Page 61 of The Dragon Queen

“So you finally made it,” a rider said, forced to grip our table for support. “And you brought your own pretty?” I’m not sure how clearly he saw me, the man’s eyes hazy with drink. “That lad is fair as?—”

“The lad is mine,” Flynn growled as his arm went around me.

He shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to pull away. That heavy weight, the warmth of him, the hard plane of his chest, I craved it like the other riders did drink. My face pressed itself into the hollow of his shoulder, as if I was shy, not drinking in his scent in big gulps.

The rider’s brows drew down, but Draven came to stand beside him, waiting for the rider to recognise him. The man’s eyes went wide as he looked the king up and down with comical slowness.

“Highness… I mean, Majesty, I?—”

“Just Draven for tonight,” he replied with a tight smile, thenthrust a pouch of coins into his hands. “And these are for you to find your own pretty companion.”

The rider seemed to finally sense he was being dismissed, so he sketched a sloppy salute before staggering away.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Soren said with a sigh. “And some food to line our stomachs.”

I’d stay right where I was, apparently. Draven slid into the booth beside me, pinning me between Flynn and him, and an animal part of me couldn’t have been more happy.

Then there was the other part.

Ged sat down opposite me, but it was Brom who caught my attention. Sometimes it felt like he wore a mask, one he could never take off. Wing commander, Lord Emberly’s son, loyal friend to the king, but they were all just roles. I wanted to push past them, get to the core of him.

And what was stopping me?

We were in a corner of the pub, far from the mad throng. The noise of the place would drown out any conversation we had, yet as I leaned forward to do just that, Flynn’s hand sliding over my shoulder blades, Soren returned.

“Here you go.” Tankards were handed out, one hesitantly pushed my way. “I can get you a wine, if that’s what you prefer, Pippin?”

“Would a lad in a pub drink glasses of wine?” I asked as I pulled my tankard closer.

“Not unless he wanted to get mocked mercilessly…” Ged muttered, then took a drink of his and winked at me. “But we’ll protect you from any bastard that tries.”

“Pippin—” Soren started to say, but the crowd seemed to realise who’d joined us.

“The king himself has come to drink with his riders!” one man in uniform shouted as he got to his feet.

The band laid down their instruments as everyone rose. My men looked around and then did the same, forcing me to follow them. I caught the fine flush in Draven’s cheeks, the keen look in his eyes. He was trying to mask everything, but it was there if you knewwhere to look. I’m not sure what kind of king Draven would make in peacetime, but in war?

This was what he was made for.

The theatrical flair of his demonstration of what dragonfire could do, the way he stirred the men. They loved him, that I could see clearly in each and every rider’s face. They held up their drinks to honour him, cheering when he did the same. I didn’t like beer much. Awful bitter stuff I’ve always thought, and yet I raised mine now gladly. Draven needed this, to be seen, to be recognised for everything he did for his country, and right now was his moment.

“He’ll lead us to victory,” the man giving the toast declared. “The first king in recent history to be a true dragon rider. Got the spirit of the dragon, this one, and now the fire of one. To the king!”

“To the king!”

The shout went up and out through the pub, and I felt swept up in it. The sound of a hundred voices toasting as one, there was a power to it. Would it survive the brutality of war, I didn’t know, but right now I hoped it would. Draven lifted his own beer, drinking the entire thing down to the sound of the crowd’s cheers, before he deposited the mug back on the desk with a flourish.

“Drink up, lads,” he commanded, “because tomorrow you’ll be drilling from dawn to dusk.” A good natured groan went through the crowd. “Or you’ll be packing provisions, working with the logistics teams to ensure we don’t starve on our journey. Whatever role you play, know that it’s an important one. I’ll need each and every one of you by my side for what we intend to do.” Someone ran forward and placed another tankard in Draven’s hand and he held it out then. “Bringing the Duke of Harlston and all the traitors to justice!”

“To justice!”

Draven sat down after that, the pub descending back into chaos. Riders rushed the bar, ready for more free beer, and that meant the spotlight was off us. I settled back into the booth, Flynn’s arm going around me, Draven’s hand landing on my thigh.

“Well, looks like we’re making a night of it.”

Ged’s grin was infectious. He waved a girl over to order morebeers. She nodded in acknowledgement, but finished depositing drinks from her tray on someone else’s table first.

“That’s not smart. You’ll be up at daybreak,” Soren grumbled. “I’ll make sure of it.”

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