Page 48 of Flameborne: Chosen
“Y-yes, Sir,” she said shakily. “I was told to report there today, but—”
“We’ll find something,” I said sharply, aggravated with myself for not anticipating this. Of course the female servants wouldn’t know what she needed for this. I’d let her down, and now she was trembling. “Don’t worry,” I said, trying to make my voice gentler. “You may not have flight leathers, but we can find something… workable. And I’ll have words with them to ensure you aren’t left inappropriately attired again,” I said. “Now, come. We only have an hour.”
She nodded and hurried to follow as I turned on my heel and strode for the stable door.
‘Well done, Commander. She’s barely trembling,’Kgosi sent, his tone as dry as the Waghasi desert.
‘She isn’t the only one,’I shot back.‘If you don’t have anything helpful to say right now, please say nothing at all.’
Kgosi gave a long, low rumble, the deep bass that rolled out of the ground and buzzed in my feet on the stones of the aisle outside the stable.
‘Very frightening,’I taunted him.
‘We can’t all be as terrifying as the peak in your trousers, Donavyn.’
Mortified, I snapped my head down to look at myself—then whipped it back up, cheeks flaming.
‘That wasn’t funny.’
But both the dragons were fuckinglaughing.
And when I looked back at Bren, hurrying to catch up with me in thatfucking dress,her brow was furrowed with worry. She turned, her body straining against that neckline again as she looked over her shoulder to stare at the dragons, both huffing with amusement in our wake.
What a fucking morning.
13. Cold Morning
~ BREN ~
The Commander wasangry.Disapproving. Irritated.
My hands shook.
He’d said it wasn’t my fault, but his face was stern and cold. He’d had to delay the important meeting. But it couldn’t be a formal affair if a dress was inappropriate.
“What’s your last name, Bren?” he asked suddenly.
“Kearney, Sir.”
“Be aware, because you’re female, most of the men will refer to you by your last name. You should grow accustomed to responding to it.”
“I… I’ll do my best.”
He sighed, his wide shoulders tensing and jerking up like someone had flicked him in the ear. He shot a murderous look over his shoulder, towards the dragon, then looked at me again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to warn you last night,” he said darkly. “It seems I overlooked several details. But I’ll fill you in now.”
I hurried forward to walk just behind his arm, listening intently as he described the expectations placed on a Flameborne, both in costume, and conduct.
“You’re a worker. A trainee. An apprentice,” he said slowly. “When you’re assigned a Squad, you’ll be the lowest rank, which means your role is to listen, and to serve those who have already walked the road you now take.”
I nodded. Listening and serving was roughly what I’d done with my parents as well. That didn’t seem too hard.
“Even in your off-hours, you should always be preparedto be called into service. Sometimes because your leaders will choose to challenge youby bringing you unexpected tasks. And sometimes because if there is an alarm, every able-bodied rider and dragon will be called in, ranked or not. Do you understand?”
“Be ready to work at all times, even during my free hours,” I said quickly, nodding.
The Commander glanced back at me, his expression less tense now, more thoughtful.
