Page 22 of In the Embrace of Dragons

“You look like you need a fight,” he says, spinning thewooden sword in one hand. He squares up across from me, though his limbs all appear loose and easy.

“I could use some exercise.” I pad into the arena across from him, doing no such fancy maneuvers. I am a simple dragon in some ways.

Tralazan lunges first, with an attack that looks straightforward enough, and is even more straightforward to parry. Again he comes for me, and again I parry, easily meeting him stroke for stroke.

But he’s not trying to get in through my defenses. He’s testing me out, getting a feel for my mood, figuring out if he can lure me into making a mistake. I did not reach my position by showing my cards, though, or by giving in to my emotions. The king is a frustrating dragon, but I don’t let it affect how I move, how I fight, or how I do my job.

The moment Tralazan reveals his right side to me on his next lunge, I slide my sword through his defenses and tap him on his exposed flank. He freezes.

“That was fast,” he says with a snort. We return to our starting positions. “I should know better by now than to underestimate you.”

I grunt in acknowledgment. Now I’m focused on the fight, on my opponent, on everything except Vizarios and his new queen. I size up Tralazan, and this time, I strike first. He easily parries, and we lock into a battle that is much more even. He won’t let me squeak through twice in the same place.

After a good long session, we are both sweating. Tralazan slaps me on the shoulder when we set down our swords.

“What has you all worked up today, Ragnakor?” he asks as we towel off. “You fought well, but with a tad more ferocity than usual.”

He brings out some fresh water when I don’t answer right away and puts it in my hands.

“It is simply that the transition brings complexity with it.” I take a long sip. “And I am learning how to navigate it.”

Then my eyes fall to the wooden swords on the wall. Perhaps there is more than one way I can use the training yard to achieve my goals. I did make a promise to Nissia, once upon a time.

“Tralazan.” I pick up one of the smaller swords. “Will you have another one made in a smaller size? More like a dagger.”

He cocks his head. “Why?”

“The queen is an amateur sword fighter. I would like to teach her more, but she’ll need a weapon in the appropriate size.”

Tralazan gawks at me. “Really? The new human queen?”

“I think she would enjoy it, and it will achieve other ends for me.”

I know exactly what to do next. Vizarios may not understand what it is that he wants, not on the surface, but deep down... there was a reason he released his glands while he was on top of her. I need to encourage that seed to grow and then nurture it.

“Hmm.” Tralazan hangs up our swords. “Then I will have one built for her.”

I nod agreeably and thank him for his time and energy.

Now that I know what to do, I stride back to my rooms to clean off and change quickly before the dinner tonight.

VIZARIOS

The banquet hall is loud when I arrive, but as soon as my footman announces me, everyone inside falls quiet. I enter in my long robe, the train sliding along the floor behind me, with Ragnakor in tow. He has behaved as if nothing at alloccurred between us earlier, which really is his strength. He can school away any emotion, any weakness, behind that heavy brow.

I pause in the doorway. I’m supposed to be presenting my new queen. Turning around to ask one of the many servants where she is, she appears around the corner.

Queen Nissia is dressed in a flowing blue robe, dark blue like the trim on my own clothing, as she described. The hollows above her eyelids are tinted a familiar teal, the same as my scales, and her lashes look longer than ever.

So strange, all the places that humans have hair, but I have to admit that I rather like eyelashes. They shield her dark eyes, as if protecting them from the outside world. I remember how they sat low over her eyes as I fucked her, as I slid in and out of her perfect body, as she moaned and cried underneath me?—

I grunt as I extend an arm to her, as I am supposed to do if we’re to present a unified front. She slides her hand neatly around it, and it’s even smaller than I remember it being when she was gripping me with fingers like claws.

I have to stop thinking about that.

We march into the banquet hall together and head toward our seats. The wardens all rise to their feet and hit the floor with their tails. Nissia jumps at the sound, and I wonder if she’ll have to stomp a foot instead.

Blasted human with no tail.