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Seryu hung back as if stung, and I almost regretted my harsh words. Almost.
“I never should have said that,” he said, his red eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.”
The plaintive chord in his voice struck me, and though I wanted to stay angry, the fire in my temper went out. “I know you didn’t mean for things to go this way.”
For a short eternity, he leaned over the ridged edge of our cloud, his arms folded. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “You wouldn’t be a concubine, you know. You’d be my bride. My equal.” He went on quickly, before I could reply. “I know that doesn’t make it much better, but I thought you should know.”
I leaned forward too and glanced down at the hundred dragons. They were watching. “Seems annoying gossipy relatives aren’t unique to the mortal realm.”
“Indeed not,” said Seryu, still pensive. “A dragon’s binding ceremony is one of our oldest rites. It’s supposed to be founded on love and trust, but more often than not, it serves as a mere transaction.”
I had some experience with that.
“I didn’t want mine to be that way,” he confessed. “I was hoping, if it turned out to be you, that you would want to be here. Because you cared for me.”
“I do care for you.”
It was the truth, and I thought of our summer together, idling by the Sacred Lake and exchanging quips about magic and sorcery. I cared for him then, and I still cared for him now.
“Would it be so bad, staying with me?” he said quietly. “I’d make sure you were safe. I could do that for you. I’ve always done that for you. I deserve a fair chance, don’t I?”
He did, and I’d be lying if I said I had given him one.
At my silence, Seryu reached for my hand. I let him rest his palm on mine. His skin was cold, but not in an unpleasant way, and I felt the tiniest spark as his green nails curled gently around my fingers.
I gazed at our hands. What if I did stay in Ai’long? Would it be so tragic, marrying Seryu? He was handsome and fun…and fond of me. Maybe even in love with me.
I’d be a princess of dragons with sparkling gills on my neck and arms. I’d chase turtles and whales with Seryu, get on Solzaya’s nerves as often as I could, try on magical dresses with Lady Nahma, and uncover all of Ai’long’s secrets. I’d live forever.
No one here would think twice about me being the bloodsake. Like Seryu said, Kiata might even be safer if I didn’t return. Father could find a sorcerer who’d seal Bandur back into the mountains, and that would be the end of it. The demons would be trapped forever, and no more bloodsakes would die. Magic would stay buried in Kiata, just like everyone wanted. Instead of being blamed, I’d become a legend.
“Kiss me,” I murmured to Seryu.
Seryu stared at me, thunderstruck. But he nodded, and the dragons cheered, drumming their claws on their coral balconies as he bent forward.
His hand was still on mine, and his lips were just a breath away. My heart hammered in my chest. I’d kissed plenty of boys before. What difference did it make to kiss Seryu?
The difference came stampeding into my thoughts.
Takkan.
I breathed out, my heart suddenly light and heavy all at once.
More than anything, I wanted to throw my arms around Takkan. I wanted to see his shoulders square with embarrassment when I quoted passages from letters he wrote me as a boy, to rest my chin on his shoulder and fall asleep to the lilt of his songs. To catch him staring when I wasn’t looking, and tease him until the corners of his warm eyes crinkled.
To finally tell him I loved him.
But if I ever returned to Kiata, I’d be branded a sorceress—and blamed for Bandur escaping the mountains. Was a future with Takkan even possible?
All I knew was that I’d risk everything to find out.
I turned my cheek. “Wait—” I started to say, but I didn’t need to. Seryu had seen the emotions warring on my face. He was already retreating. Before I could explain, he sank back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other.
“You know, I prefer not to kiss princesses in pink,” he demurred, waving off the disappointed crowds below with a semi-believable smirk. “Something about the color just isn’t…alluring.”
He was trying to save his pride, and I knew I should let it go. But I couldn’t.
“It’s not you.” I faltered, my words all twisted and knotted. “You know it isn’t.”
