Page 172 of The Last Syphon

Inara was not looking forward to that meeting. They were sure to be a little mad at Inara and Prince Walder for ignoring their order not to investigate, but they could be mad later. Right now, it was more important to work together and defeat a common enemy. They could yell at her later, and as much as Inara would hate it, she would take it.

It took a few hours to reach Arelia. Much like last time, Inara followed Prince Walder and Tydus to the large empty field beside the main palace. The two powerful dragons landed opposite one another, the ground trembling and shaking. Prince Walder jumped off, using his hands to control his descent until he landed softly on both feet.

Show-off.

Fraener was kind enough to lower himself down onto his knees and then stretched out his wing for her to climb down.

“You’re going to have to teach me how to do that,” she said, jumping off his wing. Her feet slammed into the ground, dust wafting into the air. “It’s air manipulation, right?”

“Dragons are masters of the air.”

“Must you always speak in riddles? A simple yes or no would do.”

“Yes.” He waited for her to compose herself, and then indicated for her to walk ahead with a gesture of his hand. “It’s much simpler than jumping, and considering how fast you learnt that, I think you should pick it up fairly quickly.”

“A compliment from the Crowned Prince himself? My, my, my, how times have changed. I’m pretty sure you insulted me the last time we were here.”

“I do not remember it that way.”

Of course he wouldn’t.

Prince Walder raised his arm, bent at the elbow. Tydus shifted forms instantly, magic swirling all around him as his ginormous body was replaced by his much smaller one. The tiny dragon shot forward and landed on the prince’s forearm. He scurried up to sit on his shoulder.

Magic thrummed in her chest, and Fraener shrank, shifting into his miniature form as well. Unlike sitting on her shoulder though, the little terror decided the top of her head would be far more comfortable.

“Ow! Hey, Fraener, my hair! Fates, shit—ow!”

The dragon simply squawked, flaring out his wings, his tiny talons digging into her fucking scalp.

“You are unbelievable!” she hissed, but didn’t fight him, readjusting her stance with an annoyed huff.

Prince Walder’s lips pinched together tightly.

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh,” she warned.

His hands were up in surrender. “I would never.”

“Yes, you bloody would.”

Tydus sat comfortably on his shoulder, spine straight, wings tucked behind him, reminding Inara of a soldier with their hands behind their back.

“Why is yours so well behaved, and mine—ow!” Fraener circled a few times, his talons pulling at her hair before plopping down, almost curling himself up into a ball. “And mine acts like an overactive youthen?” she ended with a huff.

Prince Walder led the way up the steps leading into the palace. The two men standing guard bowed as he walked past. Once inside, he turned left, marching down one of the many hallways that would lead to the main throne room. He was confident the High Council would be there, as they were most days.

“It is theorised that Guardians select their Chosen’s based on a variety of traits—traits they themselves possess,” he began, never losing stride. “Strength. Power. Morality. Temperament.” He cast her a sidelong glance. “Personality.”

Wait a minute.

She stopped. “He picked me because we’re alike?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I act like him?”

“I didn’t say that.” The prince paused before the tall, double door of the throne room. “But the similarities have not gone unnoticed,” he finished, smirking.

Inara scowled. “Aren’t you funny,” she droned.

He laughed, and it was such a rich sound. Like warmth and light. Prince Walder didn’t laugh often, and because of that, it made every time he did laugh that much more special. She liked it when he laughed, even if it was at her expense.

At his nod, the guards stationed outside the throne room opened the door.