Page 3 of Enchanter of Dragons
He bowed deeply. “Welcome back, Your Highness. Congratulations on your successful campaign.”
“Thank you, Grisden,” Jaega said with warmth in his voice. It wasn’t the way Fersen expected a general or a prince to speak to a servant. “It is always a pleasure to come back to you waiting for me.”
Grisden bowed again. “It is my great honor and privilege. Who is your guest?”
“This is Fersen. He needs our help, so I expect him to be treated to the same high standard as any Ariake guest.”
Fersen was oddly grateful that Jaega hadn’t explained how they had met. The fewer people who knew about his time in captivity, the better.
“Of course, I will personally see to it. How may I be of assistance?”
“First, I will need you to summon our best lock picker to free him from these enchanted cuffs. He will need a fresh change of clothes and boots, as well as a hearty dinner. Perhaps a filling meat stew if it is available.”
“Umm…”
Jaega glanced over at Fersen. “Do you prefer something else?”
Fersen rubbed the back of his head, feeling awful for having the audacity to make any demands when so much was being offered. “Sorry, it’s just…I’m an herbivore, so I don’t eat meat.” He held his breath, waiting for the fallout from a meat-eating dragon shifter, who surely wouldn’t understand.
But Jaega continued to surprise him. “Would you prefer I also refrain from eating meat?”
Fersen waved a hand in front of him. “No, please eat whatever you please. It’s a personal preference. I can’t stomach meat, but I have no problem with anyone else eating it. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“It is no trouble at all.” Jaega returned his attention to Grisden. “Please make Fersen’s preferences known to the cooks.”
“As you wish, Your Highness. Is there anything else?”
“Have a healer summoned once the lock picker has finished.”
“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” Fersen said. “I’m a shifter, so once these magic-suppressing manacles are removed, I should heal.”
Jaega’s expression was filled with intrigue. “Interesting. I can tell you are a shifter from your markings, but I cannot tell what kind because you have no scent.”
“The cuffs suppress that, too. King Decius didn’t want any of his men finding me.”
Jaega frowned with concern. “Then I am even more grateful that I came across you. I would hate to think about the alternative.”
A shudder ran through Fersen. “I’d prefer not to think about it as well.”
Jaega returned his attention to his servant. “Oh, Grisden, one more thing. Have Torval sent to the brig for the night. Inform him he will still be paid for fighting in the campaign as he put his life on the line for our kingdom, but he has forfeited his victors’ bonus because of his egregious behavior. That will instead be given to Fersen.”
“Me?” The single word came out as a squeak of disbelief.
“It is not enough for what he wanted to do to you, but it will at least give you some money for your journey home and to help you rebuild your life.”
Fersen’s eyes welled up with tears again. “Th-thank you, that’s so considerate of you, General Jaega.”
The dragon shifter’s gaze softened. “You are not one of my men, so you do not have to refer to me by my military rank. Calling me Jaega will suffice.”
It seemed wrong somehow. “But shouldn’t I at least address you as ‘Your Highness’ since you’re a prince?”
Jaega chuckled. “Just ‘Jaega’ is fine.”
“I will leave to begin preparations at once,” Grisden said with another formal bow. He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
Jaega gestured for them to take a seat in front of the fire. Although it wasn’t terribly cold out, the heat still felt nice when all Fersen had on was a coat.
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth about how you found me?” Fersen asked.
