They’d been awarded small gold medals of valor over breakfast, welded into the shape of dragon wings, and classes had been canceled so that everyone could shop and prepare for a celebration ball after dinner. A ball that had rushed up more quickly than Elara had anticipated, too quick for her to find something Langlish. Besides, no amount of sophisticated fashion would disguise the fact that Elara didn’t belong here. She’d gone in the opposite direction and drawn attention to it.
From her closet, Elara had pulled out a dress she’d been saving, a strapless black maxi that cinched at the waist and billowedaround her legs. Over that, she’d paired a beaded necklace shaped like a gorget, the beads in the green, blue, and gold of the Iryan flag—a statement none could ignore.
She heard a quiet knock seconds before she sensed Signey’s presence on the other side of the door. She crossed the room to let her in and nearly swallowed her own tongue.
Once again, Signey had pulled back her wavy hair into a tight, high ponytail that fell down her back like rippling water. She wore a midnight-blue dress, snug in all the right places, with white boning on the sides. Her feet were tucked into a pair of midnight-blue flats, and dark blue fingerless lace gloves covered her hands, the lace sewn to imitate dragon scales. Would it kill her Firstrider to try looking repulsive for once?
“You look beautiful,” Signey said with a hesitant smile. Elara realized for the first time that Signey was carrying a box in her hands. “Can I come in?”
Elara shook herself out of her appreciative stupor and stepped aside.
Almost two months at Hearthstone, and Elara hadn’t done much to make her room feel like home. Her clothes had migrated from her bags to the wardrobe, her shoes were tucked in a neat line poking out from beneath her bed, and her drake figurine perched proudly on the nightstand unless Elara was using it for astral calls. Aside from that, the room was mostly unchanged, except for the rumpled sheets that proved she’d made use of the bed, and the few personal items she’d unpacked. It wasn’t sterile, but it wasn’t cozy, either. Elara had never quite committed to the idea of staying here.
If Signey noticed, she decided not to mention it in favor of setting down her box on the nightstand. Elara realized that it wasn’twhite boning that decorated her dress. It was backless, Signey’s modesty protected by a golden spine with curved ivory ribs that framed her sides. Real dragon bone, a type of relic Elara had never seen before, making Signey look both powerful and dangerous.
Striking.
Attainable.
Elara wanted to scream.
Signey opened the box—a peach container inlaid with mother-of-pearl—to reveal several compartments full of dragon jewelry. She had sterling silver claw rings in different colors. She had more earring cuffs designed to look as if a tiny dragon were crawling over the lobe. She had a necklace that appeared to have a dragon’s-eye inlaid in gold as the pendant, and another necklace that looked like scales cascading down to one’s collarbone. All the kinds of things only a country that worshipped dragons could think of as fashion.
Even after they had twice helped her, Elara still found it a bit creepy, wearing the bones of dead animals. “Um,” she said. “I don’t—”
“It’s traditional,” Signey said, ushering Elara closer to the box with both hands on her shoulders. “And expected, for a function like this.”
The shiver that raced through Elara’s body had many sources, and she didn’t want to examine any of them. Her attraction to her co-Rider was like an itch she couldn’t scratch. Without irritation to temper it, it snuck up on Elara at the most inopportune moments, and it was at times like this that Elara worried Signey could feel it through the bond. But surely she would have said something?
Signey lifted the necklace of scales from the box and held it in her palm in front of Elara’s face. “This seems very you. And it wouldprobably go a lot better with your dress than that beaded thing. Unless, of course, you want to borrow something of mine—”
“No.” Elara slipped out from between Signey’s warm body and the nightstand, her heart beating unevenly in her chest. “This is an Iryan dress and an Iryan beaded necklace, handmade by a woman in Deadegg named Miss Elmiyra Johnson. She has nine children and still found time to give this to me for my last birthday.” Her fingers reached up to trace over the beads, which clacked rhythmically together. “Thisis me.”
Signey was still clutching the necklace as she dragged her eyes from Elara’s head to her sandals and slowly back up again. Elara felt as if her whole head had been set aflame, even more so when Signey’s gaze seemed to snag at her hips. Signey’s lips curved upward, and Elara noticed for the first time that she had painted them rose-petal pink.
“Fair enough,” she said with a smile that simply hinted at the dimple Elara had only seen once before. “The claw rings, then? Maybe you’ll get lucky, and Marius Lynwood will pick a fight.”
Elara’s laugh was a bit strangled, but Signey didn’t comment as she helped her affix a ring to each finger on her right hand. Signey’s hands were callused but gentle, the scratch of the lace against Elara’s skin making goose bumps rise everywhere they touched. She shouldn’t be feeling like this. She needed to get over this. What was wrong with her?
And yet Signey continued to hold her hand even after she was done, her head bent low so Elara couldn’t see her expression. “Can… you do me a favor?”
“I… Sure?”
“Don’t…” The words seemed to struggle free from Signey’smouth. “Don’t leave me alone with the director. Or the commander, for that matter, but especially the director. Torrey will be looking out for Jesper, but I… It would be nice if you could look out for me.”
Elara’s eyebrows knitted together. “Yes, of course. Is it because of your father?”
“Becoming a Rider was always the plan, to honor my mother and sister. But if I pass my final exam and land a government job, then I might get to see my father. If I play the patriotic soldier well enough, I might even get to request a pardon. My family could be whole again.” Signey released Elara’s hand to wrap her arms around her own stomach. She was not, Elara realized, a girl accustomed to intimacy. “But until then… Every time I see the director—I just—I remember that he’s trapped at the Mausoleum for something I know he didn’t do, and I—”
Elara pulled Signey into a hug. She resisted for so long that Elara began to let her go and apologize. But then she melted against Elara’s chest, locking her arms around Elara’s waist, and Elara pulled her trembling body closer. She had been struggling with homesickness after being away from her family for almost two months, even with daily calls to her loved ones. Signey hadn’t seen her father in over five years. Her mother and sister in even longer.
“I’ll make sure you’re never alone,” she promised, feeling Zephyra sending comfort and approval across the bond to soothe them both. “We’re a team. You and me and Zephyra.”
“You and me and Zephyra,” Signey repeated like a promise of her own. “Okay.”
The Hearthstone ballroom was lavish and crowded. Three chandeliers lit the long room, which was lined with framed portraits of white people who Elara didn’t recognize. The only furniture in the room was against one of the wood-paneled walls, a line of tables filled with finger foods and bowls of punch. The students and professors seemed to be serving themselves, as, unlike at Pearl Bay Palace, Elara could see no servants walking around with trays. In fact, the only people she saw who she didn’t recognize from one class or another were the musicians on the raised dais across from the food tables.
Near the back of the room, the doors had been thrown open to reveal a stone patio. Beyond, in the early winter darkness, Elara could see dragons huddled close to enjoy the festivities. Even though they couldn’t fit through the opening, they could hear the music, feel their Riders’ joy, and cuddle with one another on the lawn. She could sense Zephyra among them, an easy and comforting presence at the boundary of her mind, and sent her a greeting. Her dragon trilled in response.
