The Rover Princess

by D. E. Kilgore

  Sliding off my chair, I was careful not to put too much pressure on my ankle. It was still sore to walk on, but this was not the first time I had sprained this particular ankle. All thoughts of pain fled my brain as I gazed upon the dress the queen had magically pulled out of the pile of nightmares. It shimmered, iridescent in color, shifting between a pure white and opal. I reached down, sliding my fingers along the swirls of silver threading starting at the shoulders and cascading down the bodice in an hourglass shape. Silver swirls reminiscent of snowflakes decorated the bottom half of the dress. The queen reached over and picked up the dress, breaking its spell over me.

  “Here, I’ll hold while you step in.”

  I silently nodded, still awestruck, helping when I could until the dress was fully on. Turning toward the mirror as the last button in the back was fastened, my jaw went slack at the sight. The queen played with my hair, holding it this way and that as I just gazed at myself. The dress was full length with a tight bodice buttoning up the back. The style was simple but elegant with long tight sleeves that fell off my shoulders. Coupled with a square neckline, a long flowing skirt hitting my ankles perfectly, and a type of material that was akin to silk but much thicker.

  I managed to string some words together. “What material is this? It feels like silk but not.”

  The queen smiled, letting my hair fall. My wild curls slid their way down my shoulders to mid back. “It’s a rare material found only in a pocket dimension deep in the mountain elves territory. There is a creature akin to silkworms which weaves the material. It is then collected and sold on the market once a year.”

  She reached down, grabbing the hem of the gown, and I let out a bewildered gasp as the queen tried to rip the dress.

  I grabbed the perfectly intact fabric from her. “What the crap?”

  Tugging at the hem of the dress, I tried to rip it. Not like my strength could match that of a Dragon, even in humanoid form, but it felt like my mind was playing tricks on me.

  “Oh, look at the time. You have places to be bright and early tomorrow.”

  I jerked my head up as the queen spun me around abruptly and started unbuttoning the dress in a brisk no-nonsense manner. I just stood there flabbergasted as she shoved the silk robe back into my hands, and I shimmied out of the dress as fast as I could. The queen tossed it over a chair.

  “The dress is fine right there. Here take these. You’ll need to read them while you are at the Lagoon tomorrow.”

  I fumbled, grabbing at the two books she shoved into my arms. “The what? Where am I going tomorrow?”

  Dropping the books on the table, I tried to catch up to the queen who seemed to have all but ran out of my room. I hurried into the hall, still tying the robe shut.

  “What is the lagoon!” I yelled after her with no avail.

  Looking around the corridor, I tried to figure out what my next move was, when a yawn overcame me. I shook my head and sighed. Stepping back into my room and closing the door, I gazed longingly at the bed still overflowing with wedding dresses. Deciding it would be too much effort to move them all, I instead curled up on the couch, passing out the second my head hit the pillow.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Small ripples slowly rolled away from our bodies, disappearing into the otherwise still lake, inky black water reflecting the starry night sky. Tilting my head back, a shiver cascaded down my spine as Rafael’s hand slid up and over my shoulder. Water ran down my breasts, and I leaned into his hard chest as he wrapped his hand around my jaw, tilting my head back even farther before leaning down and capturing my mouth with his. The water lapped around us as Rafael’s other arm snaked its way across my waist pulling me tight against him. My muffled moan filled the silent night as his fingers slowly inched their way down my stomach, disappearing into the water. A knock echoed and I growled, breaking my kiss with Rafael, and looked around. The knocking sounded again, louder this time, and from above. Rafael’s grip around my waist loosened, and I turned to find him slowly fading away. Reaching out...

  I bolted upright, fully awake, and pushed all the hair out of my face.

  “I’m coming!” I yelled at the next round of rapping at the door.

  Rubbing my eyes, I glanced in the direction of the window. The horizon was just getting a pinkish tint to it, and I groaned, wanting to fall back to sleep. In the past week I’d had way too many early mornings, and to be honest, I was sick of it. After the ceremony, I was going to make a decree not to be awoken before mid-morning.

  A yawn racked my body, and I readjusted the dressing gown I'd fallen asleep in, covering all my parts. Growling under my breath as the knocking persisted, I stood, forgetting all about my sprained ankle. A dull ache radiated up my lower leg, but it was feeling a little better today, and I was able to cross the room without hobbling. Opening the door tentatively, I was greeted by a solemn-looking guard and a very short older-looking woman.

  I smiled and pushed back my hair once more. “Hello?”

  The woman frowned, jabbing her finger at the dressing gown I was wearing and spoke quickly in a language I couldn’t decipher. Shaking my head, she pushed past me into the room before I could tell her I couldn’t understand what she was saying. She began to go through the standing wardrobe, and I turned to the guard who was leaning against the wall.

  “Well you’re not helpful at all, are you?”

  He mock saluted me as the old woman waved a dress in my direction, mimicking putting on clothing. I sighed in defeat, shut the door in the guard’s face as he started to chuckle, and gently took the dress from the old woman. Not even a minute after I laced up my bodice did the woman grab me by the elbow and lead me out of the room. I was barely able to swipe the books the queen gave me to read off the table as we went by.

  Unsure to what was happening or where we were headed, I glanced down at the old woman leading me down the hallway. She was disconcertingly short and frail looking, but surprisingly strong by the way she was hauling me around. Had she shrunk with age?

  I shook my head, bringing my mind back to the present. She had set a brisk pace for a person with such short legs, and I had to lengthen my stride just to keep up with her.

  “Any chance you could tell me where we’re going?”

  The older woman just smiled up at me and patted my hand. Right. I craned my neck, looking over my shoulder at the guard following behind us. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

  “A little help, please?”

  The guard frowned, flaring his nostrils, but after a few tense seconds, he spoke. “She does not speak the common tongue, just the native words of the mountain.”

  “Can you ask her where we are going? Or what these are?” I held up the books with my free hand.

  The guard grumbled under his breath before speaking louder in what I assumed were the native words of the mountain. The older woman answered back in the same language.

  “We are going to the Lagoon, and my mother says if the queen did not tell you then she will not divulge the books secrets.”

  I stifled a laugh, understanding now why he seemed so uncomfortable, and here I was thinking it was because of me.

  Glancing down at the small frail woman tugging me along, then to the tall, brawny guard, I snickered. “I can see the resemblance.”

  The guard shook his head, but he couldn’t hide the slight upward twitch in his cheek. We reached the end of the hallway abruptly and the old woman halted in front of a double set of doors. I reached out to open them, but she pulled me back, looking expectantly at her son. He made an audible groan but reached around his mother, gripping the door handle. The old woman murmured something, and the guard’s face reddened under his tan skin.

  Smirking in his direction fully understanding the tone of her voice, I giggled and sashayed down the stairs with his mother, leaving the guard to catch up.

  THE LAGOON WAS AN UNDERGROUND cave to be exact, with natural mineral hot springs running throughout it. The Dragons had in turn sta
bilized the cave, cordoning off pools, adding rooms, and essentially turned the cave into a place of relaxing. Seconds after the older woman dropped me off, I was whisked away to get scrubbed, buffed, and shined. After which I was promptly lathered in oil and massaged within an inch of my life. Not that I was complaining, my muscles had never felt so relaxed. Even my displeasure toward Rafael’s actions and yesterday seemed to have all but faded away. I sighed; sinking lower into the biggest and softest floor cushion my body had ever made an acquaintance with. The queen had reserved this room for the whole day, and I was the only one in it. I could have been relaxing in the giant mineral tub next to the fire, but honestly I was more interested in reading the mysterious books I had with me. Of the two books, the one which interested me the most was the smaller, older looking one with worn out wood coverings. The pages were thick and bound together with leather twine. My eye twitched as I glanced at the other one, which was at least three times thicker and was just all around bigger. I sighed, putting the smaller book to the side, deciding to tackle the bigger book first.

  What felt like hours later, I dropped the book down in front of me. I wasn’t even a quarter of the way through and it felt like all tension massaged out of my body today had returned after trying to read this book. I rubbed at my face then glared at the book in front of me. As it turned out the book was about the Mountain Dragon Stronghold history and laws. It was also the dullest book I had ever read in my life. Whoever wrote it was fond of big words and had the smallest, though I will admit neatest, handwriting in all the realms. Stretching out with a groan, I pushed it aside and glanced to the smaller book. Picking it up, I flipped to the first page, stroking my fingers across the fading words. At least whoever wrote this one did so with normal-sized handwriting. Wiggling into the soft cushion, I settled into reading the first page while the fire popped and crackled in the background.

  I left the clan, finding the mountain more to my liking after my husband’s untimely death. A few others have expressed their desire to leave, to make a new life with new laws and a different approach to ruling over the old lands. They want to follow me, and even though I do not feel like the leader they need or deserve, I will do what I must. I will make this new clan strong, I will forge alliances, and I will do it all for him. My precious newborn son. He will not grow up in the world that I did. He will not be put into the role his gender dictates, and when he grows up it will be his choice in whether he wants to rule this new clan after me. One of my followers suggested I name our new clan the Mountain Dragon Stronghold. I like it. I like the word Stronghold because that is what we will be...we will be strong, never faltering and ever loyal to each other.

  I frowned, turning to the next page, sitting up a bit straighter. This was the old history of the Dragons, the Stronghold in the making, and it was written in first person. I turned to the next page then turned it back, rereading the paragraph.

  I was flying over our new territory today. There seemed to be a small band of humans making their residence within the valley, shadowed by the mountain. It was during this discovery when I saw them. A small group of men harassing a young maiden. They never looked up as I dropped down upon them. They scattered, panic flickering across their faces. I expected the maiden to have done the same, running back to her band of humans, to safety. Yet when I turned, she was just standing there, staring at me with the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen in my life. Eyes of dark emerald, cascading into midnight blue with small copper speckles. She reached out hesitantly, as to touch me before realizing what she was doing. Conflicting emotions seemed to cross her face and the weirdest feeling came over me. My Dragon and I did not want this maiden scared of us. We wanted her to like us. Making myself as small as I could by pressing against the ground, I stretched out my neck and head, resting it at her feet. Her face softened and she reached down, running her hands softly across my scales. It seemed like time itself stood still as we gazed into each others eyes.

  “What in the...” I murmured, turning the page.

  I stayed in Dragon form as the maiden seemed unafraid of me and walked her back to her band of humans. They were hesitant, seemingly angry with the maiden, but too scared to express so in front of me. They parted, allowing us through until the maiden hesitated in front of an older man and bowed her head. He spoke to her in a language I was unfamiliar with, but I picked up the tone and bared my teeth. The man stepped back, fear reflecting from within his eyes. The maiden stepped between us, speaking to the man before looking at me. The words were broken, dialect barely passable but I understood the new language she spoke, “Trade...protection.”

  I stared at the fire, wide-eyed, then looked back at the book in my hand. No, that could not be right. Opening the book back up I reread the passage. Holy gods above, this book was in first person. Not only that, but this journal was written by the Dragon who saved the maiden in Sheharla Legend, and it made no sense. The Legend of Sheharla and our history always indicated to a Dragon Prince saving the maiden. It was through this act and union of the two, that the contract came to be but if what I was reading was in fact first-person account, it meant there was no Dragon Prince. It was a Dragon Queen. I stared dumbfounded at the fire, then shook my head, flipping the book back open.

  Hours later, I snapped the book shut with an audible click as I finished the last page. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, but it was a cross between confusion and anger. Sighing, I rubbed my temples with my fingers. This book was something else. No, not a book. It was a journal; a firsthand account from the first ruler of the Stronghold and how the Stronghold came to be along with the other Dragon Clans. It had ended as suddenly as it started, and I wondered if this journal was just one in a series. My hands itched to get ahold of them. I wanted to learn more, more about the contract, the Dragon war and a mythical fifth clan only briefly mentioned. I had a good feeling the answers were in the dullest book in existence though, which I had cast aside. I glared at the book; okay maybe I wasn’t that curious. From what I could gather from the journal, the Dragon clans in this realm cast off some particularly nasty Dragons into another realm. The resulting aftermath between the humans of that realm and those Dragons was not pretty. It had given rise to the realm in question, forming families of Hunters and ultimately becoming known as Djarh, another term for warriors or hunters. Which made me all the more curious about the Hunter Nehi had mentioned along with her Siren. I shook my head from all the information rolling around in my brain. The journal didn’t mention anything about human royals having to marry Dragon royals in the contract, which was confusing. Knowing my family, they probably added that tidbit to the contract, then forgot about it; blaming the Dragons like usual. I chewed on my bottom lip. The writer of the journal was not a fan of the contract but went along with it for my ancestor, the human maiden. What was supposed to be temporary lasted generations, continually held in place by the people of Sheharla. The writer had gone into detail about the Four Dragon Clans, before mentioning another clan, referred to as the Mystics. What piqued my interest the most was when learning the history of the Dragon Clans back in Sheharla, I never came across any mention of a fifth clan. I groaned, shaking my head. This was too much information to process. What I needed to do was get out of this cave and into some outside air.

  I struggled, trying to get out of the now massive pain in my ass cushion. It took a few minutes, but eventually I flung myself to the floor and glared at the cushion. I made a mental note to never sit in another one of those cushions again, no matter how soft and comfortable they were. Reaching down, I gathered up the books and looked around realizing I had no clothes in this room except for the bathing robe I was wearing. I also had no clue to where the dress I'd worn to the Lagoon had run off to. Well, that was awkward.

  Tip toeing to the door and cracking it open, I looked left then right. The corridor was dimly lit, and no one was around. Deciding to try my luck I snuck out, shutting the door carefully behind me.

  Chapter Fifteen

/>   I frowned, scrutinizing a wall. This was the second hallway leading to a dead end. Normally I was great with remembering trails and directions, but with everything happening in the past week, my mind was mush today. I grimaced as a slow ache burned its way up my ankle and calf. There was also that. Reaching down, I rubbed at my sore ankle. It had started acting up a few minutes ago. Guess the sprain was a little worse off than I’d thought. I had dealt with worse, though. Turning around and mentally shrugging off the pain, a smile slipped across my lips, thinking back to that eventful day.

  The blades of sunlight painted my walls, moving slowly to the floor as the sun shifted. I sighed, picking at the blanket laying across my lap. Here I was, stuck indoors on a gorgeous day. Honestly though, it was my fault. I knew better than to try berry picking this early in the season. Yet my thoughts had been elsewhere, on someone else to be exact. He had introduced himself as Rafael the day I put the elven teens in their place. A chuckle bubbled up my throat. They’d left the clearing later that evening without so much as a goodbye. Apparently their pilgrimage did not include helping a young woman in the woods who could kick their asses. Rafael had smirked and waved goodbye to them from the table in my small cabin. Shaking my head and letting the memory float away, I slowly got out of my chair with a groan. Yup, I was lucky to be alive, and all because I wanted to bake a pie. See, the thing was Rafael had stayed a night before leaving. I thought that was going to be the last time I saw him, but he came back the following month... and then the next. He was back once a month like clockwork, and who was I kidding, I was starting to grow feelings for my reoccurring traveler. He was a bit of a flirt and quite good-looking. We would stay up on the nights he found himself on my cabin stoop, talking until the early mornings. He had let it slip one of those nights that he was quite fond of berry pie. I hobbled over to the oven and stoked the fire underneath it. Well, the pie was almost done. At least I made it out of the ravine with what I’d come for. Taking a shallow breath, my stomach rolled as pain racked my ribs. Yes, it had been stupid to go into the ravine this time of the year, but that was where the best Cloudberry bushes grew. I had already harvested enough Tayberries and Salmonberries. Those ones where easy enough to find this time of year, but I really wanted those Cloudberries and there was only one place to get them. I could have waited until next month, but the chances of any berries still being on the bush would be slim. Instead of waiting, I took my chances and crossed the big ravine, harvesting a sizable portion of the berries. Surprisingly, it turned out well; well, until I headed back. That was when everything went sideways, and I stumbled upon a pack of wild goats. My lip curled in distain. They liked to come down from the mountains early in the season and would strip the Cloudberry bushes until they were bare. Knowing others who had run-ins with wild goats, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I’d turned tail and ran for it. The goats hated any type of humanoid creature and predictably gave chase. As luck would have it, I tripped, tumbling hard into the ravine. Even luckier for me, the water level was low enough for a human to wade through but high enough to bar the wild goats from coming after me. They had bleated and stomped their hooves, but left me alone to sort out my business in the end. But hey, I had made it out with the berries.