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

said steadily, “I would thank you for not shaming me in front of my charges. I run a registered orphanage here in Dorline, and what you see is my apprenticeship programme. I am training these children to be smiths, farriers, armourers, leather artisans and the like, so that one day, they can take their place in the world with a trade that will feed their families. I have thirty-two children here and another fourteen placed in other apprenticeships around the city.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Azania put in softly. Chalice agreed in the background.

He glanced at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Aye – uh, is this your … daughter, Yardi? And Dragons? What are you doing here with Dragons?”

The insult! He had only just noticed? Dragon pictured serving his head up on a large toothpick. Brains, fried, scrambled and spiced to perfection. Mmm …

It was Yardi’s turn, pink of cheek, to gaze at her feet. He understood that this was courtship behaviour, usually between younger Humans – more Azania’s age, say. This pretence of reticence from both sides, which concealed all the other emotions. He sense scented attraction beneath all the hurts. It flung him away into the scent memory of a younger Dragon’s blundering attempts to impress various Dragonesses, which had inevitably ended in shame.

Except with Ariamyrielle Seaspray.

Somehow, having done nothing at all, it seemed he had managed to make an impression on her – following which, fate had turned around and paw-slapped him with a blow fit to shatter mountains.

Sigh.

Collecting his thoughts as Azania introduced him and herself as his Dragon Rider, no relation to Yardi, he wondered how a Dragon could possibly insert a talon and stir this fate in the right direction. Him being such a flaming genius at relationships and all that.

He said, “You seem busy, Blacksmith Garan.”

“Aye, but profits are poor. It’s been a brutal stretch.” Scratching his head, he said almost defiantly, “After your family made sure I was kicked out of Hamirythe and my reputation ruined, Yardi, I ended up here. I inherited a mountain of debt from my mother and the use of this place, which was covered by a punitive loan that crushed my parents. The stress killed them. I took over here on my twenty-second birthday.”

“What changed you, Garan?” Yardi asked, ever so softly.

His fingers trembled. “Y-You … actually. What I did – I’ve never regretted anything so much in my life – I searched for you for three years, woman! All over the Northern Kingdoms.”

“I ended up in Chakkix Camp.”

“Chakkix? That’s –”

“Northern T’nagru. You … searched?”

He heaved a massive, defeated sigh. “What does it matter? What are you doing here, Yardi-mae? Look, I don’t … have time for a … for this. I’ve mouths to feed. Times are hard. This may look like a busy operation, but we are stretched to breaking point, what with the new taxation regulations and a drop in business since the war with the Slasher Clan ended – which is good, but not good, if you follow my meaning.”

She nodded, biting her lip.

“Have you business for me? I will take anything you have and give you the best prices in town. You’ve seen the quality of our work.”

Poor Yardi. Dragon smelled her out once more, and purred at once, “Actually, Blacksmith Garan, you sound like just the man we need.” He ignored his companion’s startled headshake. “There is war in the south, A Skartunese invasion – this is the Princess of T’nagru, by the way.”

His jaw dropped. “Ma … uh …”

“I know. Far too beautiful for her own good, isn’t she? Anyways, we’re recruiting blacksmiths to support the war effort, and that’s where you come in.”

The man’s eyes jumped all over the place – Dragon to Dragoness, then to the Princess who quietly apologised for her Dragon’s behaviour, and then to Yardi, where they lingered – absolutely unmistakably, his gaze lingered. With intent. Since the dawn of time, Dragons and Dragonesses had looked each other over just like that. Clear enough that his feelings might as well have been inked upon a scroll.

“No. With respect, Dragon, no,” he grated. “I am not your man. I can’t leave this, don’t you see?”

Dragon stroked his chin as if taking a pause for thought. In reality, he was begging Yardi to intervene, but she had lost her tongue. “Why don’t we just take all of you?”

“All?” Azania, Yardi, Chalice and Garan gasped at once.

“Everything. All. Was I unclear? Every last child, even those in your nursery over there.”

“These children depend on me. I have responsibilities. Look, Dragon, you can’t just come stomping in here and upend everything I’ve worked so hard for.”

“Ah, but I can. I’m a Dragon. Excuse me – achoo!” He sneezed aside, very careful to aim at no-one. Flame licked out of his nostrils. “Look, Garan, you can’t just refuse us until you know what we’re offering.”

He twined his arms across his chest, still shaking his head. Brawny fellow; Yardi’s surreptitious glance betrayed her appreciation of his powerful biceps and forearms. There. Humans and Dragons were more alike than anyone supposed. Size mattered.

He had this under control.

His Princess said, “What are you suggesting, Dragon?”

“Do you have an office, Garan? Somewhere we can talk in private?”

“That door.”

“Good. Let’s go over there.”

At the doorway, everyone paused. No Dragon could fit inside his cluttered office, but that was hardly the point. With a grin as wicked as the points of his fangs, Dragon raised a paw and gently but unstoppably pushed Yardi and Garan inside together. “Talk.”

Yardi’s glare behind the blacksmith’s back was a study in fury … and yearning.

The blacksmith spluttered, “And what are you going to do, Dragon?”

“Me? I am going to ask your nice apprentices to file my talons and burnish my scales.