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

some of those do have to do with differences. Smallness, darkness, crazy curly hair, physical magnetism, and let us never forget the ability to make trousers smoke –”

“Dragon! Serious conversation. Mmm?”

He pressed his talon to her lips. “Be silent until I have finished being exasperating. Now, where was I? Aye, more importantly, I could expound many points relating to your character and deeds, and the fact that some people are born into royalty and some are royal, and there’s a royally enormous difference right there. Second talon, you were and are no accident! What a frightful pile of droppings that statement was, I can hardly begin to spit off the end of my forked tongue. Do we understand one another?”

She nodded meekly.

Dragon narrowed his eyes. In his experience, meekness and Azania did not belong in the same sentence. Not even in the same book!

He removed his talon.

“It’s all black and white to me,” she smiled. “Black Princess, white Dragon. No wonder we make such an awesome team.”

They shook paw and hand solemnly.

He said, “You know, we might be as different creatures as can be imagined, but sometimes I could almost swear that we were cut of the same hide and scale.”

Azania, nodding, started as her gaze fell upon his neck. “Yarimda, are you alright?”

“Never better, my dear,” she said. “I love hearing you and Dragon speak. Hands down, that was one of the best conversations I have ever eavesdropped upon in my nine and a half decades. Believe me, keyholes and my right ear used to be extremely well acquainted. It gives me hope for both races, Dragon and Human, and peace for when I pass on, knowing that two creatures of integrity will be stirring up trouble from one end of the continent to the other.”

The Princess dropped her gaze, quite possibly as embarrassed as he was.

“Yardi’s beckoning for us. Shake a paw, Dragons. I shan’t be growing younger any time soon.”

They walked farther up into the walled city before taking a branching road toward the east. Yarimda rode upon his neck as if she were a queen.

The city’s unrelenting white continued out into the mercantile and artisans quarter, but here at least people noticed them and paused to stare or comment to their neighbours. He understood that Dorline had been the subject of a decades-long feud with the Slasher Clan Dragons, but the populace did not seem to be alarmed. Maybe that was because they were not wheeling overhead thundering threats and swooping to fire-blast houses, just as a consideration?

“We’re looking for Gamoz Blacksmith’s place,” Yardi said. “Apparently, we can’t miss it. They’re the biggest and best in the kingdom, and well-staffed. Even better, Dorline is famed for the quality of its weapons and armour. They said the same in Amboraine.”

Azania said, “Will that couple you recruited travel here first?”

“Aye. They’re game for an adventure.”

“Here comes the guard,” her grandmother pointed out.

Not everyone had their heads stuffed full of clouds. The city guard, clad in natty green robes and wearing full chainmail armour, trotted down the street in neat, businesslike formation. Ready for action, but aye, since no great effort at pillaging, snorting fire and stomping over the merchandise was being made, the fifty-strong detachment visibly relaxed as they approached.

Routine. Couple of Dragons in town.

Chalice nudged his shoulder. “Amazing how creatures can get on when we’re not ripping heads off or having knights poke at us with lances, right?”

“Absolutely,” he purred. “Almost civilised.”

“Product of high intelligence,” the Dragoness agreed. “Truly innovative, actual diplomacy.”

“Help me down please, Dragon.” With the help of his forepaw, Yarimda descended. She arranged her knees with a soft groan, and leaned heavily upon her walking stick. “Some things about growing old are not to be enjoyed.”

The leader of the detachment, distinguished by a green star he wore upon his chest, took pause as he stopped ten feet away. “Do I know you, ma’am?”

“Conquiran Garamdi! Well met!” Yarimda said.

“Yarimda-mah Ociane?” he spluttered, bowing a second time, deeper than before. “An unexpected honour. You are looking very well.”

Dragon looked on in bemusement as the old woman straightened, as if a memory of being pervaded her person. Regal. “It is good to see you again, lad. I’d say something embarrassing, like, ‘my, how you’ve grown,’ but your men are listening. May I present my granddaughter, Yardi-mae Ociane?”

Another bow. “Ma’am. I see the resemblance.”

Yardi made an uncomfortable obeisance. “Conquiran Garamdi – you are the leader of all of Dorline’s military?”

“Goes with the title, ma’am.” Clearing his throat, he said, “It is most awkward, I confess, but I must inquire what two women of your station are doing in our kingdom in the company of a disreputable desert scoundrel and two dangerous Dragons.”

Station? Whatever did he mean?

He could have fallen over laughing at Azania’s belligerent expression.

“Behave yourself, scoundrel,” he whispered for her ears alone.

She clenched her little fists. “Dragon …”

Yarimda said, “While we are in town, we should like to brief you about the Skartun invasion of the south, Conquiran. Our companions are travelling through with us and mean this city and its people no harm. We seek to hire armourers and blacksmiths for the war effort. For my part, I plan to travel back to my native Hamirythe one last time. I would like to heal a rift in our family which has been allowed to fester for far too long. I know you are aware of the history, and of my part in it.”

“I am, ma’am,” he said, his eyes resting upon Azania’s sword.

She smiled at the Conquiran as if his suspicion were the stuff of delightful sunbeams.

Suddenly, his knee collapsed as if he had been struck by a ten-pound hammer. “I fear I have made an unforgivable error! Forgive me – you are the daughter of King