by Lea Doué
Baz and Vanda joined them right away. Vanda warmly embraced Neylan and Mara as if they were old friends, not people she had just met the night before. Her messenger dragon clung to her shoulder as if accustomed to such jostling.
Vanda linked arms with Neylan, the two of them lighting up the clearing in head-to-toe red. “It’s so exciting to finally be able to put faces to the people I’ve only written to for so many months.”
Having grown up on the run with Gram and her father, trying to find a community willing to accept the presence of the former sorceress, Vanda had been unable to read or write when Mel first met her. Mel had insisted Vanda pen her own letters, and her writing had slowly improved with each one.
“Perhaps you could keep writing to some of my sisters,” Neylan said. “So you don’t get out of practice.”
“I’d like that.”
Baz held out his arm for Mara. “Let’s divide and conquer, shall we?” He led her off down a rose-bordered lane to mingle and make introductions with those wandering the gardens.
“Meet you back here in half an hour,” Mel said as she and Orin headed down another garden path.
Neylan wouldn’t put it past them to find a secluded spot and hide until the chosen time.
Vanda glanced at the remaining two exits, one of which led back to the garden manor, and then guided Neylan between two swan topiaries next to the gazebo. “I guess we’ll go this way.” A note of worry entered her voice. “I’m terrible with all the names, but I’ll try to introduce you to as many people as I can.”
“I can teach you a trick to remember them, if you’d like.”
“Can you? Mel tried, but she’s—”
“Not good with names, either,” Neylan finished with her.
Vanda laughed, but the next moment, her smile vanished. She whispered, “Can we start now?”
A couple approached with an expectant look, both the lady and the gentleman wearing the brightest apple red Neylan had ever seen. She suppressed a smile and allowed Vanda to take the lead. To their credit, the couple gave Vanda’s dragon, Fleet, only a passing glance, as messengers were not an uncommon sight around a palace with a rookery.
Neylan and Vanda practiced memory tricks in between meeting a dozen more couples, who had thankfully spread out among all the garden lanes rather than bunching up to meet the visiting princesses en masse. Neylan much preferred this method of introductions to a ball or formal dinner.
As a couple of grey-haired sisters with steely eyes took their leave, their whispers carried through the thick rhododendron shielding them from sight. “…two dragon girls at once… wouldn’t have seen it in my day…”
Neylan’s eyebrows rose as she exchanged a look with Vanda. Apparently, she hadn’t escaped the nickname after all, though she wasn’t the only “dragon girl” anymore. The thought brought forth an unexpected bubble of laughter as well as a twinge of guilt, remembering the curse that had given Vanda their shared nickname.
“If Mel has her way,” Neylan said, “there will be lots of dragon girls and dragon boys before long. All the kingdoms will be filled with messenger dragons.”
As if in acknowledgment of the reference, Fleet perked up and squawked. Wist woke at the noise and crawled on top of Neylan’s head, where he spread his tiny wings to catch the sun. The couple who had been headed towards them averted their eyes and veered off onto another path.
Messenger dragons were one thing, but poisonous aconites were an entirely different matter.
“Let’s rest for a moment before we head back.” Neylan pulled Vanda into a shaded alcove and sat on a bench underneath an enthusiastically-draping willow. “I’m impressed with Fleet’s behavior. Most messengers find it difficult to sit still for so long.”
“Mel’s a good teacher. Plus, we fed them well before the party.”
“Ah, yes. Full bellies are key.” She plucked Wist off her head and placed him on the back of the bench. “Has she taught you any whistles yet?”
“Whistles?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Neylan chuckled. “I thought not. She can’t whistle, but I can teach you a few of the simpler commands.”
“Have you taught Wist?” Vanda held her hand out, palm up, and Wist climbed aboard.
Far from acting jealous, Fleet tiptoed down Vanda’s arm like a cat on a branch to have a closer look, his long tail extended for balance.
“I’ve taught him some things, but I don’t know how long he’ll stay with me before he’s ready to go off on his own again.” He’d stayed longer than any other garden dragon she’d nursed back to health. She tried not to think of him as a pet, but some days he made it difficult.
Vanda bit her lip. “I still have so much to learn. Baz is wonderful, but his days are so full of meetings and such that we don’t get as much time together as we’d like. Hopefully that will change after our own wedding.”
“I’m here to help you any way I can.” Hoping to coax another smile from her, Neylan scooped Fleet onto her knees. “Did you know messengers are ticklish?”
“They are?” Vanda leaned close, dark eyes wide. “Where?”
She flipped Fleet onto his back and scratched his belly. His wings drooped on either side of her lap, draping against the skirt petals, and his tongue lolled out. Taking one of his feet, she splayed out his toes and gently stroked between two of them.
Fleet let out a series of coughing chirps and rolled onto the ground.
Vanda giggled. “Did he just laugh?”
A chuckle from the shadows told them they had an audience. Fleet faced the intruder, squawked in recognition, and flew up to his shoulder.
A black-skinned man stepped out from behind a clump of willow branches. Keir. No one else would fit the description Mel had given her.
Keir stroked Fleet’s back, but his gaze was all for Neylan.
Her heart raced. He was taller than she’d imagined, over six feet, with broad shoulders that looked like they’d rather not be confined within his formal tunic. He looked at her the way Mel looked at her maps when trying to memorize every line and curve.
Neylan stood and took a few steps towards him before realizing she’d moved. Up close, his skin proved to be as dark as it had first appeared from a distance, and every inch of him, from his bald head and smooth jaw, to his neck and the backs of his hands, was covered with pale crescent-shaped scars like a dragon’s scales. The way the light and shadows played over his skin revealed shades of obsidian and coal and ash, with icy undertones. She’d never seen anything like it. How much of it was natural, and how much came from being cursed into the form of a black dragon?
She craned her neck to look into his dark eyes, with no memory of stepping closer.
He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.
Vanda stepped into view, and Neylan tore her gaze away.
“Princess Neylan of Ituria, may I present Master Healer Keir of Mazereon.”
Wist flew over and landed on Neylan’s braid, peeking at him over her ear.
“And her aconite dragon, Wist,” Vanda said.
Neylan grinned at the additional introduction.
Keir’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and he bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Highness.” He held his finger out to Wist, who stretched his neck out for a scratch.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Master Keir.” Neylan held out her arm for Fleet, whose toes were digging into Keir’s shoulder, and then handed him over to Vanda.
“We should join the others in the main clearing,” Vanda said. “Will you walk with us?”
“Of course.”
A dragonfly whizzed by, and Fleet took to the air after it.
“Drat that dragon!” Vanda said, as she broke into a jog after him. “You two go on without me. I’ll join you as soon as I can!”
Wist, excited by Fleet’s quick departure, flapped in excitement and jumped from Neylan’s hair, but his foot became entangled. He ended up dangling upside down at her neck. Not the le
ast bothered, he let his wings and tail flop and gave a resigned chirp, trusting in Neylan to rescue him.
She reached around to free him, but she couldn’t see what she was doing and ended up making things worse. Finally, she squinted up at Keir and gestured to her dragon. “Would you be so kind as to untangle my dragon?”
He hurried to her side. “Oh, um… of course, Your Highness.” He paused. “Does he bite?”
“No. He doesn’t spit, either.” After treating Wist’s wing, she knew firsthand the damage an aconite dragon could inflict with its acid-like venom. “And please call me Neylan. Surely we’ve grown past courtly titles, after all these months of writing.”
“As you wish… Neylan.” His hands moved gently as he worked to free Wist’s feet. “I’ve never seen an aconite this close. I wouldn’t have thought they would make good pets.”
“Wist isn’t exactly a pet. I saved his life, and he chose to stay with me. He’s free to leave whenever he wants.”
After a moment, he said, “There.”
Sitting on Keir’s palm, Wist chirped twice and then flew off to chase ladybugs on a nearby yellow dock plant.
Neylan smiled. “He said, ‘thank you’.”
Keir stared at her so long her face heated. Was he as fascinated at finally seeing her as she was at seeing him?
“You have a…” He reached towards her face, hesitated, and then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. It came loose.”
Her fingers traced the path his had taken, and she cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
He held out his arm. “To the party?”
“Oh, yes. We should… go.”
Wist flew a couple of circles around them before landing on Neylan’s head. His talons pricked her scalp like the teeth of a comb. After tiptoeing for a few moments, he sprawled out on his back with his wings flopping down around her ears and his tail trailing down the back of her neck. His snout rested near her hairline above her forehead.
Keir watched until Wist stopped moving. “Is he all right?”
“He’s sunning himself.”
Keir grinned, and then a quick burst of laughter escaped before he schooled his expression to mostly serious again. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…” He trailed off as if not sure what to say without causing offense.
“I know. It’s not every day you see a princess with a dragon on her head.”
His lips worked hard to hold back another laugh.
She smiled. “That’s better than the reaction I usually get.”
As if to prove her point, a gentleman heading their way took one look at the odd trio, and then abruptly turned around and retreated before them.
Keir laughed again, a low, warm rumble.
Neylan didn’t mind missing out on yet another introduction.
As they walked, they chatted about her travels, but Neylan missed a few of his questions while focusing on the sound of his voice, deep and gravelly. The kind of voice that could easily command a room. The kind of voice that belonged to someone who’d been in the skin of a black dragon.
Back at the clearing, Neylan shifted Wist from her head onto her shoulder as they maneuvered around a few couples who had turned one corner of the space into a dance floor. Keir managed a few introductions, and then they joined two red-gowned young ladies at one of the refreshment tables. He averted his eyes as though he would ignore them, but Neylan pulled him into the conversation until, finally, Baz and Mara returned.
Mel and Orin had yet to reappear.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” Keir said, “I have a matter to discuss with the king.” He bowed, gave Neylan a lingering look, and then swiftly left them.
Neylan guessed the matter of discussion was less important than getting away from the small talk. “If you will excuse me as well, I have a matter to discuss with my sister.”
As she walked away, she caught a few words the ladies muttered about Keir: —“quiet, a skilled healer, tragically scarred.”
Tragically scarred. Code for “not marriageable” among court ladies. Well, all the better for her.
Mara waded through a sea of red to join her. “Did you meet any promising ladies during your walk?”
She frowned. Mara knew how she felt about Keir, but her sister was convinced breaking the curse wouldn’t be that easy. “I wasn’t looking.”
“Hmm, well, those two didn’t look too pleased with your company, but I’m not sure if it was Keir or you.” She eyed Wist pointedly.
“Don’t start. If other ladies can carry around yapping lap dogs, I can carry a tiny little dragon. He’s hardly noticeable.”
“He’s like a purple wart on your shoulder.”
Neylan rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored the comment.
A commotion near the gazebo caused one of the violinists to miss a few notes, but she recovered quickly as a gentleman rushed past carrying a whimpering child. Neylan recognized him as a baron she’d met earlier.
Keir stepped away from the king, took the boy from the baron’s arms without a word, and carried him to a bench situated along the hedges. Mara and Baz hung back, but Neylan followed, recognizing the pale, raised welts on the boy’s tanned skin.
Any number of garden plants could cause such a reaction, but the most likely culprit was stinging nettles. She’d come into contact with the bothersome things numerous times herself over the years when picking herbs from the healer’s garden.
“I’m appalled you have such dangerous plants in the gardens,” the baron said. “Appalled! My son shouldn’t have to endure such an ordeal.”
Neylan lifted an eyebrow and stared him down. He dared speak of nettles as an ordeal in front of Keir?
The baron swallowed but lifted his chin defiantly.
Keir’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t even look at the man.
The boy, who appeared to be around seven or eight, sniffled as Keir inspected his face and hands closely. He gulped once or twice as if swallowing a sob.
“Spying on the party, were you?” Keir spoke softly to the boy. “Did any of your friends get into the nettles?”
Wide-eyed, the boy shook his head.
Keir whispered. “I was a boy once, too. We’ll have you mended in no time.” He looked over his shoulder and spotted Neylan. “Do you remember where the yellow dock grew?”
The plant Wist had been playing in. “It’s near the willow.”
“Could you fetch me some of the leaves? If you remember how to get there.”
Again, the boy stared wide-eyed, but this time at Neylan. No doubt he’d never had a princess fetch a cure for him.
She gave him a wink and smiled when his jaw dropped. “It’s not far. I’ll be right back.”
When she returned, Keir was rinsing the boy’s hands with water from a centerpiece vase. The red roses lay discarded at his feet.
She presented the yellow dock leaves, which she’d crushed in her palms to release the juices. “Hands first, or face?”
Keir stared at her as if she’d spoken gibberish, and then a pleased glint entered his eyes. “His hands got the worst of it. I’ll treat his face in my workroom.”
Neylan knelt beside the boy and smoothed the lumpy leaf paste over his palms and the backs of his hands. Wist jumped from her shoulder onto his knee and tried to help, but he couldn’t resist the aroma and stuffed a handful of the makeshift ointment into his mouth.
The boy smiled.
Keir retrieved the roses from the ground. He stared at them for a second, cleared his throat, and then held them out to Neylan, saying, “Thank you.”
She took the flowers, her hands still sticky from the herbal paste. “You’re welcome.”
Keir addressed the baron for the first time. “Follow me, if you please.” He helped the boy up and led him out of the clearing. Before he disappeared from view, he glanced over his shoulder at Neylan.
She waved, and then the baron blocked him from view.
After cleaning her hands with the remaining
vase water, she tucked one of the roses into her hair and handed out the rest to the ladies in the clearing so that no one would think Keir had singled her out. No need to start rumors prematurely.
The party stretched into the evening. She eventually found Mel and Orin and dragged them back to the clearing. Mel blamed their absence on Hunter and Jade, but Neylan took one look at the dragons snoozing on their shoulders and knew better.
“If I get one more ‘congratulations,’ I’ll scream,” Mel said. “I just want this to be over with.”
“Hey, I’m standing right here.” Orin’s lopsided grin assured them that his annoyance was only feigned.
Mel rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“It’ll all be over with tomorrow. In the meantime, if you want to avoid talking to people, then dance with me.” Without waiting for a response, he led her into the throng of dancers across the clearing.
Neylan sighed. She’d been hoping for more time with her sister, but at least she got to see Mel once more before she ran off again. And took Mara with her. For the first time in her life, Neylan would be without any of her sisters.
Since Keir hadn’t returned yet, she wandered out of the party clearing and strolled aimlessly, the garden paths arranged more haphazardly than those back home. Hopefully, the baron wouldn’t try to cause trouble for Keir. Nettles growing elsewhere besides the healer’s garden were not his fault. They were just nettles. She passed a couple of guards and a few other wanderers. Violins hummed a gentle lullaby, and, although she saw none of the musicians’ gazebos, she spied a handful of couples dancing to the music. She discovered a lily pond and sat on the stone wall at the edge.
Dipping her hands in the cool water, she rinsed off the residual stickiness from the yellow dock that clung between her fingers. Not wanting to ruin the petal gown, she let her hands drip dry on the stones.
Wist crawled down her arm and sat on the embroidered cuff bracelet she’d worn on her wrist since leaving home. No doubt hoping to practice his new skills of tying and untying, he picked at the green silk ribbon lacing it closed. Embroidered with moonflowers, the ribbon had arrived just days before she left for Mazereon with a badly-scrawled note that simply said, “My dearest, I hope you will wear it always.”