An unfamiliar face flashed into the hall. A slender stranger in a cloak of improvised scales and claw clasps was strolling between the dancing couples. Is he choosing a partner? For some reason Graymores heart sank at the sight of him. He wore a mask that mimicked a dragon. But there were many who wore such masks now. After all, the skinned dragons are not available to all, but only to the victors. So others order dragon masks for themselves. It is also a kind of luxury.
The stranger wore expensive jewelry. Even ministers would have admired his rings. Perhaps he was some kind of overseas king. Graymore herself had not yet been crowned. She is tacitly recognized as ruler, since she alone can protect the state from dragons, but her brothers are still alive and settled in foreign lands. Before the coronation, their renunciation of rights to the throne in favor of his sister must be settled.
The stranger who attracted Graymores attention may be their messenger. The princess has decided to ignore principles and violate etiquette. Why cant the winner be allowed to have one dance? It was as if the stranger was waiting and looking for just her.
He said nothing, but it seemed to her that he called out to her.
The few candelabras in the hall and the chandelier went out. A gust of wind that blew in through the window must have extinguished them. The ball continued in the shaded surroundings. No one would even notice that she had broken the rules. Graymore stepped toward the stranger. There was no invitation to dance, but he eagerly put his arm around her waist and spun her around in a dance. This was a dance that Graymore did not know. The steps were too complicated. Sometimes she had to fly above the floor in her partners arms. Maybe he was an elf with his wings hidden under his cloak.
«Are you from the northern woods?» Graymore broke the prohibition against talking. It is unlikely that the spirit of a captive dragon had come for her to speak to her on purpose. Most likely she was a winter elf, as the northern woods are full of them. The thickets there are teeming with the harsh but beautiful elves of winter. Since they themselves for their stubborn temperament are not invited anywhere, what could he do but sneak into the ball.
Her partner said nothing. And his hands were not cold at all. Maybe it was the velvet gloves. The gloves threatened to turn into mittens, because sharp golden fingernails protruded from his fingers. They were red-hot to the touch. Graymore even burned herself on them. She guessed her partner wasnt a winter elf after all. Otherwise he would have brought the cold with him to the castle. But then again, if he were a dragon-agent, the candelabra wouldnt be extinguished by his approach. As soon as dragon ambassadors arrive or fly in, all the candles are ablaze. Graymore knew this for a fact, for once a dragon-worshipped minstrel was sent to her to declare dragon war. There was fire in the dragon-slaves eyes. As he spoke, sparks spewed. As he entered the throne room, all the fireplaces and candles flickered, even the pillars. But once Graymore had defeated the dragons and unmasked the minstrel, he was just a shy boy who claimed to have been grabbed by a clawed paw at a dusty crossroads and dragged off into the heavens. That was all he could recall. Before his captivity, he had heard a voice calling to the crossroads, telling him to obey. But dragons cant talk, can they?
Could her dancing partner speak?
He just picked her up and almost flew above the floor with her.
«You are not one of my courtiers!» She looked closely at the eyes beneath his mask. They were golden as sparks. «You are not a knight, nor an advisor, nor an ambassador! I do not know you.»
«You know me!» The voice beneath the mask resembled a hiss, but it caressed the ear nonetheless.
«And who are you?»
«Suppose I am your conscience.»
«How interesting is it!» Graymore snorted, suspecting something fishy. It is time to call for the guards, for she is unarmed now. Even the dagger she usually wore behind her corsage she had left in her bedroom. She should have known that even on the day of her victory over the dragons there would be danger! Today is her triumph, after all, and an attractive and dangerous stranger leans toward her and whispers as if she has lost.
«I am your conscience! I am your destiny!»
Graymore tore off his mask and screamed. Beneath the mask blazed solid fire. The stranger had no face at all. Only flickers of flame burst from the exquisite jabot, forming a head. The dancer turned into a pillar of fire, hovering above the hall. Graymore fell to the floor as soon as he let her out. There were no burns on her, but it was as hot as the inside of a furnace.
Graymore screamed for so long until the column of fire, formerly a stranger, dissolved into darkness. The candelabra in the hall were lit at a very bad time. Everyone could see that the dragon-winner was screaming in terror. The crowd stared at Graymore in bewilderment.
«Perhaps shes had too much to drink,» the guests whispered.
«Its bad luck to scare a dragon maiden on her moment of triumph,» the ministers murmured.
Graymore could hear every rustle and understand the words of any who stood far away. Her hearing was sharpened. It sounded like someones magical interference.
The situation was uncomfortable. Graymore jumped up from the floor and hurried out of the ballroom. Outside the windows, the motley lights of the fireworks were still blooming. They resembled heavenly bouquets.
How marvelous that after the deadly dragon fire, the skies above the city were lit with multicolored flames of joy. Graymore did not immediately see the dark dragons silhouette, which almost merged with the darkness of the night. The dragon hovered above the towers, displaying its spiky tail as if taunting:
«You wont catch me!»
Before Graymore could raise the alarm, the dragon vanished into the night.
Enchanted Princess
The events of the feast were delicately silenced. Compromising the future queen was not an option. Well, if its not too much to drink! It happens to everyone! Graymore had never had more than a glass of wine in an evening, but who would believe her. She acted like a madwoman or bewitched at the ball.
You cant blame magicians you dont even know. Such accusations had been made before. Back in her childhood days, when healers had failed to cure a strange ailment that caused her whole body to burn as if she were being burned at the stake.
Some sorcerer had bewitched her. So it was said, at any rate. Was it rumor or truth? Where did the frail girl get her strength when it came to fighting dragons? Where did her magical instinct for approaching dragons come from? If she is not enchanted, then there is no explanation.
She was probably enchanted out of goodwill. The internal fever that heralded the approaching dragons could be considered a curse. But the gift of defeating monsters was itself a blessing. It was probably the gift of some good fairy who had decided to protect the whole country. Livellin had been besieged by dragon packs for centuries. The kingdom bordered the mountains on all sides, where in all likelihood, there were dragon nests. Somehow the neighboring countries suffered less from dragons raids. Dragons raids happened to them once or twice a year. But to Livellin, dragons were drawn like a magnet. What do they all want here?
«They want you!» A small voice inside Graymores mind prompted.
Probably some joking spirit spoke to her. Graymore brushed the voice aside.
She could also have been summoned in this way by a court wizard. Though the Council of Magicians had long since been banished, and there was still one powerful wizard in the castle, Gryamore would not consult him now. He would appear before him, and in a mentor-like tone he would begin to instruct her in the right thing to do. All his advice took the form of orders.
Once she was officially crowned queen, Graymore would not let anyone else tell her what to do. She would change the rules at Livellins court as she saw fit, too. There will be no more days of stupor after defeating a dragon.
She proved at the ball that it is possible to break a condition and still not be caught by captive dragons. She wasnt being guided by any of them right now.
«Youre so sure of that?» The cryptic voices sounded as if they were coming from the cellar, but dragons cant talk.
Graymore knocked the goblet of wine to the floor. She must not drink another drop of spirits! Its time to switch to milk and fruit nectar. Milk and fruit nectar would never get you drunk. The wine poured out red on the marble floor, a reminder of blood.
A dragons face was in the pool. Graymore flinched, glancing toward the window. There was no dragon hovering outside. She shuddered as if a dragon had gotten cocky enough to peek through the window and reflect in the spilled wine.
Those dragons! They drew Graymore to themselves like a magnet.
The blood of dragons drew her from a distance. And now she felt a dragon at her side. Well, not exactly near. It was somewhere on the edge of the kingdom. Graymores secret vision immediately awoke, and she stopped listening to the ambassador, who had arrived with some sort of report and was now reading it out. The dragon is near, and she sits idle. It is time to grab her bow and sword.
The dragons fiery blood drew her like a magnet. Its distant scent served as a stimulant. Not because the dragon was hurt, but because everything in Graymore flashed at the feeling of having a dragon near. And its veins flowed with spontaneous blood.
There was a prophecy that the mountain dragon would be her destiny. Probably it was because from its scales she would make a perfect chain-mail for herself and become a great knight. Everyone knows that armor made of dragon scales cannot be penetrated by arrows or blades and does not burn. She needs such armor, which means she must capture the dragon. With dragon armor, she will become a great knight who can fight not only dragons but armies of men alone, and only such a knight can rule a kingdom.
That is how Graymore interpreted the prophecy. She would have to marry one of her cousins who would become king. And she wanted to rule herself. She didnt want a husband who would limit her power at all. To be an autocrat-that is the main goal! And for that she would have to try and prove herself a true heroine.
It was a pity that not all dragons were suited to be skinned and fitted with ideal armor. She needed a special dragon whose scales would not fade after they were flayed from the skin. Graymore had already checked all the dragons she had captured. Once she peeled back the colorful scales, they faded and became colorless. So these dragons are no good. She would have to look for a special one. She wondered if there was a dragon like that nestled on the fringes of her domain. He was in a province somewhere, just outside the southern ridge of the mountains. Graymore was trying to pinpoint its exact location when heralds announced an urgent messenger.
It is a dragon! It is on the southern border of Livellin! It has burned the vineyards and wineries of your subjects, dried with its breath several rivers, destroyed the frontier fort, and neighbors say that before it flew to us, it incinerated a small country by the sea.»
Graymore wondered:
«Did the dragon make demands? Had he bewitched someone to deliver an ultimatum through his lips? Did he demand that cattle or innocent girls be sacrificed to him?»
Usually dragons demanded a dozen sheep a week and a few virgins for a snack. The scholars were certain that dragons needed virgins to perform witchcraft rituals.
Whether dragons knew how to conjure by performing rituals, Graymore did not know. But they did possess a certain ability to perform enchantments. Usually all of their witchcraft talents were limited to suggestion. They could hypnotize a man with one look. But when Graymore looked the dragons in the eye, they had no power over her. It was the further proof that she was bewitched.
«The dragon has not yet made any demands, Your Highness I mean, majesty,» the messenger did not know how to address her. The formalities were of no concern to Graymore. She will be crowned in due course. She will prove to all that she is capable of reigning alone.
But why did the boundary dragon have power over her? She burned with the feeling that he was close. She was drawn to him as if he was a lover, and yet he was a rival. With every dragon Graymore fought as if she were fighting for power. If she lost once, she would lose her chance to rule the kingdom. But she cannot lose, for she is enchanted.
«I promise to solve the dragon problem,» she waved graciously at the messenger. «Go back to your own land, and tell the people have nothing to fear.»
«But there are none left, my lady. They are all burnt!»
So they are! Graymore tapped the armrests of the throne with annoyance.
The mesmerizing voice in her brain sounded more insistent.
«Come to me!»
Graymore felt her body being caressed by streams of flame. They were no longer burning, but pleasurable. She basked in them as in a warm, fragrant bath.
The fire around her body was invisible, or the messenger and the ambassador, whose report had been indelicately interrupted, would have run away screaming.
«Its dangerous, my lady!» muttered the messenger. «All those who went to scout have not returned. Many of the glorious knights were left with only burned armor.»
«Mountain dragons are usually full of treasure,» said Graymore dreamily. She was not afraid of being burned. When has a single dragon ever been able to fight her? She alone is stronger than all of them.
«There was probably an exception waiting ahead.»
There was that intrusive voice in her brain again!
Graymore focused her attention on the messenger. He was shabby and frightened.
«Have you come to ask for help?»
«Yes, my lady!»
«Well, I assure you of it.»
«But youre not going to fight him yourself, are you, my lady?» The messenger blushed to his ears and shrank back. «I hear you are a great champion of dragons.»
«And you doubt I can defeat a dragon?»
«Well,» the messenger blushed even more. «You are not the giantess I was told you were. Youre just a pretty lady.»
«Go on, scram!» Graymore was furious. «Youll find out how fearsome pretty ladies can be!»
The ambassador thought it best to go away. Immediately Graymore regretted her overreaction. She should have had the poor man fed in the palace kitchen and given him a bed for the night. It was clear from his emaciated appearance that he had been running for days.
And why did one dragon seem more dangerous to him than a pack? He should have seen the recent dragon raid on the capital of Livellin! He must have slept through every dragon attack. Thered been a few in recent years. If this was the first dragon hed ever seen in his life, then no wonder hed be so startled.
Shed seen enough dragons herself. They dont scare her. Though there was something peculiar about this dragon. Graymore could feel him at a distance, and fire coursed through her veins.
«Come to me, Princess!»