Chapter Seven
ESOFI
Esofi stood in the doorway to the ballroom, her ladies on either side, listening to the sound of her heartbeat and the soft rustling of her own petticoats. The room before her was already filled with laughing, glittering Ieflarians and curious foreigners, all waiting to hear her decision. In one corner, she could see Squire Ilbert and a few footmen guarding the marriage contract, which was complete save for the blank space where the name of Esofi’s betrothed would be filled in after she announced her choice.
“Princess Esofi of Rhodia,” announced the herald, his voice echoing across the ballroom. “Lady Lexandrie of Fialia, Lady Lisette of Diativa, and Lady Mireille of Aelora.”
The room fell silent, and Esofi felt a bit light-headed. She was certainly used to being stared at by hundreds of people; it had been a regular aspect of her childhood, after all. But rarely was she the unequivocal center of attention. Attention would rest on her for a moment, then move on to her siblings before usually settling on her parents.
But now, everyone was watching her, and her alone.
Esofi stepped forward into the ballroom, a soft smile on her face. The servants had outdone themselves tonight. Everything gleamed, from the wooden floors to the candlesticks. It seemed every archway had been decorated with early roses and every plinth held an enormous gold vase that was near to bursting with flowers.
Esofi’s dress was pale-golden silk intricately embroidered with patterns of flowers in bloom. The upper skirt parted in the front, revealing the second layer of ivory skirts beneath it. The sleeves were held against her skin until they reached her elbow and exploded into three separate layers of loose ruffles, similar to the ruffles around her neckline. The bodice of the dress was brocade and had been sewn with tiny diamonds.
Around her neck, she wore a triple-stranded pearl necklace set with an enormous yellow sapphire. Her earrings and bracelets were pearls as well, and although it was impossible to see them, her shoes had also been sewn with pearls. Her ladies had styled her hair as usual, but this time instead of ribbons or flowers, she wore a small golden filigree tiara.
She was immediately approached by some Ieflarian nobles, but she barely heard their compliments. She scanned the room, but it seemed neither the twins nor Adale had arrived yet.
Carriages had been arriving for the past few days, bringing guests from all across Ieflaria and even beyond. It was equal parts betrothal ceremony and celebration of the end of the mourning period. Even an olive-skinned couple with crowns resting in their dark hair were at the center of another crowd—King Marcius and Queen Isabetta of Vesolda.
King Dietrich and Queen Saski were the next to enter, bringing the room to a hush. They were both accompanied by their retinues, but Adale was not with them. Esofi waited to see if she would be announced afterward, but the next party to arrive were from Armoth, one of Ieflaria’s western fiefs.
Esofi approached Saski once the initial wave of people greeting the queen had drifted on to other things.
Saski’s face brightened when she saw Esofi. “Oh, my dear, you look so lovely. I’d hug you, but I’m afraid for your dress. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you here.”
“Thank you,” said Esofi. “Have you seen Adale yet?”
“She’s not here yet?” asked Saski.
Esofi shook her head.
“But she left before I did. How…odd. I’m sure she’ll be here any moment, then. She was extremely eager for tonight, you know.”
Esofi nodded and told herself that she was being silly. Adale wanted her. She hadn’t spent hours researching the dragons solely out of a sense of responsibility—had she?
No, Esofi told herself. Not Adale.
The twins were the next to arrive, in matching outfits of pale-blue silk. They completely ignored everybody except Esofi, attaching themselves to her sides as they always did, their hands stroking her arms softly as they spoke. Perhaps they were feeling less homesick than usual, because they seemed to be in especially good spirits that night, with no complaints about the food or the decorations or the servants.
As the bell chimed six, the musicians began to play and people began wandering toward the floor to dance. Esofi stared at them, unseeing, while Mireille and Lisette whispered fiercely to one another behind her back.
“Wouldn’t you like to dance?” asked Brandt, holding out one hand to her. Some of Adale’s friends were already on the floor, and so she took his hand and allowed him to lead her in a dance—only to slip out of his grasp at the first spin-and-release and intercept Lady Daphene before she could return to her own partner.
She’d half expected Daphene to be offended, but Adale’s lady seemed to find the whole thing funny.
“Have you seen Adale tonight?” Esofi asked over the music.
“What? You mean she’s not here yet?” cried Daphene. She was an extremely good dancer, if not a bit too exuberant, spinning Esofi so quickly that she was afraid she’d be sick. “That’s impossible!”
“You didn’t come in with her?” asked Esofi, halting in her steps, a sick dread rising in her stomach.
“We thought she’d left without us,” said Daphene. “Really, I mean it—we thought she’d left us behind because she couldn’t wait to see you. Wait, I’ll sort this out.” Daphene gestured to her friends to come nearer, creating an obstruction on the dance floor but not seeming to care. “Does anyone know where Adale is?”
Within a minute, it was clear that nobody did.
“Perhaps she wants to make an entrance,” suggested Lady Brigit. “Something really stupid, you know? She’s been simmering ever since the twins brought in that unicorn. I bet she’s off trying to find someone to sell her a winged horse.”
This got some laughter from the group, as winged horses were known to be even rarer than unicorns, at least on the continent of Ioshora. Esofi couldn’t find it within herself to smile, though. She merely nodded and walked off the dance floor.
Fortunately, one side of the ballroom was lined with chairs for exhausted dancers. Unfortunately, before she could make it over there, she was pulled aside by Queen Saski.
“You haven’t seen my daughter yet, have you?” Saski’s tone was light, as if the question was no more than a casual inquiry, but Esofi knew the truth. Adale still hadn’t arrived and probably never would.
Esofi didn’t trust herself to look the other woman in the face, so instead, she stared at a point just over Saski’s shoulder.
“I’m sure she will be here soon enough,” said Esofi, pulling out of the queen’s grip. Then she accepted a glass of wine from a servant, who gave her a humiliatingly pitying look, and went to go sit down.
Across the crowded ballroom, King Dietrich was now giving harsh orders to a pair of castle guards, his hands clenched into furious fists. He pointed out of the room and then at the floor in front of him. The guards saluted and rushed out of the ballroom. Esofi had a sinking feeling that she knew what they had been sent to retrieve.
But she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to marry someone who needed to be dragged before her. She wanted to go over to King Dietrich and tell him not to bother, but for some reason, the idea of approaching him filled her with sadness.
Then, quite suddenly, she was aware of someone sitting down next to her. She turned to look, expecting to see one of the twins but instead found herself staring down at a little girl in a rather large dress of blue brocade. The style was unusual, and Esofi couldn’t quite place it.
“Hello,” said the little girl calmly. “Do your feet hurt?”
“Ah…” said Esofi. “No? Do yours?”
“Not anymore!” said the little girl brightly and extended her feet out beneath her dress, showing off bare white stockings. Esofi couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re Esofi,” the little girl said. “Right? Either you’re Esofi, or she is.” The girl pointed across the room at Lexandrie, the only one of the waiting ladies that Esofi hadn’t lost track of.
“No, you’re right, I’m Esofi,” she assured the child. “What’s your name?”
“Vita.” From Vesolda, then. That explained the odd dress. “Which one are you going to marry? Mada says you get to pick.”
“I don’t know,” said Esofi honestly. “I thought I would marry the crown princess. But…she hasn’t come. I think she might have changed her mind.”
“She’s stupid, then,” announced Vita.
Esofi tried not to laugh. “We mustn’t talk that way about the crown princess.”
Vita pressed her lips together and shifted them back and forth in an odd way. “Are you going to tell them you can’t decide?”
“I can’t,” said Esofi. “I’ve already waited too long.”
“Tell them to bring you someone else,” suggested Vita. “Someone new.”
That was certainly an idea. But while she had a feeling nobody would question her not marrying Adale, she knew that she didn’t have a good reason for rejecting the twins.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” said Esofi sadly.
“Esofi!” cried Brandt. She looked up to find the young man standing before her. “There you are—I was afraid I’d lost you! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” said Esofi, but her tone was brittle and fake. “I just needed to rest my feet. I’m sorry.”
Brandt took the seat on Esofi’s other side and gave a very quiet sigh.
“You must be so disappointed,” he said, leaning in close to her. “But that’s just how she is. Even you’ve realized that by now. My cousin means well, she truly does, but she’s always had difficulty with carrying out her duties…”
Esofi gave a small nod and lurched to her feet. “Excuse me. I’m going to get some air.”
The balcony wasn’t too crowded, and Esofi ignored any and all attempts that the Ieflarians made to bring her into their conversations. She rested her palms on the cool stone of the railing and stared down at the brightly lit city below.
Nothing has changed. I will still be the queen of Ieflaria. That’s all that matters.
All she had to do was pick one of the twins.
Esofi paused to consider this. They were so alike, the twins, and never one without the other. It was almost difficult for her to separate them in her mind. Regardless of which twin she married, the other would never be far away.
Svana had a voice that could coax a unicorn close enough to be captured and had woven flowers through Esofi’s hair. Brandt was quiet and gentle, just how she’d always imagined Albion to be, and she knew she would always feel safe with him.
She didn’t know. How could she choose? Esofi was half inclined to toss a coin and leave the choice to fate.
Or perhaps…perhaps being the queen of Ieflaria wasn’t her destiny at all. She lifted her gaze to the horizon, in the direction of Valenleht, Ieflaria’s largest and most important port city. Beyond it lay the ocean and, past that, the rest of Inthya.
Lexandrie wouldn’t follow her, but Mireille and Lisette might. She could go to Anora and meet the Empress Xuefang at the Pearl Court, and they could all sip pale, bitter tea and laugh over her tale, because surely the journey would put enough distance between herself and Ieflaria to make the entire thing funny. Or perhaps she would go to the Burning Isles and be adopted by a tribe of bronze-skinned warriors who would spear sharks out of the ocean and teach her the names of gods she’d never heard of before. Or maybe she could go to the Elven lands and become a governess for the Elf King’s children. She would teach them how to eat with a fork so they could finally be accepted into the lands of Men.
She would save that one for last, though.
On the far horizon, movement caught her eye—a flock of birds wheeling toward the city. She wondered vaguely what sort of birds flew so near to dusk. Some odd Ieflarian species, perhaps…
Some large Ieflarian species…
Her eyes widened, and realization struck at the same moment that the first siren began to wail.
Esofi spun around and dashed into the ballroom. Already, people were beginning to panic. She grabbed her skirts and forced her way to the exit, which was actually quite difficult since it seemed like everyone else was going in the opposite direction, trying to get to the balcony so they could gawk uselessly at the sky.
Finally, Esofi was free of the crowd. She ran from the ballroom and raced down the halls of the castle, past frantic servants and shouting guards. As she went, she unclasped her necklace and let it fall to the floor. It was followed by her bracelets and then her earrings, leaving a trail of gems in her wake. She paused a moment to rip the diamonds from her bodice, and that was when Captain Henris caught up with her.
They stared at each other for a long minute, and then Esofi tore the last gemstone from her dress and let it fall to the floor, never once breaking his gaze.
“Princess, there are at least twenty dragons out there!” yelled Henris. “I can’t let you—”
Esofi felt like perhaps she had been possessed by a demon as she threw a wave of sparkling pink light at the man who had been her loyal protector, slamming him against the wall. Henris looked dazed as Esofi sprinted past him, her mind already on the upcoming battle, all too glad to shed her thoughts of weddings and disappointments.
Nobody else tried to stop her, and Esofi made her way down to the stables, knowing a horse was her only chance of getting to the city wall before the dragons overran Birsgen. There were no hostlers around to aid her, and so Esofi went to the stalls, hoping perhaps one of the horses might still be saddled.
To her great surprise, the unoccupied stall next to Adale’s horse now had a resident in the unicorn that the twins had brought. It was clearly agitated, swinging its head from side to side and gazing up toward the sky.
It knows. Then inspiration struck.
“Do you speak Ieflarian?” she asked, looking the unicorn full in the face.
The unicorn did not respond, though it did stare at her.
“Dro vaq Sibari na?” she asked. “Dei vou Rhodiania? Vaai Dassauvi? Vod Eska? I’ve already spoken to a dragon; I know you can understand me!”
The unicorn merely continued to stare, though now it seemed like it might be amused. Or perhaps that was merely wishful thinking.
“I know you’re angry at us, and you’ve a right to be,” said Esofi. “But there is an emperor coming to kill us all. If he succeeds, you’ll never get back home. I think I can stop him. But I need to get down to the city wall. If you help me, I will…” Esofi wondered what in the world she could offer a unicorn. “I will make it illegal to trap your kind for any reason. You will be safe from Men for the rest of your…” Esofi hesitated again. “How long do unicorns live for?”
The unicorn laughed, Esofi was certain of it, exhaling rapidly through his nose and making an amused sound from within his chest. Esofi gave an incredulous laugh as well.
“Very well,” it said. No, not it—he. The unicorn had a sonorous voice that matched his beautiful form. “But only because I know the dragons would not grant me that same protection or even the protections I have now.”
Esofi felt a little ill. “You mean they’d eat you?”
“My poor mad cousins? Yes,” said the unicorn. “Now let me out of here. It smells of sorrow.”
Esofi threw the latch and wrenched the stall open. “Thank you. And I am sorry—I didn’t realize you weren’t an animal. I didn’t realize the dragons weren’t either until only a few days ago.”
The unicorn turned his head to one side as if inspecting her. “One spoke to you? But that is forbidden.”
“Why?” asked Esofi. “Why aren’t you allowed to speak to us? It would make things so much easier if you could! You could have representatives at King Dietrich’s court, and nobody would mistakenly harm you.”
“You misunderstand,” said the unicorn. “I am not forbidden to speak. I merely choose not to. The dragons, however…the emperor has ordered their silence. It makes them easier to control. He would face more opposition if his subjects began to think of Men as their equals.”
Esofi had a thousand questions, but the unicorn knelt with his front legs so Esofi could easily climb on to his back. It was difficult with her heavy and complicated skirts, but the unicorn rose easily, as though she weighed nothing.
“What should I hold on to?” asked Esofi, who had never even considered riding without a bridle or saddle.
“Not my mane, you’ll tear at it,” said the unicorn. “Put your arms around my neck. And try not to dig in your heels.”
Esofi did as he said, leaning forward against his warm neck. His horn gleamed in the fading light like a naked blade, a fearsome weapon. Yet he had not used it to escape the twins or attack any of the Ieflarians.
The unicorn broke into a canter, and Esofi clung tighter. He was far, far faster than any horse and rounded the side of the castle within minutes. Then, with the road down into the Temple District in sight, he broke into a gallop.
He could have outrun any horse in the world easily. Esofi had wanted to ask him more questions on the way to the city wall, but now she was afraid that she’d bite off her own tongue if she attempted to speak. She gritted her teeth together and watched the assorted districts of Birsgen fly past, occasionally catching a glimpse of an openmouthed citizen staring at her in wonder.
As they drew nearer, Esofi could see the dragons hovering in the sky, occasionally swooping down to engage with the guardsmen that had flooded out to defend the wall. But they weren’t truly attacking, not yet.
The unicorn skidded to a halt. “I will go no further. I do not wish for them to catch my scent.”
Esofi slid off his back and tumbled to the ground. Her legs felt strange and numb, and she couldn’t feel her fingers at all, but now she was close enough that the shouting of the city guards, followed by echoing roars, reached her.
“Which one is the emperor?” Esofi asked.
“I could not guess, Princess.” The unicorn lowered his head for a moment. “I wish you well.”
“Thank you,” said Esofi solemnly. “And I meant what I said—if I live, I will make this country safe for your kind.”
“I know,” said the unicorn. “I would not have carried you if you had lied.”
Esofi felt her eyes widen. “You are a Truthsayer? But that is Iolar’s magic! You are a creature of Talcia.”
“And you are a creature of Iolar who carries Talcia’s magic,” the unicorn reasoned. “Is that any different?”
Esofi swallowed. “Thank you,” she said again.
The unicorn nodded at her before turning and galloping back in the direction of the castle.
Esofi hurried the rest of the way to the wall. But as she neared, she realized it wasn’t just city guards who had gathered. There were some priestesses of Reygmadra in their heavy plate armor and some paladins from the Order of the Sun in their chain mail and even some artisans from Inthi’s District, their hands alight with orange flames. A few bright spots of color caught her eye, and she thought her own battlemages stood among them, having somehow beaten her frantic dash to the wall.
It was only when she emerged from the guard tower and onto the wall that she realized that they were not Rhodians at all—they were her own students, the newly gifted Ieflarians.
They gathered around her when they caught sight of her, hope and joy in their faces. They weren’t ready. They barely knew how to maintain a shield. They would be slaughtered! Esofi felt sick as she searched for a diplomatic way to order them back to the dubious protection of the temple. Talcia could not have meant them to die so soon and so terribly. It was unthinkable.
“Who is in charge here?” asked Esofi. There was a moment of silence as all the gathered Birsgeners looked around at one another.
“You are, Princess,” said one of the neutroi of Inthi at last.
Esofi had been afraid of that. “Where is Captain Lehmann?”
“We sent for him,” said one of the guardsmen. “He was at the betrothal. He’s on his way, I’m sure of it, along with the battlemages.”
“We’re battlemages!” objected one of Esofi’s students, a skinny woman who had worked as a shepherdess just outside the city before she’d been gifted.
“The true battlemages, then,” the guardsman retorted dismissively. Esofi’s students seemed prepared to show their disagreement, but she cut them off before the infighting could begin.
“That’s enough!” she said. “I’m going to try to talk to the emperor. Nobody attack, not for any reason, unless the dragons try to overtake the wall. Even if the emperor engages me, do not attack. I want to try to end this without any loss of life. Does everyone understand?”
“You cannot reason with a dragon,” said someone close by. Esofi looked around to find who had spoken, and a woman wielding a massive war hammer stepped forward. It took a moment for Esofi to recognize her—Gertra, Archpriestess of Reygmadra.
Esofi decided that there was no time to attempt to justify her actions. She walked toward the edge of the wall, gazing up at the dragons. “If I am killed,” she announced to nobody in particular, “please tell King Dietrich and Queen Saski that I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience and that my sister Esybele might be willing to come replace me if they ask very nicely.”
Then she leapt from the wall, bringing her magic to her hands to slow her descent enough to land safely on the long grass outside the city. She looked to the sky, but none of the dragons approached her. They seemed to be waiting for something, though Esofi could not guess what. But she knew what would get their attention.
Turning her attention to the fields before her, she called her magic to her hands. She took a few steps back to examine her canvas and began to sear designs into the long grass. She had done this as a child, as a game, admiring the glowing pink marks until they faded away or the gardeners spotted her and began screaming.
Now, she drew a luminous pink waxing crescent, followed by a half moon, then a full moon, and another half moon, this one waning, and then finally a waning crescent. It was a simpler version of the tattoo on her back, and she knew she had been successful even before she was completely finished with it, because one of the dragons, the largest one, was moving quickly and purposefully through the sky.
It dropped to the ground before her, the force of its landing almost knocking her over. Esofi kept her balance, though, and stepped forward to address it.
“Are you the emperor?” she asked.
The dragon said nothing.
“Please answer me,” said Esofi, allowing her magic to envelope her skin in a protective barrier. “I know you can speak.”
The dragon opened his mouth and roared. Esofi screamed back at it, a wordless sound of pain and outrage.
As the last of the sound died away, the dragon made a sound that sounded not unlike a laugh. He lowered his massive body onto all four of his legs and brought his head down to Esofi’s height.
“So, you are the one who has been killing my scouts,” he rumbled. “I was told to fear you, but you’re no different from any other Man.”
“This is my city,” said Esofi, surprising herself with how strong and clear her voice was. “This is my country. You and your soldiers will leave.”
The emperor threw back his head and bellowed out a laugh that echoed across the sky. “Little hairless rat! You think to order me? I rule the skies and all below!”
“Be reasonable,” said Esofi. “Talcia has already warned you—”
The emperor struck her lightly, almost casually. Esofi went flying back into the stone city wall. Fortunately, the magical shield over her skin buffered her from all but the worst of injuries. She staggered forward, and a few shattered pieces of rock fell from her shoulders and onto the street. Up on the wall, the Ieflarians shouted, but she gestured at them to hold their positions.
“You speak of things you do not understand!” roared the emperor. “When Mother sees how easily I have destroyed her new favorite, then she will finally realize how pathetic your kind is!”
“Is that why you hate us?” asked Esofi. “You think she favors Men over dragons?”
“She has favored Men for generations!” the emperor shouted in her face, the force of it knocking the last of the pins from her hair. “She has given blessings to your kind and revoked them from us!”
“The people of Ieflaria have learned that Talcia revokes her gifts when her will is ignored,” said Esofi. “But if you repent, she will forgive you, and you will find yourself blessed again. I can help you in this, if you will listen to me.”
The emperor laughed like an earthquake. “Men have nothing to teach dragons. I would be offended if I were not so entertained. When I finally rule over your lands, I will remember you with fondness.”
Esofi raised her head to the sky where the other dragons were waiting. She wondered if they believed in the emperor’s promise to eradicate mankind or if they were as unwilling as the one that had spoken to her.
But before she could ask any more questions, the emperor flared his neck in the way that signaled he was about to flame. He opened his mouth wide, and the scent emerged of noxious fumes gathering in his throat that would explode into magical fire in only a moment. She leapt aside just in time as the flames struck the wall behind her spot of just a moment ago.
From the skies above came a symphony of shrieks and roars, and the dragons began to move en masse toward the city wall. Esofi gritted her teeth together in despair, but she knew she had to trust the people of Ieflaria to protect their own city. Her opponent at the moment was the emperor.
He swung his head to follow Esofi’s progress across the field, keeping his body lowered to the ground so that she could not pierce his heart as she had so many dragons before. Deprived of her most familiar attack, Esofi was forced to think creatively. A dragon’s back was heavily armored, but the wings were comparatively delicate.
She called her magic to her hands again, releasing it from her palms just enough to propel herself a few meters off the ground, just high enough to leap onto the emperor’s back. Her hands grasped at his coarse scales, which jutted enough from his body for her to pull herself up. He made a sound of outrage and twisted his body around, trying to shake her free, but Esofi found his enormous wing joint and wrapped her hands around it tightly. Her head slammed against his body as he flailed, but she forced herself to hold on.
Finally, perhaps deciding that this course of action was undignified, the emperor spread his wings and launched himself into the sky, spiraling up toward the distant clouds. The delicate warmth of springtime quickly gave way to icy cold, and her hands began to slip. Esofi allowed her magic to race up her arms and gather in her hands, forming a pair of long daggers that manifested half within the emperor’s body. Instead of giving them hilts, she made the ends into gauntlets that clamped tightly around her wrists, leaving no chance that they would slip from her aching hands.
The emperor’s flight faltered as the sudden pain in his wing registered. His other wing still beat, but he was losing altitude. Esofi poured more of her magic into the blades, lengthening them and digging them deeper into the emperor’s wing.
He crashed to the ground inelegantly, rolling over onto his back. Esofi barely had time to dismiss the daggers and leap to safety. Pain shot through her leg as she connected with the ground, but she ignored it.
“You little worm!” he bellowed, blood trickling from his wing. “I will tear your disgusting fleshy hide off, one strip at a time!”
“Come try it, then,” said Esofi, gasping heavily. She spared a glance back toward the city, where the Birsgeners on the wall were engaged in a hundred battles with the other dragons. She could not tell who was winning and did not have time to evaluate their situation.
The emperor flared his neck, preparing to breathe his flames once more. But this time, Esofi knew what she had to do. She called her magic to her hands once more and let it propel her forward and directly toward him.
Alight with rage and magic in equal measures and lacking a more sophisticated plan of action, Esofi leapt into the emperor’s mouth.
A cry of shock emerged from his throat, and for a moment, all she could see was her own magic glinting off sharp teeth and rippling muscles. At the back of his mouth was a cavernous pit of darkness, and that was what Esofi hurled herself toward now. The stench was unbearable, but she hardly had time to consider it before the world burst into painful flames that tore at her protective shield and singed her hair.
Esofi did not waste her energy by screaming. Instead, she struggled to move on the soft, squishy interior of the emperor’s mouth. It was his tongue, she realized, and he was curling it, trying to force her into the path of his teeth.
Using her magic, Esofi forged a lance and plunged it into the base of the dragon’s mouth, clinging desperately to it. For just a moment, she caught a glimpse of the night sky as the emperor opened his mouth and bellowed in pain. His head tilted upward, so she released the lance and rolled toward the back of his throat.
As she moved, she pulled in every drop of magic she had, sinking it back into her core. Even the shield was sapped away as she funneled it into its source at the heart of her very self. She drew it in, in, in, compressing it down as tightly as she could force it to go. It trembled within her, straining to go somewhere, burning and aching—
Finally, when Esofi could stand the pain no longer, she released it.
A single wave of light seared her vision for the briefest of moments before the blackness overtook her.
ESOFI OPENED HER eyes and gazed into a sapphire sky studded with stars, clear and bright and oddly close. Her head was rested against soft leaves, and she sat upright carefully, surprised by the lack of pain in her body.
Birsgen was gone, instead replaced by quiet wilderness.
She looked around, shaking dry leaves and flower petals from her hair. In front of her were the smoldering remains of a campfire, and just beyond that was a woman, dressed in the heavy, coarse clothing of a hunter, who poked at the embers with a long stick.
“What happened?” Esofi murmured.
“You threw yourself into the emperor’s mouth,” said the woman. “An unorthodox strategy, to be sure.”
“I’m dead, then,” said Esofi, with the distinct feeling that she’d been cheated of something. Tears of bitter disappointment sprang to her eyes as she thought of everything she hadn’t had time to accomplish.
“No, Princess,” said the woman patiently, and it was in that moment that Esofi knew that she was no more a woman than the unicorn had been a horse. “You are not dead. You are, however, badly injured. But you will live. I only brought you here because I thought it was time we talked.”
Realization struck Esofi, and it was like waking from a dream. “I—I’m sorry!” she babbled. “I had no idea—I only—I was taught they were animals, wild animals, nobody knew, none of us knew—they would have destroyed us if we hadn’t—”
Talcia raised a hand, and Esofi immediately fell silent. “I know. How quickly things have changed. Once they were wise and noble. But now you have surpassed them. It has been…difficult.” Talcia looked away. “In the beginning, I only granted my gifts to my children. But the races of Men were so numerous and so full of love. So many voices, so many prayers. I could not resist you for long.”
“And the dragons became too wild even for you?” guessed Esofi.
Talcia’s mouth lifted in a brief smile. “Never. Impossible. Make no mistake—it is not wildness I object to. It is evil. Cruelty. Greed. Gluttony. That is why I revoked my gifts.” Her gaze met Esofi’s, and Esofi had the sudden sickening sensation that she was falling through the sky. But then the goddess blinked, and she was back in her body again.
“Perhaps it was my own error,” said Talcia quietly. “To make them so magnificent that they believed themselves infallible.”
“The emperor was angry,” said Esofi. “He was jealous. He believed you loved Men more than the dragons.”
Talcia laughed, and for a moment, Esofi caught a glimpse of her the way the dragons saw her: an enormous dragon, twice as large as the emperor had been, with gleaming ebony scales and burning yellow eyes.
“Men?” she asked. “With your carefully tended fields and elaborate palaces? With ribbons in your hair and bread in your hearths? You play in the woods for an hour and think you know wildness. You have touched it with a fingertip, nothing more. Still—” She seemed thoughtful. “I will see to him next. I expect we have much to discuss. But you need to focus your worries upon the living.”
“What do you want from me?” asked Esofi.
“The very thing you want from yourself,” said Talcia. “You mean to be the queen of Ieflaria, do you not?”
“I don’t know if that’s going to happen,” Esofi admitted sadly.
“No?” Talcia tilted her head. “After everything, you have lost your desire?”
“It’s not that simple,” said Esofi. “I would have chosen Adale. But it would seem she has not chosen me.”
“How very mistaken you are,” said Talcia.
Esofi opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but the goddess interrupted.
“You doubt me? I think not. Now go. And I don’t want to see you here again for another sixty years.”
She awoke.
ESOFI OPENED HER eyes again. Stony pain filled every inch of her body, and her vision was blurry. Something was dripping into her eyes.
“Princess?” Esofi was just able to make out a woman’s shape before her. “Can you hear me, Esofi?”
Esofi nodded, but the motion sent a wave of nausea shuddering through her body. “The emp—” she began, but her mouth was filled with dry ash, and the rest of her words were lost to a hacking cough.
“We need a healer!” bellowed Adale to someone she could not see. “Don’t move, please, please! We’ll get this all cleared in a moment!”
Already, some of the heavy pain was being lifted away from her, but there was still something pressing uncomfortably against her stomach and arms.
“The emperor?” Esofi asked again, wiping her face on her shoulder, but it did no good—her shoulder was similarly stained. Someone—a healer wearing the robes of a priest of Adranus—wiped at her face with a cloth, and Esofi could see again. She realized the heavy things crushing her body were not stones, but enormous chunks of dragon flesh, and it was blood that stained her from head to toe.
Adale was still gazing down at her, face streaked with tears, her arms wrapped around Esofi’s shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” whispered the crown princess in a broken voice. “Gods, Esofi, I’m such a fool. I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” asked Esofi, still feeling a little dazed.
“Princess!” That was Captain Henris. “Thank the gods! Are you all right?” He entered her field of vision, and the toll that the battle had taken on him was obvious. His robes were torn and singed, and his face was covered in dry ash.
“What happened to the emperor?” Esofi insisted.
“There,” said Henris, gesturing to something large and unmoving a few hundred yards away. It looked like the emperor, but its head was missing, blown off at the neck. “The others fled when it fell.”
It was only the fact that she had refrained from eating anything all day long that saved Esofi from retching onto the street.
“You jumped on its back,” said Adale in an oddly shaky tone, “and then you leapt into its mouth! Are you mad? I thought you were going to die just like Albion—” Her words turned into a pained wail, and she began to sob.
Suddenly feeling deeply guilty but unable to free her arms, Esofi pressed her cheek to Adale’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I worried you,” she whispered.
Adale rested one hand behind Esofi’s head, stroking her wet hair, but said nothing more.
“I’m sorry. And I probably smell terrible, too.”
Adale burst into laughter even as she continued to cry. “You’re right, you do!” She sobbed. “Also, you—you, you have no eyebrows!”
Esofi laughed, but for some reason, it came out as tears.
Adale looked alarmed. “No, I didn’t mean it like that! No, you’re still beautiful. They’ll grow back. Please don’t cry!”
Esofi laughed again, and this time, it came out right, except the tears were still there so she simply laughed and cried at the same time, utterly drained and completely overwhelmed. But Adale looked distinctly relieved.
“Crown Princess,” said Captain Henris, “I understand that this is a difficult time for you, but perhaps you can get out of the way so we can free Princess Esofi?”
Adale reluctantly released Esofi, and she rested her head on the grass.
“I’m sorry I struck you,” Esofi informed Henris. “I was…upset.”
Henris gave an incredulous laugh. “I’d forgotten about that. It seems a lifetime ago. Think nothing of it.”
“No,” said Esofi. “I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong. Please accept my apology.”
“Princess,” said Henris, “I sincerely—after everything—you cannot believe I am angry because you had a moment of…” He seemed unable to find the word he sought. “Besides, if you hadn’t done it, you might not have been able to defeat the emperor before he overran the city.”
“Please,” Esofi pleaded more softly, and something in Henris’s face seemed to change.
“Very well,” he said. “I accept your apology. All is forgiven. Now let’s get the rest of these…pieces…off you.”
“Yes, please,” said Esofi. “Something is pressing into my ribs terribly.”
The last of the “pieces,” as Henris put it, were removed from her body quickly, but the odd pain remained. There were a few quiet gasps, and Esofi looked down, expecting to see something terrible, like her own entrails. But instead, nestled against her chest, wrapped in her arms, was something very warm and very large, with a curved shell that gleamed faintly in the twilight.
“What is that?” asked Adale.
“It’s an egg,” said Esofi, with the sudden suspicion that she might be dreaming. “It’s a dragon egg.”
Others were beginning to gather around, murmuring soft words of amazement.
“Where did it come from?” asked one of the Rhodian battlemages.
“Was it inside the dragon?” asked another. “Was it a…female?”
“No,” said Esofi. “No. It was…a gift. From Talcia.” Understanding blossomed in her. “Adale, we need to get married before it hatches, or it will be a bastard. I won’t have that.”
Adale looked alarmed. “I—what?”
Oh. She had forgotten. Esofi hugged the egg to her chest. “Never mind, I—never mind. Where are the twins?”
“Are you—no! No! No! No!” Adale looked around desperately. “No. No. No, no, no. I need to explain, it’s not what it looked like. Your own ladies can vouch for me. They’re the ones who broke me out!”
“Broke you out?” repeated Esofi. The healers set to work, but Esofi ignored them, even when they did something to her leg that set her entire body aflame with pain.
“The twins locked me in Albion’s room so I would miss the betrothal,” said Adale.
“Don’t be ridiculous—” began Esofi.
“I know you won’t believe me, so I’m not going to try to convince you,” Adale interrupted. “Ask Lisette or Mireille. They’re the ones who managed to find me. They got me out just in time, as the sirens went off.”
“But the twins—” Esofi protested weakly.
“They’re awful!” cried Adale. “They always have been! Ask anyone! You’ve seen how they treat people! That’s why I didn’t suggest them to you the night before Theodoar tried to duel you! I didn’t want you trapped in a marriage with one of them!”
Esofi looked up at Adale, torn between wanting and not wanting to believe her. From nearby came the sound of someone clearing her throat, and Esofi turned to look. Lisette was standing just beside Captain Lehmann, dressed in a tattered ball gown with a distinctly unhappy expression on her face.
“Lisette,” said Esofi weakly. “She’s lying, isn’t she? Isn’t she?”
Lisette merely pressed her lips together. “Do focus on recovering, Princess. I need you to get well enough for me to be able to slap you.”
THE FIRST DAY of summer was bright and beautiful, and so they spread a blanket on the lawn and took their lunch there. Adale’s friends were particularly rowdy, shouting and singing and drinking (and encouraging Mireille to join in) while Lexandrie sat at a table a few meters away and turned her nose up at them. She had been in a terrible mood ever since the twins had been politely but firmly escorted back to Valenleht, which surprised Esofi to no end.
Usually, Lisette would watch such events from some shadowy alcove or rooftop, but she seemed to have decided the time for subtlety was past. She sat at the table next to Lexandrie, quietly cleaning a hand crossbow.
At the center of it all was Esofi and Adale, the former heavily bruised and bandaged, and both extremely happy. Settled just between them was a lump of fabric the size of a housecat. It was left undisturbed, for now.
As the last song drew to a close, a long shadow fell over the blanket. “I see I’ve missed all the fun,” said a quiet voice, prompting everyone to look up.
“Theodoar!” cried Adale in delight, springing to her feet. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug and lifted him a few inches off the ground.
“Hello,” said Esofi mildly.
Theodoar blanched. “Princess. You look…ah…”
“She looks beautiful,” insisted Adale.
“The healers say all this nonsense can come off in another week,” said Esofi, gesturing to her leg. “And the bruises will fade soon enough. Honestly, I feel fine. I know I look terrible—no, don’t object, I own a mirror—but really, I’ll be perfect in time for the wedding.”
“Yes, and we’ll all shave our eyebrows in solidarity,” said Lady Brigit from somewhere in the back. Esofi picked up a half-eaten pastry and hurled it at Brigit’s face. The shrieks of laughter told her that she’d struck her target, and Theodoar gradually began to smile.
“Come sit down,” said Adale. “You haven’t met Carinth!”
“Carinth?” repeated Theodoar, but at that very moment, Adale untangled the lump of blankets, revealing a very, very small dragon with blue-gray scales and enormous golden eyes.
Theodoar gave a yelp and leapt back in shock.
“He hatched two weeks ago,” said Esofi. “I was hoping he would wait until after the wedding, but I’m not as upset as I thought I would be. Look how big he is already. It’s incredible. When he first hatched, I could hold him in one hand.”
Theodoar continued to stare, his lips moving but no sound emerging.
“Give him a gold coin and he’ll be your friend,” suggested Adale.
Esofi smacked her shoulder. “Stop telling people that! We’re trying not to encourage hoarding behavior!”
Theodoar sat down beside them, offering one hand to the baby dragon. Carinth sniffed it curiously, his little tail waving back and forth.
“What are you going to do with it? Him?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t think anyone is going to accept him as our heir,” mused Adale. “So hopefully he’ll be an ambassador. Of course, with me as a mother, he might turn out to be a wandering minstrel instead. But here’s hoping.”
“You as a mother?” repeated Theodoar with a laugh. He reached out to stroke Carinth’s back, and the baby dragon arched his spine into the touch, like a cat might.
“Don’t laugh! Who was the one who knew we had to put the egg on the fire? That was me!” Adale looked extremely proud of herself. “I read it in a book. And I also knew that we had to grind his food up into chunks, and that he’s not going to start flying until he’s about a year old, and plenty of other things that I’ve forgotten now, but I can look them up again because I know how libraries work.”
“You’re so smart,” said Esofi affectionately, pressing a kiss to Adale’s cheek. Adale wrapped her arms around Esofi and kissed her on the lips for so long that her friends began to whistle. Eventually Carinth broke them apart by climbing onto Esofi’s neck and sticking his long tongue into her ear, making her shriek.
“Rude!” Esofi scolded Carinth as they broke apart. She picked him up and held him out so that she could examine him fully. “We don’t lick people’s ears. That’s disgusting.”
Carinth didn’t seem too upset by the admonishment and wriggled free of her hands in order to chase after a butterfly, his tiny winglets unfurling occasionally in the soft breeze.
Esofi sighed. “He’s hopeless. We’ve ruined him already. What am I going to tell Talcia? Don’t answer that,” she added as Adale opened her mouth to speak. “I can’t listen to any more of your blasphemy.”
“Well, I have unfortunate news,” said Adale. “Just about every other thing I say is blasphemy.”
“Well, can you at least try to space them out?” asked Esofi. “One per month, perhaps? Instead of six in the course of a single afternoon?”
Adale laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.” She laced their fingers together and kissed the back of Esofi’s palm. “Because I am madly in love with you.”
Esofi smiled. “So am I. Now, please go fetch our son before he falls into the well again.”