Page 11 of To Fight and To Fold

The feeling was so strong, so jarring, that she carefully removed her hand from Thea’s touch. “It’s not—it's my connection to Starspark,” she said, and hid her hand from view by thrusting it into the basket of goodies she’d brought. She felt embarrassed suddenly, and wondered why she'd want to hide it, because she often enjoyed the benefits it provided her: the still mind-boggling magical tether to her dragon, her status, her easy movement through the castle.

“What are you in the mood for today? Cheese? Bread? Fruit?”

Thea didn’t answer, and Aaryn glanced up to find the abyss of that gaze trained on her, dissecting, studying. Then she blinked, and the softness returned to her features. “Surprise me.”

Aaryn breathed easier, and laughed softly, an end slate clearing the awkwardness of the moment. “While my quests are trivial compared to yours, I did successfully acquire all of the above on my mission.”

“Daring,” Thea teased, and nudged her with her shoulder. “Your success rate is astonishing.”

Beneath the full tree they sat under, the sun broke through the leaves, dappling the heather-horned knight beside her. Aaryn shook herself out of her stare and arranged the bread, cheese, and fruit she’d purchased.

“A feast,” she said as she laid it out.

“Very much appreciated, Tethered Aaryn,” Thea said, and Aaryn’s cheeks flushed at the proper title. “As I’m famished.”

But her gaze was not on the ripe strawberries and fresh bread. Instead her attention was focused on Aaryn.

“You’ve been through quite an ordeal,” Jarrick said suddenly, and Aaryn jolted, coming back to herself, her surroundings, as the memory faded and the reality of her situation settled on her shoulders.

She rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, prince—your majesty! I’ve forgotten my place⁠—”

The prince lifted a hand. “Please, Tethered, no apologies necessary. Let me escort you back to your rooms.” He paused. “Assuming you have the doctor’s clearance.”

The doctor nodded and pushed thin frames up on his nose. “Yes, of course. No lingering symptoms. I think you’ll be fine with a little rest, Tethered Aaryn.”

Jarrick clapped his hands, slightly startling her. “You heard the man. Let’s get you home, and safe,” he said, and offered her a gracious nod.

Aaryn slipped off the table and to her feet, finding her balance easily. She flushed at the prince’s bright green gaze, his kind smile. “Your majesty, I couldn’t possibly accept and distract you from your duties⁠—”

“Nonsense,” he said, waving a hand and offering her his arm. “Besides, what falls in line with my duties more than making sure our Tethered are taken care of, hm?”

The prince—well, the prince did whatever he wanted. He was the prince.

And apparently, at this moment, that was to escort her back to her room.

3

THE HEART

Thea clung tightly to Starspark's neck as her destination came into view. The glimmer circling her target faded momentarily, and as she passed through the opening, she felt the tickle of magic over her skin.

A grassy knoll grew closer, closer. Starspark’s feet landed silently, impressive for such a young dragon, and yet Thea wasn’t surprised. Starspark may not like her, but Evergale had trained him to heed the commands of whoever was on his back.

The majestic beast beneath her huffed, lowering his head to the ground diligently, but stiff. He was unhappy. She could feel it in the tension of his neck, gripped tightly between her thighs.

"Thank you for getting me here safely," she told him, as much truth as it was distraction. A few familiar faces arrived, and they approached the dragon carefully, politely.

“Easy, big fella,” a young woman called with a kind voice. In her hand was a bucket of smelly meat that Thea could unfortunately smell from her seat.

“Well, I’ll be,” another woman's voice boomed up to her. “I was half afraid you’d forgotten about us.”

She eased herself down while Starspark was preoccupied, the distraction working better than Thea’s botched plan had. She wanted to melt into the ground and escape from the archdruid’s kind eyes. Instead, she grumbled, “As if,” and dusted herself off before taking in the familiar scenery. Avoiding.

But Vaelen’s eyes were aged and wise, and the archdruid gazed at her as if she could see right through Thea. Behind her, a dragon stared, as silent as the patient earth her verdant scales reminded Thea of, as stern as the woman in front of Thea tried to be. “Welcome home. Would you like food, rest, a bath, or a chat?”

Thea’s eyes drifted shut in relief. “Yes.”

Vaelen chuckled and drew a gloved hand out from her body. Her deep brown skin seemed to glow beneath the torchlight, and the green band of runes and symbols around her arm was still prominent, shining mutedly, along with the line carved into her brow and the rings woven into her intricately braided hair—ten in total, one more than when Thea had seen her last, catching the light in a small hoop in her nose. The tradition left a bubble of humor in her throat, a twinge of pride.