Hektor answered them easily, instinct taking over, posture shifting into something familiar and assured. Zara stayed at his side as he introduced her to each of them in turn, and he watched their expressions soften, charmed by her almost immediately.
After the fifth interruption, she leaned in and murmured, “Why are they acting like they haven’t seen you in a while?”
“Because they haven’t.”
She frowned. “But you’ve been back.”
“I have. When I came back before, it was for business. Meetings. Accounts. If I saw anyone, it was my parents, and then I left again. I didn’t…socialize.”
“So you’ve basically been ghosting your entire species.”
He snorted. “When you put it like that.”
“Impressive,” she grinned. “Introverted dragon energy.”
“Drakkon,” he corrected automatically.
“Even worse.”
“You’re not wrong, though,” he shook his head. “I kept my head down. Easier that way.”
She squeezed his hand. “Well. Joke’s on you. Now you’re parading around with a halfling who asks too many questions.”
“Everyone already noticed,” he said dryly.
“Good,” she replied. “I’d hate to be subtle.”
Another Drakkon approached, younger, eyes bright with excitement at seeing him. Hektor greeted him, exchanged a few words, and when they moved on again, Zara bumped her shoulder lightly against his.
“See? You survived social interaction.”
“Barely.”
The crowd began to shift as participants were called forward, and the ground seemed to vibrate with anticipation. Hektor felt the weight of it settle into his bones, old and familiar.
The race began with a low, vibrating horn that seemed to ripple through the stands. He watched Zara lean forward, eyes wide, utterly captivated as the chariots surged onto the track. The Drakkons ran in teams, massive and powerful, muscles flexing beneath scaled skin as they pulled the ornate chariots behind them. Gold and obsidian gleamed in the sunlight, banners snapping in the wind.
“Oh, my gods,” she breathed. “They’re incredible.”
Hektor stayed close, one hand resting at the small of her back as he explained how the lanes were chosen, how the chariots were balanced to test strength without harming the runners, how endurance mattered just as much as speed.
“That one’s overextending,” he murmured as a pair surged ahead too early. “They’ll burn out before the final turn.”
She glanced at him, impressed. “You sound like you’ve watched this your whole life.”
“I have. And raced it.”
Her head snapped back to him. “You did not just casually drop that.”
He smiled, just a little.
When the first heat ended, the crowd erupted in applause. The energy was electric, loud, and alive in a way as they moved toward the VIP box for drinks, slipping through guarded doors and into the shaded space overlooking the track. Hektor took two steps in?—
And stopped short.
Nyxion stood near the railing, one arm protectively around a woman who was very, very pregnant. She was glowing in that unmistakable way as she laughed at something someone had said.
Eleonora.
