Beauty and the Dragon

by Melody Rose

  I needed to make her eat, even if it meant disturbing her from this trance. I stepped backward, strangely transfixed by her, then finally left the room and closed the door behind me. Despite my curiosity as to the source of her fascination, I would discuss this quandary with Chef Ramsey, certain his temper would dissipate with the prospect of serving Lady Rosalind.

  23

  Troy

  “Ah! Her loyal servant yet again, yes?” Chef Ramsey teased with a delirious grin, drunk off my humility. I supposed it was rather rare for such a praised warrior. “She has you eating out of the palm of your hand. Mayhap you’ll be fetching her meals for the rest of your life as her Fated Mate?”

  I bit my tongue to keep myself from responding with venom. I hadn’t trained at combat and swordplay to be spoken down to, but in a way, my hands were tied. One of the few things I was not well versed in was the culinary arts, and so I would need to defer to this cook’s mockery for now.

  “If you prefer to see it that way, then I cannot stop you.” I shrugged with utter apathy as though I were immune to any barbs. “I am most concerned with making sure that Lady Rosalind does not perish during her time here.”

  The middle-aged chef rose his eyebrows at that, the furrows in his forehead more pronounced. I could tell that any reference to Lady Rosalind in less than peak condition would alarm him. That was why I chose hyperbole and modeled my melodrama off Bard Pomi’s ballads.

  “Is she not well?” Chef Ramsey’s tone was scrubbed of its smugness and was instead strained with anxiety. “Was her performance too taxing? It seemed too good to be true, and she is but a slight thing, even with all her powers.”

  “For now, I believe she will fare just fine with the right intervention. It is only that her mind has been turned by too many books,” I explained. “You and I cannot understand the ways of these word-maddened spellcasters. She hasn’t eaten or bathed since last evening, and she’s wiled away, drowning in riddles, and I cannot rouse her from her reverie. You know how entangled she is with legends, as evidenced by her recent display. I have noticed that she is quite taken with a good meal, though, and so I’ve come to you.”

  Chef Ramsey’s shoulders notably dropped, releasing tension from my more favorable news. A smile even lightly tugged his lips.

  “You grow brighter by the day, lad!” he exclaimed. “I must admit, I was rather disappointed to see you without Lady Rosalind hanging on yer arm. If you had any sense, you would have given her the royal treatment…”

  I groaned and couldn’t help interjecting. “Aye, I did, a queen’s quarters. I do not jest.”

  The cook crossed his arms over his chest thoughtfully. “Well, I am sure she meant no malice, not making an appearance this morning. I was of no mind to spoil you lot if our esteemed guest wasn’t among you, but I am in better spirits to hear she is enjoying her lodgings in her own way.” He then eyed his sundry supplies, shaking his head with a chuckle. “How can we, illiterate as we are, judge the affinities of noble foreigners? My grandfather told me how proper books can consume you like quicksand, and any ancient royal would have reams of them lying about, yes?” He shrugged. “It’s no matter. Let’s be hasty and whip her up a proper feast. Now shove off a moment so I can concentrate, yes?”

  I was more than happy to oblige. After all, this was his arena of expertise. I wouldn’t want to sour Lady Rosalind’s disposition with my pitiful attempts at cooking. So, I simply sat on a bench in the meal hall.

  Odd as it was, I swore that I could sense Lady Rosalind’s weakness from afar. Perhaps this was an aspect of a Fated Match, or I was just delirious with concern. With all the tales that Kalen and Chef Ramsey were pouring into my head, it was easy to fall into an alluring idealism that I was attuned to the Sorceress. I drummed my fingers against the wooden table before me, propping my head up with my other hand. Impatience was already gnawing at my nerves, but I couldn’t rush the cook’s preparations. I busied myself by contemplating how I might greet the spellmistress.

  After I had mentally rehearsed how I might address Lady Rosalind, Chef Ramsey waved me back into the kitchen. As I entered, I was immediately impressed by the medley of savory fragrances. I could understand why he didn’t bring out his fare to display it.

  Normally, he was opposed to waiting on others and rarely served personally except for a celebratory feast, but in this case, he had simply concocted far more than he could possibly carry. I was actually buoyed by this array, seeing it as an opportunity to prove to Lady Rosalind how much I could balance. I was well known for my hand-to-hand combat, so a collection of plates surely wouldn’t best me.

  “What do you think?” Chef Ramsey asked earnestly. His eyes widened with boyish innocence, like a lad begging for praise. “Do you think it will be enough? I imagine that it must take a feast indeed to restore her mana!”

  I tapped my chin thoughtfully, as though I weren’t entirely convinced before I chuckled. “It should be more than sufficient, dear Cook. For all of her… eccentricities… she is grateful for the kindness, especially when it involves meals. Quite a soft spot she has for those.”

  “Excellent!” The now eager cook nodded with vigor. “Now, I’ve put a good deal of effort into all of this, so please present it with style, my Champion. I want to live to soar in the skies, you understand?”

  “Perfectly,” I drawled, but tilted my head out of respect.

  I resolved to handle this all on my own. Rosalind did avoid others, after all. I lined my well-muscled arms with all of the platters, intent on bringing them to Lady Rosalind in one trip. I was able to balance three dishes on each arm, stacking them up to my bicep. Though I was happy to tend to the spellmistress, my envy was sparked by the commingled scents of sizzling sausages, herb-crusted potatoes, and warm, buttered toast. I did resent a little that I had the best of intentions and yet was resigned to bland oatmeal. Meanwhile, Lady Rosalind languished without caring about social customs and have Chef Ramsey dote on her.

  Still, I rallied myself. Now fully laden with offerings for Lady Rosalind, I embarked upon the upward trek to her quarters. Fortunately, my comrades were immersed in the afternoon training, away from the stronghold’s interior, to master combat in the courtyard grounds. Despite all the staircases I ascended, I did not buckle under the pressure, nor were my muscles even strained by the trial. Once I had approached her door, though, I couldn’t knock without disturbing any of her various meals. I steadied my arms, then raised my leg carefully, delivering a swift and decisive blow. I hoped this would finally be enough to earn her attention.

  Fortunately, the first kick was enough to break Lady Rosalind from her daze, and I heard her roll out of her bed and walk over to the door. She cracked open the door, tilting her head as she looked out into the hallway. When she focused on my face, she was still unwilling to allow me to enter. She cast a furtive glance to her bed, clearly struggling to peel herself away from her studies. The telltale signs of a more-than-decent breakfast dawned upon her, though, and she fully pulled open her door. A grateful smile danced upon her lips as hungry greed lit up her bright amber eyes.

  “What’s this?” she asked, even though her joyous expression told me that she was fully aware of what I brought her. Lady Rosalind’s appetite seemed to extend to my body, appraising my arms with quiet approval. She could barely restrain herself from licking her lips.

  I smiled at her mock innocence. “I hope you will forgive me, Lady Rosalind, but I took it upon myself to see how you were faring. I detected no signs that you’d eaten, quite unusual for you, yes? I took it upon myself to amend this. Ah… though we must thank Chef Douglas for the meals…” I corrected myself. As much as I would have liked to revel in Lady Rosalind’s gratitude, it struck me as improper to overlook the cook’s talents. “May I come in?”

  Lady Rosalind nodded eagerly and took a step backward with a sweeping gesture. “I would be more than glad to! I mean, look at that epic brunch, how could I resist?” She then examined me with sympathy. “Do you
need help with any of that?”

  I was rather curious if she was capable of telekinesis, the art of moving objects with the mind, according to Kalen. I chose not to ask her to prove herself, though, as she had precious little energy. But more importantly, I shook my head and rejected her offer because I wished to garner her admiration. I would be rather ashamed to accept assistance for a rather mild task.

  “Not at all, dear enchantress,” I answered with kind firmness, then strode into the room, scanning it to determine where to set the platters down. “Please make yourself comfortable. I will take care of all the arrangements from here.”

  24

  Rose

  After some time alone to decompress, my heart softened. Self-care and recharging were real for an introvert, so I was in a much better mood. It didn’t hurt that Troy had a veritable buffet lined up on his well-muscled arms. Now, I couldn’t tell if my mouth was watering from the sausages or his impressive strength. Here I was, flooded with images of Troy shirtless. I didn’t know if that was the appetite he wanted to rev up, but I was definitely enjoying myself.

  I shook my head, trying to chase out the risque thoughts. “Do you need any help with that?” I asked, hoping I didn’t stammer with how flustered I was.

  “I will take care of all the arrangements from here,” he demanded.

  Who was I to argue? I mostly offered my assistance to be nice, but I wasn’t really being practical. As far as I knew, I didn’t have super strength. Then again, I never really bothered to check.

  “Suit yourself.” I nodded with enthusiasm.

  Honestly, this was a load off my shoulders. I couldn’t believe I’d gone so long without conjuring any meals. I mean, if the training didn’t cut into my reading, I’d definitely kill it as a competitive eater. Now, I could tuck into a week’s worth of food, thanks to Troy.

  I took a step back and waved Troy in. The truth was, I felt pretty bad that I’d been such a shut-in, especially with all the hospitality I was given. I decided it was time to make up for being a terrible house, er, stronghold guest. As he smiled softly and accepted the invitation, I thought I caught a whiff of a delicious smell of something uniquely Troy. I wondered how that was possible since there were so many scents to compete with. Was it all in my head, or was I really that drawn to him?

  My eyes drifted below his hips as he walked with his back to me, and I had to fight myself not to lick my lips. His leather breeches did perfect justice to his muscular butt, thighs, and calves.

  Back in my world, we’d say a guy like that didn’t miss a leg day. I used to hear my girls giggle in the break room about dates they’d have after hours. They’d swoon over their new objects of affection, going over a laundry list of what drove them wild. I never really understood the point of a boyfriend, seemed too time-consuming.

  Now that I was sizing Troy up like a piece of meat, though, I decided I could be convinced.

  “Where would you like this, my Lady?” Troy looked around him. He stood frozen.

  I guessed I gave the wrong impression that I was a neat freak. I was only really persnickety with books, and magic had somehow made me a self-cleaning machine. That is, up until now. I was so strung out that I was a bit worse for wear. Luckily, Troy didn’t seem to judge how ruffled I was.

  “Hm…” I tapped my chin and held my finger up to tell him to wait. Of course, this forced him to stand there, holding all those plates. It didn’t seem to bother him, as Troy nodded without a single complaint. I could get used to being waited on like this. As a public servant when I was a regular old human, I was more familiar with taking care of my community’s needs than having mine served.

  “One moment!” I exclaimed, then rushed over to my bed. I thought it’d be pretty comfy and the closest I had to a dining table. Plus, it was only right to ask him to stay, and he was honestly growing at me. I just didn’t have the energy to summon any furniture, so I’d have to make do.

  Not that jumping into bed with Troy was really a compromise. Even though it was more like… onto the bed. Even so, the silk comforter was covered in Queen Zielona’s diary entries. There was no way in hell that I’d let so much as a crumb on one of them.

  “As you wish,” Troy responded with an arched eyebrow. He remained still as a statue, not even a sign of fatigue.

  I delicately stacked every page and carried the lot over to Queen Zielona’s writing desk, a gorgeous dark mahogany piece adorned with gold filigree. I set all the entries down on top of it and carefully placed the collection in a drawer.

  “Are you quite done, Lady Rosalind?” the warrior finally pressed me. Only a pinprick of irritation changed his tone, but it was enough to put a fire under me. I was paying more attention to reading material than to him. I could turn the tide now, though, as I could actually give Troy my full focus.

  “Yeah, yeah!” My voice pounced up an octave. “It’s just that I wanted to make enough room on my bed for the both of us. That okay with you?”

  My suggestion must’ve caught him off guard. Before responding, he cleared his throat, studied me with intensity, and paused for what felt like an eternity.

  “That sounds…” He carefully considered his words. “... more than acceptable. Thank you, Lady Rosalind.”

  A smile spread across my cheeks like warm jam. I enjoyed rendering Troy speechless, and it made me really wonder how else I could get him tongue-tied. With that, I practically skipped to the bed and hopped on the bed, landing on the mattress.

  Troy watched me with curiosity and waited for the bouncing to stop. Maybe it wasn’t the best decision, but I felt pretty damn compelled. All of a sudden, though, the drowsiness hit me. I slouched and looked up at Troy with puppy dog eyes as if apologizing for my silly judgment call.

  He took pity on me and walked over without so much as a guilt trip. He took special care to arrange the breakfast platters all around me, leaving one space for him to sit across from me. I was digging all the options, but I was kind of disappointed that so many dishes were separating us. I wondered if there’d be another opportunity to get him into bed on different terms.

  “You are lovely as ever,” Troy began after he settled into his spot on the bed. I pursed my lips and tilted my head in disbelief. “But I’ve never seen you in such a state. What has gotten into you?”

  That was more like it. I bit my lip to keep back any tears. I was already run ragged, so I wasn’t exactly the picture of composure. Troy was immediately triggered by my reaction, awkwardly handing me a biscuit to cheer me up.

  I blinked and accepted it before taking a generous mouthful. Once I swallowed the buttery delicacy, I was willing to forgive him. Clearly, he wasn’t trying to piss me off.

  “I guess you could say that I fell down a real rabbit hole,” I explained. “I put two and two together, and I know whose room you set me up in. I mean, how can I possibly sleep when I’m occupying the same space where the most legendary Queen Zielona once resided?”

  I grabbed a sausage and tore into it. “So, look, she was this real dynamo, you know?” I spoke between bites, brandishing the meaty link that got smaller with each syllable. “Dangerous as hell but protective as a mother bear.”

  Troy chuckled, his eyes shining with agreement. “Oh, I am well aware, Lady Rosalind. My mother, when she was alive, was an incredible battle maiden and as witty as Bard Pomi, too. She raised me on the lore of skillful dragonesses… Do you mind?” He gestured toward the pile of bacon.

  “Oh, not at all!” I handed him the plate. I felt my hair begin to regain its healthy sheen, my skin freshen up, and the oil on my lips dissipate. Even though the bacon was tempting, I was willing to part with it all. Honestly, I was stoked to bond with someone as obsessed with legends as I was.

  “Thank you kindly,” Troy said before chewing the bacon pensively. When he swallowed, he spoke up again. “While I can certainly appreciate a good story as much as the next soldier, what would have happened if I did not intervene?”

  I smiled as he obvio
usly wanted to protect me. I never really had someone get worried over me before. I guessed I came across as independent.

  “Gee, I don’t know!”

  “Well, I’m worried that you would have laid your enchanted talents to waste simply to read all those pages at once. And would you have been satisfied, or would you have fallen into some madness, seeking out more until you perished?”

  I looked up at him with wide eyes. It still was kind of a joke to me, but he had a point. I probably would’ve starved myself all in the pursuit of more knowledge, especially about kick-ass dragon queens that deserved a second shot at reincarnation.

  “Um… well…” I actually stammered a bit. “I guess I would’ve descended into madness… but for a good cause! And I would’ve had a helluva ride, going out with a bang with my nose in a book.”

  Troy seemed like he wanted to smack his forehead at my response. “You’re just… beyond me,” he announced but without any spite. A hint of humor even shined through his voice. “Fortunately, I will take it upon myself to watch over you and make sure you do not succumb to such an untimely demise. I still cannot fathom it. I will also make you take breaks to walk in the garden, as staying still for so long is not good for your body.”

  “I am glad that you are so keenly interested in my body,” I deadpanned, secretly stirred up and excited by the idea.

  “Yes, of course,” he quickly replied. Observing me must have been perfectly natural to him. After all, he’d snuck into the room with me being none the wiser.

  I cocked my head to the side. Now it felt like it was my turn to ask some questions. “So, I get that you’re concerned that I was cooped up all day, but haven’t you ever been curled up with a good book and lost yourself? I mean, judging by how everyone gathers around Bard Pomi and sings his praises, the Jörmungandr clan must appreciate storytelling, yeah?”