Page 33 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

I put aside my façade and spoke to her as I would to any woman I liked.

“I’m very sorry that you’ve been treated poorly. I’m not sure if it’s a comfort, but I gather that it’s quite normal for the Fyrehold ladies to be… somewhat exclusive with their attentions.”

She gave a pretty, one-shouldered shrug, but picked up her fork again. “I am known to the Court. They appear to like you. They speak to each other of you and the General quite a lot,” she said sadly.

I snorted, which made her brows shoot up. “They like the General,” I corrected. “They tolerate me because I’m with him, and because I can answer their questions about him—and the dragons,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Oh… do you prefer not to talk of the dragons?” she said kindly, though I saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“No, no. I only mean that’s the reason they talk of me… well, I think Lady Faye likes me, but again, I’m certain that’s because I helped her impress everyone with the dragons by not telling the others how much she lies about her experience with them.”

Grace’s lips twitched as if she’d laugh and she ducked her head, taking another bite of her breakfast before responding.

“The dragons are fascinating,” she said wistfully. “If you are free for tea one afternoon over the Festival days, I would greatly enjoy it if you would join me in the library and tell me of your adventures. I’ve always dreamed of flying on a dragon.”

It was my turn to be surprised. “You have?!”

She nodded. “I learned to ride horses when I was very young, and I love to hunt and jump them. It feels a little bit as I imagine flying must feel. Then, a few years ago I read a book about a Princess who was saved by a dragon after she was kidnapped by dastardly men and… my heart was lost to the beasts from that day forward. I have always wished… well, it would never be. But suffice it to say, I envy you a great deal,” she said, her kind tone belying the words.

And so, over the following hour, a good long time after we’d both eaten our last bites of breakfast, I made my first friend in Fyrehold. At least, I hoped she could be a friend. Who knew with these people? But her self-consciousness and pleas of loneliness seemed too unaffected to be fake.

I prayed she’d prove true.

By the time she was called away by a messenger with a summons to another estate, we’d agreed to meet at the Festival, and I had promised to try and describe how it felt to fly.

She asked me to look for her during the ball and I assured her, I would. I felt sorry for her when she quietly admitted that would give her something to look forward to. That she despised balls because only old men requested her for dances.

When I later reported to Donavyn at the stables—because we were flying the dragons every morning, never quite in range of Hanson’s land, but in the general direction looking for more dragon herds—I was able to tell him I’d found a potential ally, and that he should be kind to her at the ball.

“You should ask her to dance. She says only the old men do. Though I can’t imagine why—she’s very pretty and sweet. Maybe she’s a bad dancer? But you’re big enough that she won’t hurt you if she stands on your foot.”

Donavyn snorted and gave me a sidelong grin and my stomach fluttered for the first time since I’d seen Ruin.

I blinked.

Donavyn frowned. “What is it? Are you—”

“I’m well. I… I want you,” I said, shocked.

Donavyn’s brows rose. “That’s… a good thing I hope?”

I nodded.

‘Bren, I understand you need time. I won’t push you. You don’t need to be afraid—’

‘No, no. I just… I hadn’t felt…’

‘I know. The bond, remember?’

I looked down at the harness in my hands as we walked through the dark, overly-clean stable building, to the outdoor area where the dragons were lounging in the morning sun.

‘I’m sorry,’ I sent, feeling suddenly fragile, which pissed me off. I’d been enjoying this morning and not thinking about Ruin at all since I met Grace, which was a relief.

‘Don’t be,’ he sent back, letting his steps bring him closer so that our arms brushed as we walked. ‘I know you’ll come back to me.’

I stopped walking. Donavyn took one more step, but pulled up, turning, a look of concern and confusion on his face.

“I haven’t left you. Ever,” I blurted. “If you feel that way, I’m sorry, I never—”