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

Obviously not one of the fainting mob.

Go he did. A series of rapid, circumscribed wingbeats saw him clear the rooftops without slamming his wings into any of the houses. Beating a town flat? Straight to the top of his to-do list. Dragon swung up over the town, dislodging a couple of roof tiles with the blast of his passage. Little white dots of faces swung about to follow his progress as he surged up over the large battlements, and baulked at the last. The courtyard below looked less than immense.

“Battlements?” he suggested to Yardi.

“You’re the Dragon.”

“Undeniably.”

Clearly, the couple of soldiers stationed upon this stolid, eight-foot-thick battlement knew what to do when their doom was upon them. They fainted. Shocked, Dragon performed a landing lunge that both bruised his sternum and put him in position to catch one of the hapless fools before he fell fifteen feet into the courtyard below.

“Nitwit!” he snarled.

“Excellent reflexes, Dragon,” Yarimda approved. “Pop him out of the way, the poor boy. Oh, quite the reception.”

He glanced up. A confused crowd milled in the large main doorway of the castle, at the top of a low set of stairs that repeated the semicircle pattern. Nobles, perhaps, or courtiers. All were richly dressed. The girl in the front wore a tiara – she was perhaps Azania’s age, but as pale as his Princess was dark, and her hair beneath the simple tiara was straight and blonde in contrast to the fine sable curls of the desert-born. Her face was sweet and open, but this one clearly had some sort of backbone, for she stood apart amongst her court for her serenity as she faced most likely the largest Dragon anyone in this Kingdom had ever seen.

Definite potential.

Hearing Chalice’s paw step approaching in the tunnel below and to his left that must lead into the courtyard, he poured down off the balcony with all the sinuous grace he could muster.

Bowing upon his foreleg, he smiled and said, “Princess Yuali, may I present –”

At least twenty people atop the steps promptly fainted – actually, all of the females bar the Princess, who turned the colour of a freshly starched sheet, but held her nerve. Not only that, but every swain and companion from the youngest to a sprightly, white-bearded elder of some sort, caught their female in their arms and lowered them solicitously upon an arm or a lap. Rehearsed? All except for the two younger men who flanked Princess Yuali. They were left standing in foolish tableaux, hands extended as if pleading for their lives.

The males set about reviving the females with smelling salts and, in some cases, kisses or tender entreaties.

How truly bizarre.

The blonde Princess descended the steps gracefully, extending her hands in greeting. “Azania! I bid you most warmly and royally welcome to the Kingdom of Amboraine.”

“Uh, that’s Azania. I’m Inzashu, her younger sister.”

“Azania – Azania! I am so sorry, I had no idea – you’re so tiny – ah … I mean, welcome, Princesses. Oh, another Dragon? You truly travel in style.”

“I am a Dragon Rider, and this is my magnificent Dragon,” she said proudly.

He growled in pleasure. Magnificent! Now, when could he have that inked on a scroll and sealed with the royal seal? Or, could she be tugging his wingtips?

“Oh!” cried the foreign Princess. This time, surely, she would faint … but no. With a gracious gesture, she added, “Welcome to Amboraine, Dragons. We have never received quite such a delegation before. I apologise, but my father the King is not available to receive you, nor the Queen.”

“We heard the news,” Azania said, clasping the other girl’s hands as if intent upon keeping her on her feet. “I trust your father will return safely. Inzashu has a healing gift. If we can be of any assistance, please allow us to offer help.”

“We’d be most honoured.”

Her courtiers began to revive as Dragon helped Yarimda dismount, and the Princess indicated that servants should come and help with their belongings. That more than half fainted along the way attracted no comment whatsoever. Yuali meantime made introductions. The two younger men who had flanked her were her fourteen year-old twin brothers Garaine and Ramuine; both appeared very much taken with Inzashu, kissing her upon either hand simultaneously. She did not know what to make of that!

Dragon considered threatening to trim their fingers if they did not keep their hands to themselves. He had heard things about teenage boys one could not repeat in polite company.

Queen Sahira had taken to her bed, indisposed, at the news of her husband’s accident. Azania passed the Princess the pouch of scrolls from her brother, stating that she was looking forward to the day that they became family.

“Your cloak, Your Highness?”

“Thank you,” said Azania, slipping the sodden garment off her shoulders.

There was a collective gasp around the courtyard.

Most of the men collapsed on the spot.

Dozens of women cried, “Oh, the scandal!” and did another round of fainting of their own – delicately folding up upon their male companions once more, Dragon noticed with an eye which was growing severely jaundiced due to all these vapid goings-on. Not one lovely coiffed head struck a stone. All landed with miraculous poise and perfection upon an arm, a chest, a lap. What strange malady afflicted Amboraine?

Princess Azania smiled uncertainly at her hostess. “Woman in battle gear?”

Yuali nodded. “You wear … those? Wow.”

“Riding a Dragon wearing skirts would be ridiculously impractical.”

“Of course.”

A few more men fainted. All of the servants had dropped like flies. He quickly checked that no-one else was trying to throw themselves off a battlement. Oh, alright. Toss good behaviour in the Lumis Ocean, by his wings!

He growled, “Princess Yuali, tell me truly, is fainting a national