Marek doesn’t answer.
The prince wears his legend like a mantle. Yet twelve years ago, Marek was a young teenager riding out to face a dragon. Reckless, alone. He didn’t know he would tame the dragon when he rode out.
Afterwards, when the Dire king arrived in the foothills, did the Helra boy have any say in his adoption?
Ostomar and the Porcelain Guild aren’t as different as Sei thought when he arrived. The guild may have been a darker place than Sei believed while growing up. But at least in the guild, all the rules were spoken out loud. Sei never had to guess.
“You’re also right,” Sei says quietly. “In other ways, being a grail is completely different from being dragonbound. This has always been my path. Even if my parents kept me, I would still be a grail. I will always be a grail.”
Marek reaches out. “This is important to you?”
Sei takes Marek’s hand. So much larger than his own—but Sei doesn’t feel weak in comparison. “If you take too much, I’ll tell you to stop. Can you trust me to be what I was born to be?”
“We can try.” Marek tugs Sei closer. “Not because of who or what we are. Not because of my father’s treaty.” He lifts Sei’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “We can try because you’re asking me.”
Warmth spreads through Sei’s veins. Instead of Marek pulling grail magic, Sei pulls happiness from Marek, right into his heart.
?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Marek
Marek is getting used to riding with a passenger, at least when the passenger is Sei. The sky has been Marek’s true home since the first time Loska took him up, and usually Marek resents intrusion. Passengers involve so many little annoyances—adjusting his position during launch and landing. Remembering to signal Loska’s sudden movements. Avoiding the fun loops and spirals.
But with Sei, none of those are annoyances. Every tiny adjustment is a reminder that Marek’s claim is right here, warm against his chest, safe between his arms.
Marek would rather think about this journey than their destination. The notion of marrying Sei is even stranger now that Marek wants it. He can’t dismiss the event as a political inconvenience anymore. Now that Marek actually wants Sei?
Their relationship is too new. Too fragile.
Sei has been quiet too, so Marek asks over the wind, “What are you thinking about?”
Sei’s gloved hand flexes in the straps. “I’m just worried about Osric.”
Transporting fellcats on dragonback is complicated. Marek could have figured out a workable harness, but Osric flatly refused.
If fellcats were meant to fly, we would have wings,he had said.
So, Osric departed with the caravan taking servants, guards, and Radovan Ark to Talorna by ground. By the time Marek and Sei fly up after the wedding, the caravan will already be there.
“Osric will be fine,” Marek says. “The wilderness is dangerous, but I trust the caravan master. They have more than enough defensive mages.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Sei sighs. “What if Radovan or someone annoys Osric, and he eats them?”
For a moment, the only noises are Loska’s wingbeats. Loska doesn’t say anything, but Marek feels the dragon’s amusement and interest in the concept of eating people.
Marek hopes Loska doesn’t get any ideas. “Is that a problem? You told me Osric didn’t eat people, and I thought fellcats were tame.”
“They’re not tame,” Sei corrects. “They’re civilized.”
Right. And civilization has worked so well for humans.
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Marek says. “Besides, as long as Osric only partly eats Radovan, the blood healers will be able to put him back together.”
“Thank you. That’s reassuring.”
The wind cools around them. Barely perceptible, but Marek has been waiting for the change the entire flight. A small storm builds to the south, and it will break over them soon. Usually, Marek and Loska would fly over the storm or skirt around it. Marek has a different idea today.
