“Then what do you mean by savage?”
“The mating period is a very volatile time for a Dragon. They get possessive. Usually, the couple is sequestered so that the Dragons don't attack other people out of fear that they may take their mates.”
“You attack people because you get possessive over your mates?”
“We can during the settling stage, yes.” He grimaced. “But every Dragon is different.”
“I can't imagine you getting savage like that.”
The Dragon King's eyes slid toward me, and his face shifted into something I didn't recognize. I had a glimpse of the man who had won a throne through bloodshed.
Lowering my gaze, I whispered, “I suppose I don't know you that well.”
“I'm trying to rectify that.” Sighing, the King set his bowl down and pulled something from an inner pocket of his cloak.
Holding it out to the firelight, he brushed a finger over it. I leaned closer again. It was a collection of thin leather cords, bound by intricate knots. They started at one end and finished halfway down, leaving a fringed tail and space for more knots.
“I'm still searching for my mate,” the King said. “I may become savage when I claim him, but only with passion. Afterward, I'm sure I would treasure and protect him. My past speaks for me.”
The Dragon King held the knotted length out to me. I took it and held it up to examine. The knots were more like tinypieces of art, their loops twisted in fascinating ways that created patterns. An image flashed in my mind—the white ribbon Bara had tied on my wrist to enslave me. This cord was nothing like that. I could feel it. Whatever magic lay within these cords, it was good. Bara enslaved with his knots, but the Dragon King was a different man. No matter how savage he got, he wouldn't be like Bara. He couldn't be.
“The last pillar of our magic is the story-knot,” the King said. “These are my stories.”
I looked up at him in shock. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his knights staring at us. A glance their way told me they were just as shocked as I.
“Your Majesty.” I held the story-knot reverently. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
He chuckled. “You don't even know what they mean.”
“No, but I know they're important to you. Will you tell me your stories?”
“I will exchange knots with you, Eliel.”
“I don't have a story-knot.”
“But you have stories. I want to hear yours.”
I flushed and looked away. “You know my story.”
“I knowastory in the collection that is you.” He touched the knot at the top of the cords, careful not to touch me. “This is my birth. The knot was made by my parents, each taking a turn to weave their joy into my memory.” He tapped it. “I was born in a small enclave called Twin Mountains.” His finger ran along a double loop. “My mother laughed as I came into the world.”His finger swooped up into a dramatic curve in the knot. “My father cried.” The cord curled in upon itself. “The whole enclave celebrated.” The knot smoothed into a collected wave of five cords. He looked up at me. “Tell me of your birth, Eliel.”
My voice lodged in my throat like a river behind a dam. But then I closed my eyes and let the air flow through me. In my mind, I saw my home. My mother's smile. I heard my father call to me. And the story they told me came to my lips.
“The birth was hard on my mother. It was winter, and the chill made her wings ache. So, my father stoked all the fires in the house. He prayed to Lurransa and pulled a flight feather in offering. For my mother, he grew violets indoors. To brighten winter for her.” I opened my eyes and met the King's soft gaze. “He called them winter violets. Father swore the Goddess heard his prayers and not only helped my mother through my birth but also gave her an eternal violet in me. I was their winter bloom, my hair the color of her favorite flowers—rare and precious to our people.”
“Rare and precious,” the King murmured, looking down at his lap. He lifted his stare to meet mine, and something warm shone from his eyes. “Yes, indeed.”
I blushed and looked away, my gaze catching on those of the Dragon knights sprawled on camp blankets around us. They were listening too, interested in my story. How strange. It should have made me nervous, but it had the opposite effect. Because of their respectful attention, I continued to speak.
“I came into this world singing. That's what my mother said. I didn't cry like other babies. I sang, and with my song, my wings sprouted. The earliest sprout known among our people. My father said it was the mark of our Goddess, and thatLurransa gave me beauty and dominion over the sky. I think it was my father whom she favored, not me. His sacrifice is what gave me this.” I waved at my hair and wings. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“That's what parents do. They sacrifice for their children. They bring us to life and then love us for living.” The King's hands moved strangely, but I couldn't see what he did in the dark. “It is for us to honor their sacrifice and live well. We must earn their pride, and that, along with our love, is their payment.” He took his story knots from me and handed me something in exchange.
I lifted it to the firelight. It was a collection of white leather cords with a single knot at one end. A beautiful, intricate knot. I gasped. “Is this?”
“That is your story-knot, Eliel. That knot is the story of your birth.” He tapped it, taking me through each twist and turn so I could recognize them. “Winter. Your mother's struggle. Your father's sacrifice. Violets of the earth and the air. Your song emerging with you. Your wings sprouting early. Then the completion with the blessing of your Goddess.”
“Your Majesty.” My throat closed as I saw my story told with his magic. “This is the most remarkable gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you.”
