS

It infuriates me beyond reason to see Ragnakor at the head of the caravan, talking so easily with the princess all afternoon. By the time evening rolls around and we’ve located a spot to camp for the night, they seem almost like old friends the way Nissia is smiling and laughing. Her bright-colored scarf flashes in the sun, her white teeth shining whenever she opens her mouth.

She is not as unappealing as I like to tell myself. But I dislike immensely that those smiles are for Ragnakor, and he is nodding and gesturing in return.

I bristle all over, my very scales feeling like they’re too tight for my body.Ragnakor.He was all I had when Mother died. He was the raft I clung to in the storm when I had nothing and no one. And now he’s leaving me alone at the back of the caravan to flirt with a human? My supposed wife?

I already lost the one closest to me. I’mnotgoing to lose him, too.

I am nearly breathing smoke from my nostrils as the soldiers set up camp and my footman builds my tent. When I spot Ragnakor handing over his horse to someone else, I stalk over to him.

“You,” I growl under my breath. “What are you doing?”

The captain’s heavy brows crease. “Pardon me, Your Majesty?”

“You talk to her as if you know her!” I grit my teeth. “You arenotto be all chummy with the princess. Do you understand me?”

A severe look has come over him.

“That I cannot do,” he says solemnly.

“What? Of course you can. It’s easy?—”

“I will not obey this order.” Ragnakor stands up straight,crossing his arms over his chest like a bulwark. “I will not let my new queen go unprotected.”

“She is not your queen yet!” My voice rises, and now we’re attracting attention. “When she is, I’ll... I’ll assign her her own guard. Her own guard captain, even. She’ll have a whole battalion who are notyou.”

Ragnakor says nothing to this. No, he simply studies me with his deep-set eyes, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“What are you afraid of?” he finally asks, his voice soft. I don’t like how he seems to almost be... pitying me.

“What? I am afraid of nothing! But she is not your charge. I am. We will find someone else to follow her around.”

Instead of answering, though, my captain shakes his head sadly.

“I merely want the princess to feel welcomed. If she is alone, truly alone, this will go very poorly. For both of you.”

“It isalreadygoing poorly! You have your orders.”