“Oh, so dragons are really stupid,” Emmeric says. “Got it.”
If only it wasn’t a capital offence to smack a prince. “Move to the back, Emmeric. Zabriel, come here.”
Emmeric hotly mimics, “Move to the back, Prince Emmeric. Come here, Prince Zabriel.”
I move closer to Emmeric until my face is an inch from his. “On my dragongrounds, you are a trainee soldier, not a prince. It’syes, dragonmaster, or you can leave.”
“I can call you what I like. The king outranks you.”
“Are you the king?”
Emmeric glowers with an expression that’s pure poison. Finally he turns and walks to the back. King Aylard is volatile enough. Heavens help us if something happens to Zabriel and Emmeric becomes king.
Zabriel is an overeager puppy as I walk him through what he needs to do for his first ride. I’m not sure he’s listened to a word I’ve said as he climbs up onto Damla’s back. The crown prince surprises me by executing a competent first ride through the skies around the castle, though seeing as he doesn’t have to do much but sit there, he’d have to do something really stupid to mess up.
Zabriel jumps to the ground and grins at me. “How was that?”
“Next time, keep your eyes forward and your weight centered. Stop gawping at the ground like you’re a child taking his first donkey ride. Move back. Mirelle, come here.”
Mirelle is visibly sweating as she approaches me. Queen Magritte has never wanted me to treat her any differently just because she’s small and timid, and so I extend the same courtesy to her daughter.
“Mirelle, I will repeat everything I said to Zabriel. Make sure you listen.”
Onderz moves forward to comfort the trembling girl, but I hold him back with a hand against his chest while I keep talking. The girl has her own two feet. She can stand on them.
I’m not sure Mirelle heard a word I said either. She clambers up on Damla’s back with a lot of panting and whimpering. When Damla moves beneath Mirelle, the girl screams. Damla is such a patient dragon that she doesn’t react, but several young dragons at the edge of the flare turn their heads toward us and snort in alarm.
The princess keeps her eyes squeezed shut tight as Damla takes to the skies, flies in a small circle, and comes into land. I sigh in exasperation and wait for the girl to dismount.
She doesn’t move.
“Mirelle, get down here.”
“But it’s so far down,” the princess whimpers.
“Damla isn’t very big. You should be able to climb down on your own.”
“I c-c-can’t, dragonmaster.”
“I’ll come get you,” Onderz calls.
“Stay where you are, Onderz. Mirelle, there are hand and footholds in the saddle. Seek one with your right foot. There, you have it. Now swing your leg over, and either slide to the ground and meet it with your knees bent or climb down all the way.”
Mirelle is practically sobbing as she makes her way painfully slowly to the ground. “I’m sorry I’m not doing it right, dragonmaster.” Finally, she seeks the ground with her foot, misjudges the distance, and falls in a heap.
Mirelle isn’t naturally clumsy, cowardly, or stupid, but she’s been told she is her whole life by her father, and now here we are.
The princess gets to her feet and dusts herself off with embarrassed tears lacing her lashes. “You can yell at me now, dragonmaster.”
I fold my arms and look down at her. “Did you ride that dragon on your own?”
Mirelle nods tearfully.
“Did you get on and off that dragon on your own?”
She nods again.
“Then you’ve learned something, and you’ll do it faster and better next time. Go and join the others.”
