The Dragon Princess

by Paris Hansch

  The soldiers seemed frozen, with their heads turned to the general’s son, who was helping another man to his feet. Adelia didn’t blame them; a ruckus like that would have General Barrett sending them all on a ten-lap warmup around the grounds. She often watched them train from her window, pitying their misfortune.

  Ban rotated in a slow circle, taking in the chaos, and his head tilted back, spilling laughter across the grounds. The men dusted themselves off, their posture relaxing and their growing chuckles joining a chorus of mirth. Mina looked behind her, scratching her head. She shrugged.

  Ban jogged over to them, still grinning. “Never a dull day with you here,” he said, nodding at Mina.

  Mina bit her lip. “Sorry, I was just passing through,” she said, twirling a finger through her hair. Bits of snow glistened in her locks, forming a delicate film, before melting away.

  “I can certainly see that.” Ban’s dimples were full of childlike energy, though he was no longer a child. “What had you both in such a hurry?”

  Adelia glanced at the ground, and Mina piped up.

  “Alexander’s—or should I say Councilor Dallan’s—solution is to marry Adelia off to Lord Reinhardt to form an alliance. Of course, we were only just told.”

  “An alliance, huh?” Ban stroked his chin. “Eloria has an army twice as good as ours, and their food is said to give one man the strength of ten.” He paced back and forth. “But even so, a marriage is a one-time thing. Sooner or later, they’d be draining far more from us in order to continue their support. It would only be a matter of time before…”

  Mina nodded. “I told him it was unsustainable.”

  Adelia frowned. “You knew?” She knew that they talked but not about things like this.

  “Only that he sought an alliance. He never said how.”

  Adelia shook her head. Her brother would talk about something as important as that to Mina, but wouldn’t even pay attention to the information that she had to offer. She had to stop being surprised by his behavior. It only made her disappointment feel worse.

  Ban shrugged. “I suppose all we can really do is trust that our lord knows what he’s doing. I truly hope you’ll be able to make the best of the situation, my lady. They do say Eloria is a beautiful region, and you deserve to be happy.” He kicked the snow with his boot. “I’d do anything to get out of this cold weather.” Ban glanced between the two of them. “How is Anton taking everything?”

  Adelia gave him a blank stare. “The fact that you have to ask us is truly a testimony to your dying friendship.” It wasn’t like Anton ever talked to her. If she wanted to know something about her brother, she would have asked Ban.

  “Worth a shot,” said Ban, smiling sheepishly. “He won’t talk to me, but I figure one day, I can crack him again. It only takes one person to be a friend, after all.”

  “I wouldn’t bother…” Adelia murmured. Her brother was gone. He had been for a long time. She sighed, tapping Mina on the arm. “You weren’t coming to bring me back, were you?”

  Mina shook her head. “Where would you like to go?”

  “Anywhere but here.”

  They left the castle grounds together, walking down the main road. Like the castle, the city of Anadrieth was built with the same dreary stone. The morning sun reflected specks of light through the thin layers of ice encasing the windows and slanted rooftops.

  Despite the gloomy appearance, the city was bustling at this hour, erupting in a cacophony of sound. Merchants proclaimed their wares, some engaged in heated arguments as they haggled over price, others sang praises of their goods. Wagons rolled over the cobblestones, the horses snorting and rubbing their faces in feed bags. Lively violin music wafted through the streets, and street dancers twirled and waved silk ribbons around them in mesmerizing patterns as they attracted a small crowd of onlookers, throwing copper coins into a basket.

  Adelia tried to enjoy the city life around her, to absorb the infectious energy of their people, but her mind kept circling back to the impending marriage. Now that she had calmed down, logic took over. Her brother was in a difficult situation, but his decision hadn’t been wrong. Even if it was only a temporary solution, it would buy them time to look for a permanent one.

  She glanced around at their people. Children giggled and squealed, throwing snow at each other, while passers-by scolded them as they ran haphazardly through the streets. Young ladies drew water from the well, water sloshing about as they gossiped about their festival outfits. People greeted each other in the streets with warm smiles. For a city that had feared war for the past two years, they did a good job of remaining cheerful.

  Adelia smiled faintly. If she had to leave to protect them, so be it. Perhaps she was looking at things in the wrong way. She found that whenever she hit a wall in her work, it always helped to turn the whole thing upside down, sometimes literally—some of the dragon script packed in the margins had actually been written from another angle.

  Eloria was said to be beautiful. She would get to see the great Sea of Dunite, maybe even sail its waters. And there had to be a whole other world of books over there that she could get her hands on, which could even hold missing pieces of information.

  Mina nudged her. “If you’re hungry, I know where the best bakery in the city is. Alexander even has them baking for the festival.”

  Adelia grinned. “I’m starving.”

  As they weaved through the streets, the aroma of freshly baked bread drifted past, and Adelia’s stomach growled in response. There was a house with a little shopfront attached, complete with a large open counter where you could watch the bread being baked. A plump man was busily rolling out dough, his apron already covered in flour, while a woman—presumably his wife—was checking the pastries in the oven. Unlike the man who had his arms exposed, she wore a long-sleeved, high-necked dress.

  Mina leaned over the counter. “Morning, Henry, Marianne!”

  Henry turned, and his cheeks puffed up into a smile. “Morning, lass. And who’s this you’ve brought with you?”

  Adelia cut in. “Just a friend.”

  He seemed to pause, his eyes running over their attire, and Mina piped up again. “I see you’re in a good mood today. How’s business?”

  Henry sighed. “Not booming. Thieves have been running rampant in the city lately. With all this talk of war, folks are scared, and soldiers don’t have time to deal with petty theft.” He leaned forward, speaking under his breath. “Between you and me, people ain’t so confident that Lord Alexander can protect us from them barbarians. The empire needs its leaders back, or this’ll turn into a bloodbath sooner or later.”

  Marianne nudged his side, placing a tray of pastries on the counter, their shapes twisted into miniature dragons. Her dull blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her face held the remnants of a woman who was clearly beautiful in her youth.

  “Don’t be such a downer. Our lord is truly doing his very best.” Marianne handed both of them a pastry. “We’ve even got the honor of making these for the festival.” There was a reddish birthmark creeping onto the left side of her cheek that looked slightly scarred. Marianne seemed to be self-conscious of it, wearing especially long clothes to conceal it. She averted her eyes when she noticed Adelia staring.

  Adelia focused on the dragon-shaped pastry instead. It had a bright red frostberry for an eye, and the glaze stuck to her fingers. She took a small nibble, then ate the rest in a single bite. “Those are amazing.”

  Mina nodded at Henry. “But I’m afraid their speculation is correct. War is upon us.”

  Henry grimaced, slipping his arm around his wife. “Thought as much,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Suppose there’s not much we can do, except what we’ve always done.”

  Marianne squeezed his hand to her chest. “We’ll be all right.” Then, her eyes widened, and she glanced back at Mina. “Haven’t told you the best news yet! The orphanage is letting us adopt some kids again, two of them, in fact. One young’
un and an older one. Must be a couple of troublemakers since they seemed insistent we take both… what were their names again?”

  Henry thought for a moment, then clicked his fingers. “Scarlet and Penelope. Too bad they’re too old to name after us. Would have liked a Henrietta or a Marie.”

  Marianne frowned. “Be truly thankful you’ll have a daughter at all, especially after our last apprentice disappeared, and our adopted son…”

  Adelia paused as she licked her fingers. It was only faint, but for a moment, there was a sense of sadness. It shouldn’t have been odd, given the subject, but there was a strange flavor about the sadness. Almost as if it was false, but at the same time, it wasn’t. She wiped her hand. Maybe the frostberry was just off.

  Marianne seemed to pull herself together. “Anyway, the neighbors might scoff at breaking the family naming tradition, but they were all blessed with several children each.” She shook her head, pulling out a little wooden doll with blonde hair and a blue dress. Hand-carved, its appearance was almost lifelike. “This one’s for the young’un. I hope they like it.” Marianne locked eyes with Adelia. “Family is important to take care of, after all, even if you don’t know them.” She held out another pastry.

  Adelia hesitated, then took it. Perhaps Marianne did know who she was, and her issues with her brothers were written that plainly across her face. By now, the rumors of their strained relationship had probably trickled down to the commoners.

  Mina peered at the doll. “I’m telling you, you should sell these. They’re lovely.”

  “I could never—”

  “Talented, ain’t she?” Henry kissed her on the cheek. “Got lucky with this one. Never thought I’d find another wife, as old as I was.”

  Marianne rolled her eyes but smiled at him all the same. A clang caught their attention as the oven’s iron door fell from its hinges, black smoke billowing from the opening.

  “Not again,” muttered Henry, rushing for his gloves. Marianne bid them a good day and ran to help him, fanning the smoke with her skirts.

  Adelia watched them for a moment before leaving. They were a kind couple, especially to be taking in children at a time like this. Was it really such an inconvenience for her to leave? It wasn’t like she was needed here, and at least she would have Mina.

  They wandered down the streets in relative silence, while the citizens dashed about with decorations and armfuls of white and gold cloth, hanging lanterns and preparing for the festival. If these were to be her last days in Anadrieth, she was going to enjoy them. Her translations could wait.

  One of the town squares was particularly alight with activity, and an air of tense curiosity hung over the area. They edged through the dense crowd, weaving their way toward the front. People looked annoyed as they pushed through, then backed off as they glanced at their dresses. They probably wouldn’t recognize her as Lady Adelia, but they would definitely recognize them as nobles of some sort. A town crier stood on the central podium, waving a piece of parchment.

  “Attention, all citizens! Lanadrin has officially declared war. An alliance with Eloria is underway. Stand by for further orders!” As he repeated his message, the crowd began to shout, pointing fingers and waving their arms.

  “We’re all going to die!”

  “What can we do?”

  “I knew it!”

  “—they’re not gonna protect us.”

  Decorations abandoned, the crowd jostled and shoved each other forward and back, some attempting to get closer to the crier, while others made their hasty retreat. Adelia was pushed in several different directions at once. She struggled to keep her footing as she reached out for Mina, but she was pushed in the opposite direction. She silently cursed Alexander. He shouldn’t have kept them completely in the dark. It was one thing not to worry people, but this kind of announcement would cause riots.

  Suddenly, the crowd quieted, and everyone’s heads turned in waves toward the middle of the square. They collectively began to edge away, leaving Adelia with a little more room to breathe. She turned toward the podium to see a young man staggering back and forth, shouting unintelligible words in the town crier’s face as one arm flailed while the other hung limply at his side. Skin flaked off in large pieces, and a charcoal tinge stained his body. His neck was rubbery, unable to support his head. Some of the adults covered their children’s eyes, and murmurs rippled through the crowd.

  “Wasn’t that the new blacksmith’s apprentice?”

  “What’s that thing doing here?”

  “It’s not fit to be in society.”

  “Third one this week—”

  “—an undesirable.”

  Adelia shuddered. The undesirable had a stagnant aura, the kind that made one want to turn away. He was the same as the ones kept in the castle, only this one wasn’t tied down. The young man paused, and his eyes rolled in their sockets, staring directly at her. He clambered down from the podium and sprinted toward her with outstretched arms.

  “Ne… nee… need!” he cried.

  The crowd parted in a hurry, as though his disease was contagious. Adelia couldn’t help but stumble back. She knew it couldn’t spread like that, but it was terrifying all the same. Mina pushed her aside, and Adelia hit the floor. The undesirable half-collapsed on top of Mina, clawing his fingers across her skin as she pressed her hands into his face.

  Adelia gasped for air, the hard stone winding her. Through the cacophony of the crowd, she heard a shout.

  “Anchiore!”

  Despite the commotion, there was a moment of complete clarity, as though everything had aligned in perfect harmony, and she could breathe once again. As the crowd dissipated, Adelia clambered to her feet. Mina had her hands on the young man’s head, but she seemed confused. The man, however, was different. He had stopped babbling, and his ragged breathing had slowed. Adelia bent down to peer at him. His pupils contracted, and a slight blush returned to his cheeks as his skin slowly regained its color. She could almost feel the sickness, his aura of rot, disappearing.

  The young man suddenly rolled off of Mina, rubbing his arms and shaking his head. He cleared his throat a few times.

  “Th… thank you,” he wheezed. “I don’t know—I don’t know what…” He stopped, giving Mina his hand and pulling her up. He stared at his palms in wonder. “My strength is back.”

  Adelia rubbed her eyes. An undesirable was incurable—it was a fact. And yet, this young man stood before her, moving and speaking as normal. She grabbed his shoulders, looking him over. His skin had all but lost its grayish sheen, and his eyes had returned to a bright blue.

  “What happened?” she demanded.

  The man’s eyes widened, and he put his hands up. “Don’t know, Ma’am. I was working one minute, and the next… I was here. Haven’t been feeling too good over the past two weeks, but I didn’t think nothing of it.”

  Adelia’s mind raced. She couldn’t let him go. Not that it was her priority, but he could be a key factor in curing the rest of the undesirables. “You need to come with me to see Elaine. What’s your name?”

  “James,” he said. “But Ma’am, I really have to get back to work. He’s gonna kill me for how long—”

  “James, my name is Lady Adelia, and I need you to come back with me.”

  His eyes widened even more, and he bowed deeply. “A-apologies, Milady, I didn’t know.”

  Adelia patted his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. Just come. Oh, Mina.” She had almost forgotten that she was here. “You can have the rest of the day off if you need to do anything. Come by my room later.” She steered James toward the main road, waving to the nearest carriage. As they rode back to the castle, Adelia bombarded him with questions.

  “How old are you?”

  “Just turned sixteen, Milady.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  “My younger sister, Jane. She just started working at the castle.”

  “Parents?”

  “Mama died a long time ago, and
Papa works in the mines.”

  “And your Papa didn’t… experience what you just did?”

  “No, Milady.”

  Adelia rested her chin in her hand, tapping her face. Whatever this was, it didn’t seem to affect children, and it wasn’t passed on by blood, as far as they knew. The feeling she had felt from him was gone, replaced by something different, something strong and sturdy, yet malleable and ever-changing. She shook her head. It didn’t make sense.

  “Can you describe what it was like?”

  James gripped the long apron hanging over his knees. “Freezing. Like everything was wrong with the world. Could hear people screaming at me, see them running, but when I tried to call for help, my body just wouldn’t respond. Felt like time had stopped, it did, like I was wandering in the darkness between worlds, neither here nor there. I know it sounds crazy.” He shook his head, and Adelia nodded for him to continue. “Then, I saw a light, but it wasn’t really a light. I just knew it was the way back home, so I reached out for it. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground in the square.”

  Adelia placed her hand on his. “Did it hurt?”

  “Sorta. I could feel my body rotting on the outside, but it was like it wasn’t mine. The real pain was this…” James pushed his tongue into his cheek as he searched for the word. “Loneliness. Like I’d be the only one there for the rest of time.” He shuddered.

  Adelia couldn’t help but pull him into an embrace, stroking his hair. Poor thing. He must have been terrified. If he was semi-conscious through the whole thing, the others must be, too.

  She didn’t quite understand what he had described, but it was just as convoluted as dragon script. Adelia snapped her fingers. She’d heard something back there. Anchiore. Anchor? She knew the meaning, but there were no ships in Anadrieth, and an anchor was hardly relevant to undesirables.

  Anchor, anchor, anchor…

  They made their way back to the castle, and Adelia dragged him straight to Elaine, who glanced at him once before putting her hands on her hips.

  “What’s a healthy one doing here? Out, child, I’m busy.”