“And now, the report from the Dragon Camp.” The room turns toward us.
Rosomon rises from her chair, and Zogar brushes her hand as she leaves us to approach the table. Zogar insisted that the spokesperson for the Dragon Riders should be a rider, not a dragon, and I insisted that it should be Rosomon, not me or Treacher.
Much of what’s happened at camp these past moon cycles has been based on her ideas and initiatives, so it’s only right that she be the one to speak for us all.
“I’m happy to report that, as of this week,” she says strongly, “every one of the dragon shifters has been freed.”
The room applauds.
“We’ve recruited forty-three women to train as riders, and thirteen have successfully mounted a dragon. Eleven of the original riders remain at camp, both to ride and to help with the training.”
“Are you saying that some dragons still accept male riders?” the representative from Verax asks.
“Yes,” Rosomon answers. “Some dragon-shifters formed strong alliances with the men who ride them. Especially once they were able to talk woman-to-man, in their human forms.”
Rosomon’s understating this.
It’s rumored that romantic relationships have developed between some of the dragon and rider pairings. Even Ersot and Treacher seem to have a tumultuous but sexually charged relationship. But Treacher denied it when I brought it up.
Rosomon continues to report on the progress of her new dragon-rider school, and I couldn’t be prouder.
CHAPTER 72
Rosomon
Alfryd drops his regal posture and slumps in his chair. “I don’t remember our mother at all.”
“She loved you so much.” I lean over and rub his shoulder.
In fact, even Nurse thought our mother spent too much time with him, saying he’d never develop into a proper heir if he was coddled.
Starved for our mother’s attention, I used to sit at her feet while she cuddled and played with Alfryd. I’m quite certain she didn’t spend as much time with me when I was a babe. All my memories of that kind are of Nurse.
Since the Reformation Committee meeting ended, Alfryd and I have been talking about our home and reminiscing about our childhoods, and while many of our memories match, I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked that he remembers some things differently—or not at all.
I’m so proud of how well my brother has adapted to leadership. In the past months, he seems to have matured five years.
Zogar approaches from behind me. Alfryd shifts in his chair and straightens his posture. He may have matured, but he’s still not fully comfortable around my powerful husband.
Zogar’s hand is warm and heavy on my shoulder. “My love, I don’t want to rush you, but when you are ready, the three of us have planned a surprise.”
“A surprise?” My entire body starts to tingle. I have no idea what this surprise might be, but I’m overjoyed at how well all three of them continue to surprise me every day. And how my love for them continues to grow, and how they’ve all clearly grown to care for each other as well.
Alfryd stands. “I won’t keep you from your—” he cuts himself off. He also isn’t comfortable with me having three loves in my life, and he lacks the words to describe my situation.
To me, our family unit is perfect, even if I’ve heard whispers that others have openly questioned why Zogar is willing to accept it. But those whispers are quickly shut down.
Most live in fear of my husband, even though I know he wouldn’t harm anyone—not without good cause—and his thirst for vengeance was tamed when Vanora was imprisoned for life. I’m told she’s aging rapidly, and her ability to access the Darkness has all but disappeared, now she has no access to Grymper’s blood.
Grymper’s wife and children were finally located in a secluded dungeon, and they’ve settled in a small cottage in Catha. They may be the last known manticores, but at least they are safe and happy now they’re together. And away from the Darkness, they are no longer hunted.
Zogar drapes his arm around my waist as we approach Saxon and Tynan—the former looking uncharacteristically nervous, and the latter looking characteristically mischievous. My excitement builds.
“Where’s my surprise?” I ask.
Saxon and Tynan each lean in to give me a chaste kiss in greeting.
“If we told you—” Saxon rakes back his luscious mane of hair “—it would no longer qualify as a surprise.”
