The Dragon Princess

by Paris Hansch

  “You’re not in trouble,” said Adelia. “I’m just worried about you. Go back and see Elaine, and take it easy for the day. We don’t need anyone collapsing on us now.” She helped Jane stand as she escorted her to the doorway.

  Councilor Raoul almost ran into them, and he leaned against the doorframe, sweat pouring down his face. He was panting, but it seemed to be more from the stress of his body having to walk up and down the halls.

  “Uh, Lady Adelia,” he said. “The… delivery is here.”

  Adelia frowned. “What delivery?”

  “The princess asked for weapons to be carved out of silverlight.” He handed her a slightly sticky note. “There’s a cart outside.”

  Silverlight weapons? Adelia thought. They had plenty of weapons for the soldiers already, and this new delivery wouldn’t be useful on the battlefield. She glanced outside. Groups of their people were practicing out on the grounds, the soldiers still paired up with their servants. She’d had them rotate in shifts between what Mina had told them to do and what Alexander wanted them to do. Mina must have meant for everyone, including the servants to be armed, as well.

  “Distribute them amongst the most capable of the household, then,” she said. “Have they returned from the border yet?”

  Councilor Raoul was breathing hard through his mouth. “Yes, General… Ban is giving out the Lanadese axes… we collected as we speak. The bodies have also been brought back for burial.”

  “Excellent.” Adelia nodded. When he wasn’t around the other councilors, he took orders quite well; he just needed to lose a few pounds. Former General Barrett was still sulking after his demotion, and Councilor Dallan hadn’t reported back to them in a while. “Please continue overseeing the equal distribution of rations in the meantime.”

  “Right away, my lady.”

  Adelia let out a breath. Now that things were starting to come together, maybe she could squeeze in a little practice with the rest of them. Everything was going quite well, considering the circumstances. It took a little bit of reorganizing to get people moving, but once they did, it seemed to go far smoother than before. She wandered outside.

  A group of maids and soldiers were squabbling excitedly, one of the maids having actually hit the target with her bow. Another group of them were teaching the soldiers the proper way to use a needle and thread, and still, others seemed to be showing them how to tie bandages properly. There was a certain sense of comradery that had emerged over the past few days, and she could tell that even in the midst of war preparations, friendships were forming. This must have been what Mina had been hoping for.

  Adelia approached one of the groups who were repairing some leather armor. Maybe she could talk with people, too.

  “Can I help?”

  Their laughter died out, and they looked at her with wide eyes, like she was a talking foxen. Maybe she shouldn’t have interrupted them. The silence was awkward, and their uneasiness was growing by the second. They glanced at each other before a servant spoke up.

  “It’s… quite all right, Milady. You needn’t trouble yourself with things like this.”

  Adelia plastered on a pleasant smile. “Of course.”

  She tried a few more groups, all to a similar response. What had she been thinking? No matter what she did, she would always be Lady Adelia, the pretty maiden who should have been happily married by now. Admired like a beautiful flower, but trapped in a glass cage. Her chest was tight, and she bit her lip. Even though their people were becoming more comfortable with each other, the difference between her and them was still too great. No one would understand what she was going through.

  Adelia sighed, wandering off to a more secluded corner of the grounds. At least on this side, it wasn’t filled with people just yet.

  She felt a presence approach her and couldn’t help but frown when she realized who it was—Anton. She braced herself, hugging her arms tighter. She was sure that he was about to lecture her or make some snide comment. But to her surprise, he stood next to her in silence, watching a lyrecrane take off from an ice pear tree.

  “Do you remember when our… when Lady Adalynn made you attend finishing school?”

  She stared at him. That was unexpected.

  “How could I forget?” replied Adelia. “I spent the night crying in your room after the first day.” And then, he’d spent the next two weeks helping her cause enough mischief to force their mother to get her a private tutor instead. Those nasty girls just hadn’t left her alone.

  He nodded. “It hasn’t changed.”

  “What hasn’t?”

  “People will always treat us differently,” Anton murmured. “We’ll always be a lord and lady, even though we aren’t like our brother. Some are jealous of what we have, others resentful. They’ll fear us, ridicule us or use us and leave. No matter what their reaction to whatever we do,” he glanced at her, “no one will ever just… be with us.”

  Adelia didn’t know what to say. This was the most he’d spoken to her in a long time.

  “What brought this on?” she asked carefully.

  Anton shrugged. “Watching you get your hopes up with those servants. There’s no point exposing your heart when you know it’s going to get crushed.”

  Oh, Anton. Was this how he saw it? There was a silent sadness behind his words, even though his voice held no emotion. Time hadn’t been kind to the little boy who once wore his heart on his sleeve.

  “But if I hadn’t,” she said, “I wouldn’t have met someone like Mina.”

  This time, Anton met her eyes. He was just a little bit shorter than she was now that they’d nearly grown up, though she’d never gotten the chance to tease him about it. His scar hadn’t changed, though; the same pink line that she remembered crossed over his eye. He’d never told them how it’d happened or even who did it.

  “Do you really still believe in her?” asked Anton. It was a strangely earnest question, almost childlike.

  Adelia steeled herself. “Of course. I’m sure she had important imperial duties to attend to. If she needed to leave, she needed to leave.”

  Even to her, it sounded like false words. Her only friend, the only person who truly understood her, had left, and it didn’t look like she was going to return. She almost wished that Mina had never regained her memories. The way things had been when she was just Mina the Servant had been comfortable. She’d made life bearable. But now, everything was back to the way it was before.

  Anton didn’t miss a beat. “But is that how you feel about it?”

  No. It wasn’t fair that she’d left, just like that, and it didn’t make sense. Adelia crossed her arms, brushing the little scab on her index finger. Why had she made that silly vow? It wasn’t for Mina. It was to spite Alexander. He’d hesitated to trust Mina, and she felt it. But the truth was, so had she. It was nothing more than a flamboyant gesture that didn’t even serve to convince herself.

  “Mina shouldn’t have left us,” Adelia muttered. “It was selfish and unnecessary.”

  There. She’d finally said it. She stomped her foot hard in the snow, but it didn’t release the tension in her body. She didn’t care whether Mina had duties or whether she was being irrational about it. Mina had abandoned them—abandoned her—plain and simple.

  “You were always good at acting strong in front of others, just like our brother,” said Anton. “But you’ve never been good at lying to yourself.”

  “And what would you even care?” Adelia’s hand came to rest on her hip. She had no idea what he was trying to do, but the fact that she didn’t feel like he was hiding some ulterior motive made her even more annoyed. He couldn’t just waltz up to her and start speaking as if they’d never stopped, not after all these years.

  “Because right now, you’re doing what I can’t, and every time you pretend it’s okay, you fall apart inside.” Anton waved a hand at their people. “They’re relying on you right now, not me.” His jaw tightened. “I—just forget it. Forget I said anything.” He
shuffled away before she could blink, his head tucked into his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

  Adelia let out a frustrated sigh. Even if that was his awkward way of showing compassion for her, it was too little, too late. Eleven years later, they weren’t the same people they once were, and they never would be. Too much had happened. She could reminisce and hope all she wanted, but her brother was long gone. He left her alone first. They all had to move forward from their past, and she wasn’t planning on getting hurt anymore.

  Adelia returned to the great hall, throwing herself into her work. There were preparations to be made, people to move and a region to save. She didn’t have time for anyone’s attitude. Even Barrett seemed to keep his distance from her. She knew that Alexander would want Councilor Dallan to be taking charge, but if he wasn’t going to show his face, she didn’t need him. Good riddance to that awful man.

  It was afternoon by the time she finally sat down for a moment. Her heart was racing, and she’d never felt more energy pumping through her body. It felt good to be on the move.

  “Milady,” called Vivian as she stopped in the doorway. “They’re back.”

  Adelia looked up. “Right. See to it that they’re looked after, and tell my brother I’m in here.” She rested her head against the table. Although she was glad for their safety, she wasn’t in the mood to rush off to welcome them home. No doubt that her brother would take over just as she’d finally found a rhythm, but that was his right, and she couldn’t really complain. It was a big enough deal that he’d asked them to get involved in the first place. Though perhaps, just maybe, Alexander would see that they could handle things without him.

  She mulled over her thoughts for a bit, calming her annoyance. She should really get back to translating her book, if only she could find a spare moment.

  “—everything is moving along at a steady pace, my lord. We should be fully prepared to march into battle in about a week,” said Councilor Dallan, walking through the door with Alexander. He glanced at her. “Oh, and Lady Adelia was a fine help.”

  Alexander nodded. “Thank you for taking care of things as always, Dallan. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  Adelia stared at them, her mouth slightly open. The anger bubbled up again in an instant. A fine help? That bastard. She could feel his internal grin, as though he was simply doing this to spite her. Her brother would never believe her over his most trusted councilor. Dragons to both of them. They could get lost.

  Alexander gave her a tired wave. “Sister, we’re home.”

  Adelia picked up her skirts and stormed right past them. She blocked her ears to her brother’s shouts as she hurried down the hall. She didn’t give a dragon’s claw what either of them wanted to say. If there were one death she wouldn’t miss on the battlefield, it would be that of that damn councilor.

  Adelia clenched her fists. People were staring at her as she passed, but for once, she didn’t care. In her oblivious rage, she crashed straight into someone, and they fell over in a heap.

  “Sorry,” Adelia mumbled, almost growling. Then, she glanced at the girl. She looked to be a few years younger than herself. Her ebony hair was brushed against her shoulders, and her eyes carried an innocent warmth, their rich green matched by her jade hairpin and earrings. If someone had said that she was Mina’s little sister, she would have believed them.

  Adelia held out a hand, and the girl took it. She had such a frail grip, and it was almost no effort at all to pull her to her feet. She had the frame of a little girl and couldn’t have been much more than five feet tall.

  The girl didn’t seem the least bit annoyed to have been knocked down. “My, my. I sensed a violent storm rushing my way, but I didn’t think it’d be another priestess.” She dusted herself off. Her robes were perfectly draped around her figure, the red pleated skirt tied around her petite waist with a bow, the hem barely brushing the floor. She had a tome that mirrored Adelia’s own tucked away in a pouch on her hip.

  Adelia frowned. “Huh?” Maybe she hit her head a little harder than she’d thought.

  “My name is Hanabi, the Head Priestess of the Imperial Dragon Temple.” Even her voice was gentle and melodic. So, this was the girl they’d all run off to save, the so-called key to ending the war. She clasped her hands together, the large white sleeves practically engulfing her slender arms. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met another priestess. I hope we can be good friends.”

  Adelia opened her mouth, then closed it. “Hold on, what?”

  “I hope we can be—”

  “No, before that.”

  Hanabi blinked, her mouth slightly parting. “You didn’t know?”

  “Should I have?” Adelia fought to keep the exasperation from her tone. It wasn’t like she was ever told anything. But a priestess? Her? It was the same thing that the Ryuko person had accused her of. Adelia patted the book on her side. “Oh. No, you see, I just carry this around.” Now that the subject had been brought up, she could feel a vastly different energy coming from Hanabi. It was soft and gentle, but at the same time held a commanding presence.

  Hanabi raised an eyebrow. “Come now, your mother must have been a priestess, as well. Didn’t she tell you anything?”

  Adelia shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t have time for this.” She moved past her. It was passed down through blood, and there was no way that Lady Adalynn was a priestess. Hanabi was making assumptions, and Adelia didn’t want to deal with it.

  Before she could get far, her legs suddenly seized up. Adelia was frozen to the floor as an invisible force made her limbs unbearably heavy. There was a strong urge deep within her mind, telling her that she didn’t want to walk away, that she was being rash. She needed to calm down, turn around and listen. The thoughts came in her own voice, too, like she was really considering changing her mind.

  Adelia clenched her jaw. She wasn’t fooled. She could feel a strange power behind her. It was not unlike Mina’s aura, though it had a different flavor. Hanabi was doing something, and she didn’t like it.

  Not on my watch.

  She resisted.

  She willed her legs to move.

  She shouted in her mind, louder than the voice that wasn’t hers.

  Adelia’s foot budged. As the hold on her dissipated, she spun around, grabbing Hanabi by the shoulder and shoving her against the wall.

  “Never do that again,” she said in a low voice. Her head spun, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Suddenly, her body felt extraordinarily tired, as if she’d just gone for a mile-long sprint.

  Hanabi gave her a knowing smile. “Impressive. Even without a conduit, your will alone is strong enough to resist mine. That’s something no ordinary person can do.” She held up her hands, the light fading from the tome by her side. “I won’t do it again. But it was the quickest way to show you that I’m not playing around with you. They told me about you on the way here, Lady Adelia. And I believe we have a lot of work to do.”

  Adelia took a step back. Hanabi didn’t appear to be lying, but she had a sinking suspicion that she might not be able to tell even if she was. The dizziness passed, and she shook her head.

  “Fine, I’m listening.”

  “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

  Adelia let out a sigh and led Hanabi to her room, keeping her in her peripherals at all times. This woman was incredibly dangerous, and even if she was part of Mina’s entourage, Adelia didn’t trust her. When they entered her room, Hanabi’s gaze wandered around, first at the tapestry, then at the papers strewn across her desk. She sat down, her breathing abnormally heavy for such a short walk.

  “Are you sure you didn’t know you were a priestess?” she asked.

  Adelia gritted her teeth. “No one tells me anything. Are you planning on explaining, or do you just want to point out my ignorance some more?”

  Hanabi didn’t seem fazed. “Actually, you’re far from ignorant. I thought I’d be dealing with a complete beginner.” She
picked up one of the papers. “Can you read dragon script?”

  Adelia stopped, her interest immediately peaked. “Can you?”

  “Yes. It’s foundational knowledge for any priestess.”

  Her hostility dropped a level as Hanabi nodded. This is part of the reason why she wanted to visit the imperial temple in the first place, and this woman must know so much about all of this. Adelia grabbed her book, pushing it toward Hanabi.

  “Please, I have to know what this says.”

  Hanabi took it, running her fingers over the cover. Her brows furrowed. “Where did you get this?”

  “I guess you could say it’s a family heirloom.”

  Hanabi handed it back. “This is a syra, or the object into which a piece of one’s spirit is infused, and it’s an incredibly powerful one, at that. I can still feel her presence even after so many years. Your mother was a priestess, too. It’s bound to your family line, so I can’t open it.”

  “Why do you keep saying that? Lady Adalynn was nothing of the sort,” Adelia snapped.

  “As old as this syra is, the power of the spirit arts is passed down without fail. It never skips a generation, even if she never used her powers. Did she seem to tune in with the emotions of those around her?”

  Adelia snorted, then covered her mouth. “If she did, she didn’t care.”

  “And you’ve hated me from the moment you saw me,” said Hanabi. “I don’t care if you do, but I must know your background before I tell you anything. We must be related somehow. The only line of priestesses still in existence is mine.” Hanabi unsnapped the leather pouch on her hip, pulling out her tome and flipping it open to the first page. “Can you read this?”

  Adelia pursed her lips but squinted at the symbols nevertheless. Most of them were still unreadable, but the first three words were clear.

  “Do not… use?”

  “Yes, it’s a reminder I wrote to myself. ‘Do not use unless you are prepared to die.’” Hanabi shut her tome. “Do you know why I’m the head priestess, despite being such a young age?”