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My eyes slip from my mother to Atlas. There's awe in his face when I expected to see jealousy. All his life, he's wanted to bond with and ride a dragon, and here I am with a Frost Dragon. He flashes me one of his warm and reassuring smiles and jerks his chin toward the dragon, as if to say, talk to her.
"Do you think she remembers me?" I whisper to my mother.
Sylvane eats the distance between us and drapes her arm across my shoulders. "Oh yes, she knows exactly who you are."
Though Seraxes' judgmental glare is all I can focus on, there's a pain and anger in her face that's clearly hard to miss. She flicks her head, feigning disinterest, but I swear, if I stepped inside the pen, she wouldn't hesitate to freeze me with one blast of frost.
"Why does she look like she's ready to swallow me whole?"
"Seraxes is fiercely independent, but now that you're back, she will have to learn to obey your voice and bend to your will. You will have to establish trust as her partner."
"And if she doesn't want me?" The question breaks my heart.
"Whether she likes it or not," Sylvane says, "you two need each other. Without a rider, Seraxes will never join the ranks of the Orhelle."
"Orhelle?"
"When rider and dragon complete their training together, they join the ranks of Orhelle, an elite group of warriors." Sylvane pulls the neck of her shirt over her shoulder and shows her ornate tattoos. "Every Basilius rider has these tattooed on their shoulders. If you do not take your place as a dragon rider, our people will not recognize you as a true Elowen royal."
"Wait!" My heart thunders. "Are you saying you want me to ride her?"
She tilts her head and odd curiosity flashes across her pale face. "What else would one do with a dragon?" When I don't say anything, she places her hands on either side of my face and softly says, "Whether you admit it or not, you are Aurelia Basilius-Sol, and you are a dragon rider. Take your place at our table. Be who you were born to be and do not be afraid."
She abruptly releases me when someone calls out to her from the front door and casts me one last look as she walks away. "Your first lesson is tomorrow. I will have riding leathers sent to your room."
Even if I wanted to argue, she gives me no opportunity to as she disappears down the corridor.
Thirty-Three
Shaye
As promised, the next morning when I wake up, a box is delivered with a handwritten note attached.
Put these on and meet me at Fendruil after breakfast for your first lesson. You may bring your bodyguard. Sylvane.
There is no room for argument and oddly enough, I'm not interested in combating her orders. Sure, riding a dragon scares the hell out of me, but it also sets my soul ablaze, as if I was always meant for this life.
The rest of the morning is a blur. Once I've put the white riding leathers on, I meet my friends for breakfast and tell them where I'll be. Nyx is more than happy to accompany me for guard duty, and it nearly cleaves my heart in two when I tell him Atlas will be joining me instead, since he is who my mother believes is my bodyguard.
Atlas doesn't say much during our morning meal, but when I stand to leave, he quickly hops to his feet and smiles down at me as we make our way to the castle rooftop where the birds are waiting. "Don't fall off."
I can hear the concern in his voice despite the teasing delivery and I bob my head. "I will do my best to keep my seat."
When we finally make it to Fendruil, Sylvane catches sight of us as we make our way down toward the dragon pens. "You made it."
"We made it."
"First thing's first. Let me get a good look at you." She motions for me to spin, and I oblige, turning in a circle. She smiles with an approving nod. "You look like a Basilius."
"I might look the part, but I feel like an imposter," I admit, my eyes darting behind my mother at the other Basilius riders gathered to practice – or watch me fail – I'm not entirely sure yet.
"It will take some getting used to." She steps in my direct line of sight of the others, drawing my gaze. "Basilius blood runs through your veins, so I have no doubt that you will catch on quickly."
"And if I don't?" I ask, but don't get an answer, because a roar from the dragon stable rips through the mountain.
"What was that?" Atlas steps closer to me.
"That would be Seraxes," Sylvane sighs wearily. "She is reluctant to don her saddle, granted she's not used to wearing one the way her fellow dragons are."
