Page 31 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

I knocked him in the ribs with my knuckles, and he doubled over, laughing. “You’re looking older.”

“And wiser?” he asked.

“We both know that’s not likely.” He swatted at me playfully, and my heart felt full to bursting. It didn’t matter that he wore the sigil of the king on his chest. He would always be my big brother first. “The beard looks good, though.” It was the color of corn silk, just like his hair, which touched his shoulders in soft waves.

Trystan tipped his head back and forth, rubbing at the scruff along his jaw. “You think so? It’s something I’m trying out. Thought it might appeal to the women in these mountainous parts.”

I rolled my eyes. Trystan was always trying to appeal to women. Though, truth be told, he didn’t have to work all that hard. A group of them could usually be spotted wherever he went, tripping over themselves for as little as a smile. And who wouldn’t for a guy like that? The first son of a councilor who sat on the king’s court. A respected member of the kingsguard. And to top it all off, the most handsome of the lot of them.

He was the center of every room without even trying.

Trystan didn’t walk.

He swaggered.

He didn’t smile.

He charmed.

And despite being different from me in almost every way but the gray eyes we’d inherited from our late mother, he was still my favorite person in the world. Trystan would have made a fair politician, taking after my father, hosting dinners and trading gossip with the other councilors. He had the look and confidence and jawline of someone who could sway minds. And yet he’d chosen to pick up a sword in the name of the king.

My father had never been prouder.

“What?” Trystan said, shooting me a cheeky grin. “You don’t think the ladies will like it?”

“Even if they do, I still think you’re likely to get yourself slapped.”

“Ah, well. It’s not a good night if I haven’t earned a kiss and a slap from at least one barmaid.” He tucked his arm around my shoulders. “It’s good to see you, Vaela. I hoped we’d settle in Ember Ridge for the night. We have a lot to catch up on.”

“I can see that,” I said, lowering my voice as my eyes darted to the cart pulled by the draft horse. “Are the whispers true?”

Trystan was careful not to say anything out loud, where townsfolk might overhear, but his eyes said everything. “We’ll catch up later,” he murmured. “When I’ve finished my duties for the evening.”

“Meet me at the Wiggly Dragon Tooth,” I told him.

“That place has a sign that says it’s under refurbishment.”

I nodded. “But I know the owner. She’ll let us in and we won’t be disturbed there. I’ll even buy you a drink.”

Trystan laughed. “With what money? Wrangling doesn’t pay you that well.”

I shoved him hard. “It pays enough to keep up with your light-weight self.”

The boom of his laughter could be heard clear across the square. He shook his head, setting off as he was summoned for patrol.

* * *

“You know, some people would call that a crime,” I said, stepping around the trunk of a massive oak tree. “Taking the property of the king.”

Eden jerked at my appearance, but she didn’t drop the coin-sized scale in her hand. Instead, she added it to the cloth bag hooked to the waist of her skirt. It made a small thunk, telling me this wasn’t the first she’d collected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So we’re playing that game?” I mused, my lips twitching.

After my chat with Trystan, Min and I had returned to the nesting shed. She’d reacted oddly to a smell inside the shed, her nostrils flaring as she’d scraped at her nest. Dalton was still in the square, whispering about the Wretch with other townsfolk, so I’d decided to poke around myself. I’d followed a small set of tracks around the side of the shed, noting that someone had picked through a pile of old straw. Chasing bits of disturbed straw into the woods, I knew I was about to find something, I’d just never expected it to be Eden. And I certainly never expected her to be stealing dragon scales.

“I assure you I’m playing no game,” she said, bending over to collect another scale. She seemed to be picky, abandoning anything that was smaller than a fingernail. “Unlike the kingsguard who seem to be hunting dragons for sport.”

I followed after her. Truthfully, I had the same questions about what the kingsguard was doing, but until I talked to Trystan, I didn’t see much point in speculating. If they really were here for the Wretch, there had to be a good reason, right? I couldn’t see Trystan getting tangled up in something nefarious.