Romance: The Campus Player: A College Romance

by Caroline Lake

  The Black Rose prince raised his blade to deliver the final blow. He huffed in surprise when Gissandra lunged onto his back, grabbing his sword hand from behind. Kiraz slumped to the floor, and she and the prince staggered backwards.

  “Foolish girl, do you want to die as well?” The prince roughly elbowed Gissandra in the ribs, causing her to exclaim in pain, though she still clung to the sword arm for dear life.

  Finally, the prince threw her off, and she landed nearby Kiraz.

  “I’m sorry, princess…” he whispered. “I wish we could have had longer…”

  “Me, too.” Tears built up behind Gissandra’s eyelids, but they did not spill.

  Ardemar opened his mouth to speak.

  “Meow.”

  Giss stared into the murderous prince’s face, which had contorted in bafflement.

  “Meow.”

  He tried to speak, but all that came out was the meow sound. To Gissandra’s utter astonishment, even as she and Kiraz lay there, bleeding and broken, she witnessed the prince’s form shrink, and boil.

  He disappeared in a clang of armor smacking the ground, along with the sword and various enchantments he had worn, and the malevolent black object tucked in his palm. Then, crawling from the full body chest-plate, came a tiny black kitten, with white petal paws.

  “Meow,” it said.

  Balon unpeeled himself from the corner, even as Giss blinked in disbelief.

  Kiraz wheezed, blood seeping through his hand. “Balon. What in the thousand kingdoms was in that cauldron?”

  The blue dragon crouched. “My cat potion. I was planning to turn all the rats in the caves into cats. I had no idea it affected humans.” Smoke simmered from his mouth.

  Gissandra immediately snatched the tiny kitten. “No.”

  Kiraz and Balon glared. “No?” Balon hissed. “This filthy creature killed two noble dragons. A third may die.”

  “He’s a kitten. We don’t kill kittens.” She squashed the kitten tight against her chest. It made squeaking noises. “Can you save Kiraz or not?”

  Balon, eyes bulging indignantly, examined Kiraz’s wound and growled. “Wait here. I have something.”

  Balon strode out of the room, about eight cats trailing behind him. The black kitten continued mewing pitifully against Gissandra’s chest.

  She placed one hand on Kiraz’s brow. “Is it bad?”

  In response, Kiraz revealed his stomach. “It’s not too deep. But it damn well hurts.”

  Relief scraped through her. A tiny bunny hopped past them, resembling the white ball of fluff that had peeled off Kiraz earlier.

  Several things clicked into place. “Is that a werebunny?” Gissandra asked. Kiraz, slightly dazed, followed Gissandra’s finger to the bunny that hopped away from them.

  “Yes.”

  “Well. At least we now know where they come from. Also, this itches.” Gissandra took out the lucky rabbit’s foot.

  Kiraz shook his head, and sighed.

  Chapter Six: Gissandra’s Evening Date

  Several weeks had passed since Count Ardemar’s attempt to “rescue” Gissandra. Balon was still as grumpy as ever, but he allowed Gissandra into his cave to play with the cats whenever she got bored. Brendag lived from the thrown dagger – it was only fatal to the touch for dragons. As for Kiraz – Balon’s healing tonic helped him survive the worst of his injuries, with the astute promise that Kiraz and Gissandra never told anyone else about his cowardice. Giss promised, but not without some ill-concealed laughter, and bullying him to teach her on how to make the cat potion.

  Ardemar, still an adorable ball of fur, nestled up in Gissandra’s lap, having just been fed some milk and small chunks of fish. Ardemar the kitten certainly possessed a better temperament than Ardemar the Black Rose prince. She wondered how news was being taken in the kingdoms, when the prince failed to return.

  Something had happened, since the pool of knights battling to the top of the mountain to rescue her had all but dried up, following Ardemar’s “defeat.”

  “Who would have thought? All it took was a sadistically evil and powerful prince to stop the others from trying. Isn’t that right?” Gissandra cooed, tickling the sleepy kitten under his chin.

  Also running around the chambers were several little werebunnies, whom Gissandra had not yet let out. She wanted to test her theory with Kiraz, that each time he transformed from a dragon into a human, a werebunny popped into existence. It explained why werebunnies seemed to like dragons so much, and why Kiraz associated with them, even going so far to be a Godfather to a flock of the creatures.

  Gissandra grinned as Kiraz entered the chambers, wearing a very respectable suit, complete with an elasticated bow-tie, with a tweed threaded jacket and pants. Gissandra petted Ardemar’s head, and the kitten purred with the contact.

  “Brendag recommended the bow-tie,” Kiraz said, clearly uncomfortable with it. He stopped to examine Gissandra from head to toe. Garbed in a shrouded orange dress, with her hair tied back, Gissandra looked the closest to her heritage that she ever had in months. White gloves lay on the side, taken off so she could pet the kitten. “It seems a shame to wear these, as they’re too fine for everyday use.”

  “It’s no shame. I’ve only ever seen you in scruffy rags, or without anything. It makes a change to see you look like, well… a prince.” Gissandra beamed, feasting upon the sight of the immaculately dressed and groomed Kiraz. “If you weren’t actually a dragon, my parents would be swooning over this. My sisters would probably gouge out my eyes and defile my face so you chose them instead.”

  “Wow. They sound delightful.”

  Gissandra placed Ardemar on the chair, taking care to not wake him up, put on her elbow length gloves, before holding out her arm to Kiraz. He interweaved his arm with hers, taking a deep, nervous breath. Although his body language showed how out of place he felt with the clothes, he relaxed better once they both strode forwards to the kitchen area, and to the cave entrance. Outside, dusk settled upon their world, leaving a blanket of stars in the dark sky. A soft breeze ruffled through the clearing, smooth and coated with specks of dust and ash. Two werebunnies escaped from the open door, bouncing off towards the mountain path.

  “They always leave.” Gissandra frowned sadly.

  “They must go to their people.” Kiraz struck an overdramatic pose. “To the magical werebunny land.”

  “Idiot.” She cuffed him on his head. “So where are we going? What surprise do you have lined up?”

  Kiraz kissed her on the forehead, and gestured over to a distant mountain. “Over there. There’s a nice spot there that is unburnt. We’re also highly unlikely to be disturbed.”

  Gissandra grinned evilly. “That’s good. We might be causing a fair bit of disturbance.”

  Kiraz moved away from her, bursting into dragon form. “Ride me.”

  “Oh. Gladly.” Giss waited until Kiraz bowed his frilled head towards her, and she eased her way onto it. As she settled more comfortably behind the frill, she found a rather pleasant sensation between her thighs, if she discreetly rocked forwards, with the flimsy material that protected her from being naked.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Kiraz growled, as he trotted, wings unfurling. “Please wait until we have at least reached the destination before any extra shenanigans occur.”

  “You might need to fly fast, then,” Giss suggested.

  She whooped in delight when Kiraz launched into the air, gigantic wings latching onto wind currents. They ghosted through the night, the cold wind screaming on either side as Kiraz picked up speed, hurtling for the destination planned. Gissandra held onto his horns, glad for the gloves acting as an extra shield against the chill. In the peeks she managed over the beat of Kiraz’s wings, she saw the kingdoms below lit up by a myriad of different lights, some yellow, some orange. From this vantage point, she couldn’t see Avelon, but wondered what the dark prince’s kingdom appeared like from so high, as it entwined with mountains and lakes at the very h
eart of the world.

  The area Kiraz intended loomed closer. Trees and flowers swam into vision, along with the snake lines of rivers, and the lush green forests, untouched by humans or dragons.

  When Kiraz touched down, he did it delicately, letting Gissandra down onto loamy earth, blooming with flowers. He transformed into a human, the white fluff of a newly created werebunny floating behind him, and gave her time to acclimatize to the new environment.

  Willow trees leaned over a small pond, lit up by the golden glow of fireflies on the branches and the trees. Logs coated in moss and colorful flowers decorated a small but vibrant expanse of nature. They could see a view of Jaeland below through a bowl-like perspective past the trees. Dirt tracks, perhaps made by deer, led out of the glade.

  “Okay. This is amazing.” Gissandra crouched down to pluck a blue flower from the selection offered, and smelled it. “You sure know how to please a lady.”

  Kiraz grinned, flopping down nearby the lake on a soft patch of moss. “I planted the willow trees here, long ago, and watched them grow. Jaeland at the time was a newly established kingdom, and only a few lights could be seen. It has grown and flourished like the trees.”

  Gissandra joined him, lying down beside him, admiring the scenery, his clothes, his reminiscent expression. “Is it strange? Remembering things how they used to be, and seeing them as they are now?”

  “Not really. Everything changes. I planted the seeds with that knowledge. Now, Giss. Tell me. How do you feel?”

  “I feel fine. Happy. Privileged, even.” Gissandra took in a deep breath, absorbing the scents of the plants around her.

  Kiraz tapped his fingers on the moss, dissatisfied. “You don’t talk so much about your life back in Jaeland. When you do, it’s always something flippant or derogatory, regarding those that you have spent your entire life with. I know you came to these mountains to escape from them, but don’t you miss them at all? Explain to me, princess.” Kiraz stroked her across the cheek, amber eyes gentle.

  Giss sighed, feeling at that moment the weight of all eighteen years of her life, the way blood moved in her body with every heart pump. “It’s really not that much to say, Kiraz. I was raised a spoiled princess, with all the right ingredients for a happy life. I had riches, clothes, and was famous without even trying. However, something was missing. I didn’t know what it was, or why I noticed it more astutely than the people around me. They would say to stop being stupid and just accept what’s been handed to me on a plate.”

  The dragon nodded, still stroking her cheek with one thumb. “Go on.”

  Gissandra gathered her frayed thoughts together, trying to pinpoint the distant, unexplainable urge inside. “I found a word for the feeling, once, thanks to the court philosopher. ‘Monachopsis’; a persistent feeling of being out of place, detached with the world. I had everything materialistically. But I didn’t have anything here.” She tapped her heart. “So you could throw me all the sparkling things the world had to offer, and all I really wanted was to have a normal conversation with someone. To share moments with people – to be able to love what I did and strove for, rather than love the status my luck had given me.”

  Kiraz smiled. “So you wanted something more simple. Happiness.”

  “The age old dream,” Gissandra agreed, mimicking the expression. “I tried striking up friendships with the servants. They taught me more about their values, though when they started getting executed for going along with my curiosity too much, I stopped. I had a puppy, but when it peed on the royal throne, it disappeared the next day. When I sought an education because I didn’t understand or like the idea of just making myself beautiful and sitting around doing nothing – like my sisters – each and every lesson eventually got cancelled. Then, when I was told I would be forcibly married off to a halfwit prince, I basically lost it. Next thing you know; I’m hitched up with a shapeshifting dragon. Funny how life turns out.”

  “Indeed. I’m fairly glad you turned up practically on my doorstep. I still can’t get over Balon’s reaction.” Kiraz chuckled.

  “So in answer to your question of missing them; I really don’t. The luxuries, sure. But my family, no. I know I should feel bad about that, but I don’t, and I don’t care. It’s just how it is. I’m happier here than I ever was back there, so there is no challenge.” Gissandra kissed Kiraz on the lips, lingering in the taste of them for a moment. “Tell me a little more about yourself. Since I’ve spilled out most of my incredibly tragic and exciting life story to you.”

  Kiraz reciprocated the kiss, threading fingers through her hair. He broke apart.

  “I’ll tell you a little bit, princess, as you wish.” He fell silent for a moment, flitting through his memories. When he spoke, it was with solemn gravity. “I’ve seen many things, princess, in the land of monsters. Wars between humans, wars between the creatures of the wilderness. Dragons do not have the human type of rearing. We are born as part of a brood, and there can be several hatchlings in one batch. We do not form close bonds with our parents, or each other. We’re encouraged to strike off from the nest and either form our own territory, or join a clan, especially if we’re male, since we cannot mate with our sister hatchlings. The female hatchlings – of which there are more – they often remain with the brood they were born in. Young male dragons are always arriving and leaving. There are about ten main clans, and a lot of smaller ones. I joined with Harkrul’s clan. His is one of the smallest ‘main’ clans around, but the most peaceful, since the lands around the peaks are barely touched.”

  “How long did you know Harkrul for?”

  “A long time, princess. He groomed an heir to replace him, of course. He is called Kazan. Kazan is young, but he has some innovative ideas.”

  Gissandra frowned. “So where are all the other dragons of this clan? Because I think I’ve only seen a tiny fragment of it.”

  “We’re spread all along the mountain range, princess. I shall introduce you to the broodmothers and fathers at some point. I think you will be surprised.” Kiraz’s hand drifted to Gissandra’s exposed shoulders, trailing warmth.

  “Have you loved, before?”

  “Twice. Once with a dragon, and once with a princess, a long time ago. Both are dust, now. The princess was the reason I chose to learn transformation magic.”

  Gissandra smiled. “Tell me about them.”

  “They are stories for another time, Gissandra. I am sure you will enjoy hearing them, but right now, I wish to be in the present. With you. With a strange little princess who made it her destiny to run off with a dragon and help accidentally turn one of the evilest humans of the thousand kingdoms into a cute kitten.”

  A sly smile crept onto Gissandra’s face. “I can work with that.” Curiosity simmered within – she wanted to envision Kiraz’s past, how dragons interacted with each other, understand more how their brains worked, since they were every bit as intelligent as a human. “Monster” suggested they were less. Something that existed on pure instinct, and sought a path of destruction. The definition needed to be reinvented.

  Kiraz connected with Giss’s lips, hooking his arms under her shoulders to drag her close. Her dress rustled over the flowers as she wedged one leg in-between his, and she grasped his face with gloved hands. With closed eyes, she indulged into the kiss, adapting to the way Kiraz moved, following and intensifying the motions. If he kissed slow, she did the same, with feather-light touches. If he deepened it, she parted her mouth so their tongues contacted.

  The tranquil setting of the tiny glade relaxed Gissandra, gladdened her heart, both with the concept that such a place existed, and that Kiraz went out of his way to bring her here, to something he tended to with his own hands. She scoured her palms over the tweed jacket, encouraging Kiraz to extract himself out of it, so it puddled up on the flowers behind. A firefly hovered nearby.

  Snatching breaks from their kissing, they got to work on exploring each other’s bodies underneath their garments, keeping them on to increase t
he sensual impact.

  Out of all the things Giss might have seen for herself in the future, falling in love dwelled at the bottom of the list. Yet, she entertained the possibility now of love. Not being an expert in the matter, she couldn’t conclude her feelings for the dragon.

  All she knew was that she didn’t want him to go away. Ever. Or to stop doing this. It had been real, crushing fear when Ardemar turned his blade onto Kiraz, that she would witness him die in front of her, and flooding relief when the threat resolved itself.

  And now… taking the action up a notch, she fumbled with the buttons of Kiraz’s long-sleeved shirt, flicking them one by one. Kiraz groped Gissandra’s dress, trying to find the place where it came undone.

  “How does this even work?” He muttered, stopping their kissing to concentrate hard. “I have half a mind to just tear the silly thing off.”

  Gissandra shook with silent laughter. “There’s buttons on the side… no, not that one… yes. You found it!”

  “They’re so tiny! How do you humans force yourselves into these?”

  Still shaking with mirth, Gissandra clapped when Kiraz finally popped out the last button, allowing him to tug the dress off by shimmying it down her body. All that remained on her were transparent tights, and silk panties. Kiraz’s bare chest remained partially shielded by his shirt – and his tweed pants were still firmly attached on.

  “We need to do something about that.” Gissandra’s voice lowered, adopting sultry undertones. She unsubtly started tugging at his pants.

  “See? What’s the point in wearing nice clothes if they’re just going to be torn off anyway?” Kiraz exclaimed, as he positioned himself for Giss to peel off the pants, revealing his partially aroused member.

  “Think of it like food presentation. If it looks tasty, then you’re going to enjoy eating it a lot more.”