They both watch me, waiting.
“I need to know that if we actually succeed, you won’t kill all of my people in revenge…” I say softly.
Daegan looks offended, and so does Raef. “Despite what you may think, we’re not murderous monsters.”
I raise an eyebrow at Daegan.
He clears his throat and glances down. “I apologize for the side of me you’ve seen. I’ve been acting out of desperation, and a bit of anger.”
I wait for him to continue, as it seems like there’s a story hanging from his lips, waiting to be spoken.
He locks eyes with me. “My people are dying.”
My mouth parts, and I look at him with confusion. “I hadn’t heard of any reports…”
“Well you wouldn’t, would you? I’d wager you don’t know much about the mysterious dragons from the south. We keep to ourselves for a reason.”
Raef’s face falls. It’s a rare sight to see, his face without a smile painting it.
“How?”
Raef opens his mouth, but Daegan shoots him a glare that silences him.
I don’t argue. I’ve heard enough. But Raef pushes.
“Trust, remember?” he says to his friend. Daegan releases a sigh, his jaw muscle ticking. His side profile is quite beautiful, with his thin nose that has a straight slope, his full, pink lips, and his brown waves framing his face.
I flick my gaze to Raef, who focuses his red eyes back on mine. “We don’t know how. But our lifespans are shortening at an alarming rate, and our birth rates have dropped significantly. And not by choice.”
“How could that be? That’s terrible… I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
Raef shakes his head. “It has to do with the curse. That’s the only thing we can come up with. Daegan’s barely slept in years, trying to find a way to save our people.”
“You help too,” Daegan grumbles. “Don’t act like I’m the only one.”
Raef shakes his head. “He’s relentless. He’s been trying to find a way into your castle for years. When your father finally accepted, it was like we had hope again.”
“And then I thought some nosy elf heard part of my plans, and it was all over before it started. I was madder at myself than anything, for being stupid enough to openly talk about it in enemy territory. Hence, the threatening.” He clears his throat as he watches his finger trail the edge of his flagon.
I nod, my eyes wide with interest in their story. I’m not even mad about it anymore. I don’t blame him. I mean, he was reckless when he spoke those words out loud in the heart of his enemy, even if he thought he was safe in a room alone. He’s desperate to help his people, and he didn’t know me at all. I could have ruined everything for him.
“Again,” he says softly, and then he locks eyes with me. And suddenly I understand why his dark blue eyes are always swimming with anger and the weight of the world. “I’m sorry. And we won’t slaughter all your people.”
“I forgive you.”
He gives a curt nod, and then we raise our drinks again. “Allies?” I offer.
“Allies,” they say in unison, and the sound of our wooden flagons banging together feels like it just sealed our fate, marking the beginning of a harrowing journey ahead.
We drink some more and watch the patrons of the inn, tossing around meaningless chatter, when the innkeeper finally brings our two slices of pie.
“Sorry about that, folks. But good news, it’s a fresh batch right out of the oven. You’re in for a treat.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re in no rush.”
The steaming, golden, flaky pie slices with gooey pink centers are placed on the table in front of us, and my eyes widen.
“It smells so good,” he moans.
