“That’s…” Zander shook his head. “That’s unheard of.”
“I know he’s a small dragon,” I said, my voice quieting. “But he’s kind to me. He actually flirts.” A sad laugh escaped my lips. “I wish…”
Zander’s hand tightened slightly on my arm. “Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice was low, but composed.
I looked down at our hands. “Siergen shouldn’t have told me that, should he?”
“No,” Zander said, tone clipped. “He’s more than just a Courier, Ashe.”
“I know.” I swallowed. “He told me he helps supply the Hatchling Isle.”
Zander nodded. “That, and other things. He’s more involved in the safety of the continent than anyone realizes. He may not have a title, but he’s trusted by every High Council. Every kingdom. He moves freely across borders… advises us on threats we can’t see coming.”
“I figured as much,” I said softly. “He felt… far away the last time we spoke.”
Zander’s expression darkened slightly. “If he’s gone quiet, he’s likely working on something dangerous.”
A cold prickle danced down my spine.
I needed a distraction, anything to steer away from the ache in my chest, the weight of Hein’s intentions, of Siergen’s absence, of Kaelith’s silence. My gaze drifted to the folded parchment Zander had dropped earlier. I nodded toward it.
“Are you going to open that?”
He hesitated, scanning my face like he could read the desperation I didn’t bother to hide. Then he rolled over, picked up the sealed message, and cracked the wax open with a flick of his thumb. The firelight caught on the edge of the paper as he read, and I saw his jaw harden.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice already tight.
Zander’s eyes didn’t leave the page. “It’s a formal request.” A beat passed. “For a duel.”
My stomach flipped. “Someone wants to fightyou?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Not me,” he said. “You.”
The air left my lungs.
“What?Who?”
Zander lowered the letter, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Perin. And I have no legal right to deny him.”
I blinked at him, the name hitting like ice water across my spine. “Perinchallenged me?”
“All riders have the right,” Zander said, his voice measured. “Dueling isn’t just about strength. It’s ceremony. Tradition. Dragons test their reflexes. Their synergy with their riders. They welcome it.”
I sat up fully, the sheets slipping from my shoulders. “So Coldrath wants to go up against Kaelith?”
“That’s the surprising part,” Zander muttered, brow furrowing. “Coldrath is a red Swordtail. He’s fast, agile… but no match for Kaelith’s wingspan. The odds aren’t even close.”
“Then why invite that kind of humiliation?” I whispered.
Zander stared at me, his expression grim.
“Because he knows you aren’t anchored.”
The words landed like a blade.
“If he called for the duel,” Zander continued, “it means Coldrathchosehim. He’s anchored now. Which meansyou’rethe weakness, not Kaelith.”
