Page 2 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
Or so I thought.
The sensation of eyes burning against my back sent me whirling to face him—the strange boy standing at the edge of our garden. He looked ordinary enough and no older than I, but I knew at once that he was…different.
He had hair the color of moonlight and eyes of such a deep, crystalline blue that they reminded me of the sapphires Mother had shown me in the jeweler’s shop window on our last visit to the city.
He stood just where our hedge met the wild forest, watching me with a curious tilt to his head. His clothing was finer than anything I’d ever worn—purple silk with silver threading that Father would have loved to work with.
“Hello,” I shyly greeted him. Mother had taught me to be polite, even to strange boys rudely lingering at the edge of our garden. “Are you lost?”
But he didn’t answer me. Instead, he leapt over the hedge in a single, fluid motion like a large cat.
With a surprised squeak, I skittered backward until my back thumped against the trunk of the old apple tree. I had never seen a boy leap that high before.
I had never seenanyoneleap that high before.
“Drae sol sha?”he whispered in a strange, musical language I had never heard before, cautiously closing the distance between us.
Bewildered, I frowned at him. “What did you say?”
He frowned right back, his brow furrowing. “I asked, ‘What are you?’” he repeated in heavily accented Common. “You do not speak Draconic?”
“Of course not,” I answered. I couldn’t think of anyone whodidspeak Draconic. “And I’m a girl, of course.”
“Naei, you’re not.”
And suddenly, the strange boy was standing close.
Tooclose.
My heart hammered wildly against my ribs as he ducked his head toward my neck and breathed in deep before exhaling, “I’ve smelled plenty of girls before, and you’re no girl.” In that musical tongue again, he whispered,“Sha sol feyra.”
I peeled myself away from the tree and fled by several paces. Should I scream for Papa? Should I run indoors and warn my parents that there was a stranger in our garden claiming that I didn’t smell like a girl?
After a moment’s consideration, my curiosity and indignation won out over good sense.
Cheeks flushing hot, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t knowwhoyou think you are, but it’s terribly rude to wander into people’s gardens and talk about how they smell.”
Mama would have scolded me for talking to someone above my station with such a sharp tongue. This boy might very well be the son of someone Father hoped to one day have as a client.
But this boy was being strange. My sharpness was well-deserved.
In the wake of my words, he bowed to me, as if I were a lady visiting the royal court of King Aldemar rather than a common-born girl standing in my family’s garden.
“Forgive me,feyra,” he apologized. “I am Benevolence of House Radiata. I meant no offense.”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “Benevolence? What sort of name is that?”
His posture stiffened. His chin lifted. Pride flashed in those impossibly blue eyes. “It’s a perfectly normal name for the Crown Prince of Drakara,” he said, carefully enunciating each word.
The rest of my laughter died in my throat.
“Drakara?” I whispered, scanning him from head to toe. “You’re teasing me,” I finally decided. “You’re a boy, not a dragon. And besides, why would a dragon be here?”
Dragons weren’t allowed in Briarhold. Not after the war thirteen years ago.
Everyone knew that.
“I am not teasing you,” he said, seeming genuinely offended now. “My father and mother, King Valor and Queen Serenity, were just visiting withyourking at the palace there”—he tipped his head in the direction of Spindleton—“and now we are on our way back home for my birthday celebration.”
