by Sera Trevor
Castle Gumptar was much smaller than Strengsend and far less magnificent, but the relaxed atmosphere more than made up for the fewer material comforts. Jasen felt as if he could breathe, and it wasn’t just because he no longer was wearing a corset. He’d spent a lot of time here as a child—his mother had been a favorite of the queen’s. In a way, it seemed homier than home. Jasen and his father were so isolated in their dilapidated old castle in Hagas. Gumptar, while not very grand, was well-kept and well-attended, with people who Jasen had known from childhood.
Jasen joined the queen for a walk in the courtyard. The day was nice, if a bit muggy. Some children were playing with Hogort, the queen’s enormous pet hog, squealing like piglets themselves.
“Do you remember Borgus?” the queen asked him.
“Of course I do.” Borgus had been her pet when Jasen was a child. “I remember riding her around the courtyard, just like that,” he said, gesturing to the children. “I always had fun.”
“You were her favorite, I think. You were such a scrawny little thing, but tough, and you never pulled her tail. She was a good hog. Of course, Hogort is a good hog, too. Haven’t met a hog I didn’t respect. Can’t say the same for people.” She sniffed. “So did they chase you out, or did you escape?”
“Both, I think.”
She snorted. “Just as well. A pit of vipers, that place is. Not a decent person among them. I suppose there’s Rilvor. He was always a decent lad. Did you have the chance to meet him?”
“You could say that.” Jasen fidgeted with his cloak. “He wants me to marry him.”
Urga stopped in her tracks. “Well, now. That sounds like a story that would go best with a cup of mead.”
They sat down in the queen’s corner of the courtyard, where she had some comfortable chairs arranged around a table. Jasen waited for the mead to be served before he started his story. By the time he was through, they’d polished off the bottle and then some.
Urga said nothing for what seemed like a long time. “Well,” she said at last. “It was very sensible of you to refuse him.”
“But I haven’t refused him yet. I told him I would think about it.”
Urga pounded the arm of her chair with her fist, startling Jasen. “What’s there to think about? How can you even imagine going back there, after how you were treated? Nasty snobs, the lot of them. Don’t fool yourself that it would change—you aren’t one of them, and they’ll never let you forget it, not for a moment!”
Her sudden fury left Jasen perplexed. “But I love Rilvor. I really do.”
“Bah!” She waved her hand dismissively. “What good is love? I know you’re swept away with it now, but those feeling will fade, and by then you’re trapped. Look what happened to your mother, may she rest in peace. Your dad comes along, addles her senses with his charm, and then he proceeds to ruin her.”
Jasen didn’t think that was fair. It was true that his mother and father didn’t have the most harmonious of marriages, but he was sure that they loved each other. His dad’s drinking and gambling only got out of control after her death. But Urga was his queen—even though the Grummish were less formal than the rest of the Allied Realms, it still wasn’t good manners to argue with your monarch.
“You are Grummish,” the queen continued. “And the Grummish put practicality over flights of fancy—or at least, they should. It’s who we are as a people. We don’t need magic, and we certainly don’t need dragons and their meddling.”
Jasen frowned. “You think the dragons are meddling?”
“Of course they are! You think it was just happenstance that the first thing that happened when you arrived was some dragon demanding an audience? They want to bring Grumhul under their sway—that’s why they singled you out, made sure you met with the king. And once you married the high and mighty Lord of the Drae, they could start sneaking their influence into our kingdom. They’d probably want us to drain our swamps to make one of their draemirs, as if having them in every other kingdom weren’t enough!”
Jasen blinked. “That hadn’t occurred to me.” Was that really the only reason that Tasenred had called to him? That there wasn’t anything special about him after all? His heart sank.
His unhappiness must have shown in his expression, because the queen’s tone softened. “Now there, don’t take it so hard. I’m sure that Rilvor’s affections for you are sincere, but he must see that it’s impossible. His heart will mend in time.”
Jasen’s eyes stung. “And what about my heart?”
“That will mend, too, my dear.”
Jasen shut his eyes and pressed his fingers to them, trying to discourage any treacherous tears from falling. He took a deep breath in through his nose before speaking again. “You’re right. I will tell him no.”
Urga patted his leg. “There’s a good lad. It will work itself out, you’ll see. Tell you what—why don’t you move in here? I hear things are not going so well in Hagas, and let’s face it—your dad is a shit earl. He can stay here, too. Between the two of us, we can make him clean up his act. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”
Jasen looked around the courtyard, which only moments before had seemed so safe and welcoming. But now that it might be his permanent home, it felt like a trap.
The queen frowned. “Well? Aren’t you pleased?”
Before Jasen could answer, a scream rang out from where the children were playing. A little boy with messy blond hair lay on the ground, screaming his head off. All the adults in earshot hastened to him, including Jasen and Urga.The boy’s leg was bent at an unnatural angle, clearly broken.
The children and the servants had crowded around him, speaking all at once. Some of the littler one were crying, too. “Stand back, all of you!” Urga shouted. “Give the boy room to breathe!”
The children backed away. Urga pointed at one servants. “Go find the royal physician and bring her here at once.” She pointed at another. “And you—go find his mother. It’s Lady Bora, if I’m not mistaken.”
As the servants rushed off to do as she commanded, Jasen knelt beside the boy, who had stopped screaming but was still sobbing. “It hurts, it hurts!”
“It’s all right,” Jasen said soothingly, patting the boy’s hair. “What’s your name?”
The boy wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Tinnerand, but my friends call me Tin.”
“All right, Tin.” Jasen took his hand and squeezed it. “The physician will be here soon, and then will have you all fixed up.”
Tin started to cry again. “She’s going to crack my leg! My sister broke hers, and that’s what they did! I don’t want her to crack my leg!”
As the boy’s cries washed over him, something strange happened. Jasen’s chest grew warm with the same feeling that came over him whenever the dragons were near. Almost as if in a trance, he put his hand on the boy’s leg. Everyone stared, dumbfounded, as his hand glowed. Gentle blue flame flickered into existence, licking silently along his hand, and from there, down to the boy’s leg. The flames flashed a bright blue before dying down.
Tin’s sobs had stopped completely. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he said with wonder.
Jasen snatched his hand away. All of the children were quiet now, staring at him with wide eyes. Queen Urga’s mouth was hanging open in a decidedly unroyal gape, and her face had grown bone white. She snapped her mouth shut and glared at the children. “Not one word of any of this to anyone, do you hear me? That is a command from your queen!”
The children all nodded emphatically. She leveled her finger at Tin. “And you—that leg will be better when I say it is and not before, understand?”
Just then, the servants arrived along with two women—the physician and the mother, presumably. They were all out of breath.
“Oh my precious baby!” The mother ran to Tin and threw her arms around him. “Are you all right?”
“Seems it was not as bad as it looked,” the queen said. “Merely a sprain. I expect it will be better in a day or two.
Don’t you think so, boy?”
Tin leaned on his mother as he got to his feet. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He did a good job of faking a limp as his mother led him away.
Urga waved her hands at the children. “Shoo, the lot of you! Find something else to do!”
The children scattered. Jasen remained kneeling on the ground, still numb with shock. What had just happened? Did he heal the boy?
He dared a glance at the queen. Urga’s face was no longer white—in fact, it was now a deep red, and she was quivering with barely suppressed rage. “You didn’t tell me you were dragon-blessed!”
“I didn’t know.” Now that he had gotten over his surprise, he found himself more curious than anything else. He got to his feet and looked at his hands again. They didn’t seem any different now, although a faint warmth lingered in them.
The queen cursed. “Wretched dragons! Foul, interfering beasts!”
He didn’t see what was so horrible about being dragon-blessed, but he didn’t think it wise to question her. Hogort nuzzled her hand with his enormous snout. It seemed to calm her a little, although her lips were still pressed together in a thin, angry line.
“Come on, then,” she said. “To my chambers—this conversation requires more privacy.”
Once in her chambers, Urga shut the door. Jasen made himself comfortable in one of the chairs. Instead of sitting, Urga paced the room, her hands clasped behind her back and a deep frown on her face. It seemed as if she were debating something with herself.
At last she stopped in front of a basin of water. She waved her hand over it, and the water shot upward. With another wave of her hand, the water gathered into a ball in mid-air. The ball whipped around the room before returning to the basin and settling in.
Jasen’s jaw dropped. “You’re dragon-blessed!”
“Dragon-cursed, more like.” Urga sank into one of the chairs and rubbed her temple. “When I was several years younger than you are now, a man fell off a dragon while flying over Grumhul. I was sitting on the bank when it happened, fishing. It was a dreary, drizzling day, but the wet never bothered me. Since it was the rainy season, the waters were quite high. He was struggling mightily in the water—it was clear to me the poor sod couldn’t swim. I stripped off my dress and dove in.
“No sooner had I rescued him than the damned fool dragon plunged into the water as well. There was no risk of the beast drowning, but it did get stuck. I wanted to ask the man what had happened, but he had fainted. So I slung him over my shoulder and went back to the castle to get help. My mother sent her men out to help the dragon while I tended to the man. He was really more of a boy—quite scrawny. He came to eventually—told us he was a draed who had gotten lost in the rain. He wasn’t, though. He was Prince Gyles.”
“Prince Gyles?” Jasen frowned. “Wait—Gyles as in King Gyles? Rilvor’s father?”
“The very same, but he wasn’t the king yet, just as I was not yet a queen. He had run away, you see, because his parents had told him he had to marry. The fuss he caused! All of the Allied Realms were in a panic searching for the lost prince, but no one ever dreamed he would end up in Grumhul. And so he was able to hide away for a couple of weeks, during which time he became quite besotted with me. His ruse was eventually found out, and he was shipped back to the Draelands. I figured he’d forget about me, but he didn’t. He kept sending me letters, begging me to come visit him. I should have thrown those letters into the swamp. Instead, I relented and agreed to come to Court.
“Well, I don’t have to tell you how I was received. Did it matter that I was a princess? No! I was Grummish, and that’s all that mattered to the rest of them! They mocked me behind my back and belittled me directly to my face. Gyles couldn’t see it. He said I was being too sensitive, and besides, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. He got it into his head that he was going to marry me! Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?”
“You didn’t love him?” Jasen asked carefully.
“I had a certain amount of fondness for him,” she admitted grudgingly. “All right, perhaps more than that. Yes, I loved him. But what of it? Love is all well and good, but it won’t solve your troubles. Indeed, it often makes them worse.”
“So when were you blessed by the dragon?”
“It was after I came back to Grumhul. I’d refused Gyles’s proposal. It broke my heart, it did. I always thought myself too practical to weep, but I cried enough to fill a swamp afterward. One night, I had a strange dream about Gyles’s dragon. A few days after that, Gyles showed up again on the back of that same dragon. He’d had a dream, too, that I had been dragon-blessed. Turned out that I was. He was so excited. He was sure that meant that the Court would accept me with open arms now. But I knew it wouldn’t matter. I had to break his heart again. And still the dragons plagued me in my dreams, so insistent that I give in.” She pounded the arm of her chair. “How dare they! They had no right!
“It took a full year for the dreams to stop. And then Gyles found someone else, as I always knew he would. It seems they were happy enough, until they died. And when he lay sick and dying, did the dragons intervene? The same dragons who wouldn’t leave me in peace didn’t deign to save his life! What good are they, if not for that?” She furiously wiped at her eyes.
Jasen wasn’t sure his sympathy would be welcome, but he had to offer it, all the same. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.”
She removed a handkerchief from some hidden pocket in her dress and blew her nose. “Thank you, lad.” She gave him a watery smile. “You must forgive me. It seems I have grown sentimental in my old age.” Her smile faded abruptly. “And I will not stand idly by and let you be bullied as I was! We will make damned sure those dragons leave you alone, and if Rilvor shows his scrawny arse around my kingdom, I’ll pitch him into the swamp myself!”
Jasen bit his lip. Rather than cementing his resolve, her story made his feelings even more complicated, but it didn’t seem prudent to say as much. “Thank you for looking out for me,” he said instead.
“You’re welcome. Now, go on—I need some time to myself.”
Jasen gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room. It was clear that she wanted what was best for him. But was refusing Rilvor really the right thing to do? Rilvor was willing to fight for him, just as Gyles was willing to fight for Urga. But she had refused him—and had spent the rest of life in bitterness.
Was this why Tasenred had brought him here—to show him what his life would be if he turned Rilvor down? All of the doubts he had before about accepting Rilvor’s proposal were still there—but he was now realizing that running away had perils of its own.
Chapter 17
Several days passed, and Jasen was no closer to making a decision. On the one hand, every concern he had expressed to Rilvor still held. Accepting his proposal would throw the Court into chaos. Perhaps Rilvor was right that the scandal would pass, but he couldn’t know that for sure. Rilvor said Jasen was more popular than he knew—but then again, Polina had been popular, too, and look what happened to her.
If Jasen said yes, he would have to steel himself for intense humiliation. He would like to think he was brave enough to face it, but Queen Urga was ten times stronger than him and it broke her. And his wasn’t the only humiliation he had to take into consideration—his friends would have to face it, too, although he was certain Rilvor would protect them from legal consequences. Larely was most likely to escape the worst of it anyway, especially since his family cared very little for the law and would be unlike to turn him over if he was summoned. And despite Adwig’s threats, Risyda hadn’t really done anything other than indulge in kara weed—she was hardly the only noble who shared that vice.
But she was his friend, and if his reputation was ruined, hers would be as well. Risyda made a big show of not caring what people thought, but did Lady Wessor feel the same way? She was Risyda’s last hopes of a respectable marriage. The loss of Risyda’s reputation would force her to go back t
o her father’s home for good—and that was if she was lucky and her father decided not to turn her out.
But on the other hand, if he refused Rilvor, he would regret it for the rest of his life. Staying in Grumhul with Queen Urga was safe, but that didn’t mean it would shield him from pain. Already, he missed him terribly. The thought of never seeing him again made him feel hollowed out. He didn’t know if he would ever love another. And the thought of passing the rest of his life in this castle in the swamp, growing more and more bitter with each year, was as frightening as the Court’s humiliations in its own way. He felt like his only decision was between a sharp, intense pain, and a slow, dull one.
Jasen did his best not to spend every minute brooding. There were nowhere near the amount of diversions as there were at Strengsend, but he began to settle back into the quieter pleasures of Grummish life. He especially enjoyed spending time with the noble children, who adored him, Tin most of all. Once the queen decided that Tin was “recovered,” he insisted on including Jasen in all of their games.
One afternoon on an unusually sunny day, they decided to go frog catching in the swamp. Tin had just netted a large specimen when he dropped the net and pointed at the sky. “What’s that?”
Jasen shielded his eyes from the sun and looked where Tin had pointed. He was right—something was moving toward them—a bird, perhaps? But as it grew closer, it became larger and larger until it was very clear it wasn’t a bird at all.
“It’s a dragon!” Tin shouted.
All of the children starting jumping and running around, screaming their heads off in a mixture of giddiness and fear. Jasen tried to settle them down, although his own heart was racing. Had Rilvor come to demand an answer so soon?
But as the dragon grew closer, it was clear it wasn’t Woria or Tasenred. The dragon was smaller than either of them, sleek and green. Someone was riding on its back—actually, it looked like two someones, but Jasen couldn’t make who they were.