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“He’s in my head a lot, Medra,” I confided. “He just pops in and out, whenever he wants to. At first I ignored him, but now … Well, I guess I’m starting to get used to it. Was it like that for you? I can sense him. Sometimes, I can see what he sees. Smell what he smells.” I grimaced. “I’ve tasted raw fish.” I didn’t tell her the taste was starting to grow on me. Or that the crunching of bones could be oddly satisfying.

Medra’s eyes had widened. “No, it wasn’t like that for me. I could hear him, of course. When he wanted to be heard, but we weren’t always connected. Today, in Regan’s office, he found you. How? Had you told him where we were?”

I shook my head. “No. I haven’t quite figured out how to, well, juggle what’s happening around me while speaking to him. He was asking me things, but I hadn’t responded. I was too distracted.” And frightened, I added silently. “I was as surprised as you when he appeared.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he did. He saved both our skins.”

“For now,” I said softly. “But Viktor …”

Medra bared her teeth. “That old highblood bastard will be back, I’m sure. But you have a dragon to protect you now. You’ll be all right.” She glanced away. “Look, there are snacks, if you want them. A plate of muffins. My halfeaten sandwich.” She grinned when I wrinkled my nose. “I made tea. It’s cold now, but you’re welcome to it.”

There was something wrong, something she wasn’t telling me. But it could wait. I wanted to enjoy this—being back in our room, together, just talking.

“Medra, there’s something I need to say,” I burst out. “You saved my life. Again.” There. It was out. It was done. Better late than never. “I didn’t even thank you. In fact, I did the opposite—I ran. I’ve treated you so badly. I’ve been an awful friend. Really, I have. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

She half smiled. “It’s fine, Florence, really. I know what we did to save you was … extreme. And we couldn’t exactly ask your permission first.” She’d gotten right to the heart of the matter.

Medra hesitated. “Does your mother understand what happened?”

I nodded. “Most of it. She knows I’m connected to Nyxaris now. Not exactly how much or how closely, though.”

“It must be frightening,” Medra murmured. “So many changes.”

“I’ve been frightened, yes,” I agreed. “That’s why I hid. Not just from you, but from him. I’m a coward.”

You are not a coward.

I froze. You called me one yourself.

That was … before, Nyxaris said magnanimously.

I furrowed my brow. Are you saying you were wrong?

The answer came instantly. Dragons are never wrong.

Medra looked at me curiously, but she stayed silent.

I’m trying to have a private conversation, I reminded him.

And I am trying to reassure my rider that their bravery is no longer in question. He was quiet for a moment, but I knew he was still there. You are not the same as she is. You are different.

There was a lump in my throat. Bad different? I’m sorry. I know I’m a disappointment.

Not a disappointment, he rebuffed me. You are a very clever girl, a scholar with a brilliant mind. When one lives their entire life expecting to be a scribe, it is understandably difficult to adapt to becoming a rider. You rode well today, as I said. A brief pause. Better than I expected you to.

Is that … a compliment? I said in surprise.

It is not a compliment if you must ask if it is a compliment, he grumbled. Take it or leave it, fledgling.

I smiled at Medra. She smiled back. She was waiting patiently. Obviously, she’d figured out what was going on.

You did not scream, Nyxaris added, apparently still considering all that might have gone wrong. Or faint. Or toss the contents of your belly onto my back.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back laughter.

Which is more than I can say for some of your kind the first time they ride a dragon, he continued.

I’m not sure that not vomiting sets the bar very high, I pointed out.