I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) by Marc Secchia (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

“By the Isles!” King Azerim’s green eyes twinkled. “Tell me, what happened to that shy twelve year-old I remember being so smitten by, I could barely speak a word in her presence? She grew up – I see that, although, not so much ‘up’ as –” he chuckled as she waved her finger warningly “– as even more beautiful than ever. I do feel as if I’m living in a land of dreams and I never, ever want to wake up.”

Her black eyes twinkled at him.

“Ever,” he insisted.

The Princess said, “Maybe you are dreaming, but I assure you, it’s all totally Dragon’s fault.”

“I doubt that.”

He smirked at Azania. “I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted, shall I? Or would it be politic if I told your family that you’re awake, first? Because once you ask Azania for her story, you’re liable to be stuck here for a good many hours. Captive audience.”

“Captive King, don’t you mean?” she chirped, with a bright smile that audibly snaffled all the wind out of his sails.

Azerim said, “Oof.”

Azania added, “Besides, wouldn’t you say that, ‘The mighty Dragon-Riding Princess liberated the King from abject captivity in the most nefarious tower in all the land,’ has a nice ring to it?”

“Oh, demoted to the sidekick in this plot line, am I?” Dragon growled.

“Whatever suits.”

Azerim said, “If I am asked for honesty, I’d have to say, ‘Aye and nay.’ Nay because that place was hateful, but aye because you came to rescue me.”

Their glances danced shyly for a moment.

Time to work on some actual diplomacy, for a change. How to withdraw?

“Dragon, please do inform my family that I’m awake, if you’d be so kind, or we’ll never hear the end of it. I’m ravenous as well. Jail rations do not agree with this man’s appetite. Azania – wow!” He flushed. “I’m saying that a lot, aren’t I?”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Just admit it’s her trousers,” Dragon put in, helpful as always.

“A gentleman would not look,” he said gallantly. “However, I shall evermore blame a drug-induced delirium for my severe failings.”

Dragon, I’m going to spread your guts on toast, she informed him pleasantly.

Oh, don’t stop. This is far too much fun.

Rising from the stool, she walked over to the window, pirouetted, and said, “You like, Azerim? Give me a moment, I’ll just kick this rude Dragon out.”

His eyes appear to be pinned to your hips, Highness.

Plus, his jaw was in distinct danger of dislocation. Nice one, Princess!

She pushed the window shut on his muzzle, grinned at him through the glass, and said, My heart’s wriggling with happiness. Dragon, you’re the best. Thank you!

You’re going to make such beautiful children together –

Dragon! You’re impossible!

Maybe he was, but spreading love and happiness was also infectious. He wandered off to inflict wonderful news on a few more people, raising screams of joy from the younger two brothers, undignified yelling from Princes number two and three, another near-faint from the Queen and loud demands from the older King for a wheelchair and his robe, this instant!

Why was it that other peoples’ families were oftentimes easier than one’s own?

Same for Azania. He must help her navigate this. Still, he knew that she would manage far more graciously than he.

* * * *

King Azerim slept the deep sleep of a young man exhausted by three days of chatting up the most beautiful woman in the seventeen realms. Dragon sympathised. Once the seventeen year-old Princess and the twenty-one year-old King managed to start to relax around one another, and the family left them alone for a change – Queen’s orders, wink, wink – there was a great deal to talk about.

Yawn.

Human romance. Might they even progress to holding hands soon?

Charcoal sticks scraped upon a set of new sketches he was producing for the royal family. When he completed the King, Queen and their five sons, he planned to produce a much larger composite artwork framed in his mind; that of their reunion about Azerim’s sickbed, with tiny Azania perched right in the middle of the boisterous family. He had also sketched out and was now beginning to colour an underwater reef scene – oh, and he had a picture of Wavewhisperer in progress, too. His art never seemed to stand still. Inspiration always overtook him in eager waves.

With Princess Azania assisting at a meeting on Human-Dragon relations this afternoon, he had been left to his own devices. Time enough for the draconic viewpoint later. The King wanted to lay careful groundwork, especially considering what had just been done to his four northern Lords.

People wanted assurances.

He loved the solitude. Oh, alright. He also loved the fact that hundreds of people lined the Palace fence just to get a glimpse of the scaly white artist.

Tomorrow, the two Kings planned to receive visitors at this very window – to open the grounds to the public in a celebration of his homecoming. Also, there might be an opportunity to show off the Black Rose of the Desert. There would be music and cultural dancing, and free food and drink.

Blergh.

Must plot his escape. All this being nice to everyone gave a Dragon a fearful itch.

Azerim said, “Have I told you how deathly boring it is waiting for a few cuts to heal, Dragon?”

He looked up from his work. The clear green eyes were open again. Someone had artfully trimmed the royal bush and turned his stubble into what looked like flames rising from the line of the King’s jaw. Azania would love that! Still no kissing yet, either. Apparently the relationship was too embryonic and nuanced for that kind of mischief, despite what he was beginning to learn was a very wide rebellious streak in the joker of the family, one Azerim.

Not that the couple needed encouragement.