I Heard a Rumour
Everyone who had ever met Lirric loved her. For good reason. She made them love her.
From a young age, Lirric had known that she was special. This was due in large part to her mother telling her that her father was the most important man in the universe, and for her to exist was a blessing from him. For her to grow up in his presence, learning some of his skills and the secret of his psionics, meant that she was more than just your average snot-nosed brat. She was worthy. Lirric took these words to heart and turned them into her personality.
As she grew and matured, Lirric learned that people responded better to sweetness than threats. That if she just smiled and played the part of the vapid, brainless girl everyone expected, even the most hardened egg eventually opened up to her.
It was an easy part to play too. Lirric liked being likable. She liked having a horde of friends around her at all times. She liked the compliments and the invitations and the opportunities that came with being a popular girl. She especially liked the easy access to information too.
Yet sometimes she found herself thinking it was all too easy. Back home, she had an established crowd of hangers-on and mentors and patrons. Useful things. Yet they didn’t challenge her. If she wanted to remain worthy in the eyes of her father, whose sights were set so much bigger than one little community on a dinky little planet, then she needed to challenge herself.
Tris’Hath was nothing like home. She’d known this going into the exchange program, but it was a different matter entirely to stand on its soil and talk to its people.
And such people this place had! Sure there were humans aplenty, but also elves, dwarves, cat people, lizard people, cow people, and so much more. So many opportunities to make new friends. The exchange program had even served six of them up to her on a platter.
Sachin and India were already in her pocket, wooed by her encyclopedic knowledge of other worldly rumours. She had just enough info on all the major Nexus players to make herself seem like an expert. A little bit of will pushed into each of them, and they were practically tripping over themselves to share info on their own homeworlds.
The tall alien Deinjost was an unusual encounter. He seemed polite and accommodating enough, and yet no amount of rooting around for a mind to touch yielded a willing surface. She’d come back to him later.
Then there was Liu Wen, whom she dearly wished didn’t have the personality of an irritable badger. His will power was too strong to dominate easily. His knowledge of the Vella Crean, the war with the Death Court, and most importantly, the Dark Court, were juicy treasures that she just couldn’t ignore. To bond a Dark Court like her mother had was one of her oldest childhood dreams. She’d figure out a way through his prickly surface sooner or later.
Last of all were the twins, Tyler and Tylde. She didn’t mess with family.
All of these pieces of information were precious little nuggets that Lirric kept tucked away in her mind. She didn’t dare write any of it down. Leaving a trail was for chumps and losers.
That was just what she’d gleaned on her fellow exchange participants though. There was a whole world around her just waiting to spill all its precious little secrets. Her father wouldn’t be satisfied with just the surface level details. He’d want insider intel. Details on political ties, illegal magics, and weapons development. And wouldn’t you know it, the perfect little informant had wandered directly into her life like a fly throwing itself at a spider’s web.
Lirric waited for him in the halls of Castle Drakmor, just outside the ornate library doors. Double doors. Taller and wider than any human-specific doors needed to be. Every inch of them bore some artistry, be it carvings so detailed that their subjects seemed a breath away from jumping out of the wood, or words carved so delicately that they looked to have been copied directly off a scroll. The whole thing screamed ostentatiously to Lirric, and that was without even seeing the interior of the library. Such was the emphasis the local monarchs placed on knowledge. Lirric didn’t fault them for it.
One of the two doors opened with a clack and boom like rolling thunder. Lirric jumped away from the wall and pretended to be just walking up to them as a slip of a boy scooted through the narrow crack between the doors and into the hall.
“Arvin, hi,” Lirric called cheerily.
“Ah!” The boy jumped a foot in the air and nearly lost hold of the numerous scrolls and papers crammed between his scrawny arms. He contorted himself to keep them all in check, then squished them tight against his chest and ran one shaking, long-fingered hand through his ruddy brown hair.
“L- Lirric! You startled me,” Arvin said.
Lirric grinned, because wasn’t that exactly the reaction she’d wanted?
“Oh, did I? I’m so sorry. Here, let me carry some of those for you. That’s a lot.”
Lirric reached for the nearest roll, but Arvin pulled them back so fast that they crinkled against his chest.
“No! No. That’s alright.” He hesitated, clearly flustered by his own exuberance. “Um… were you going in?”
“I was, but if you’re leaving, then I think I’d rather be out here,” Lirric said with a coy little grin.
If Arvin’s face hadn’t already been the colour of freshly chopped beets, it might have gotten a little rosy. Seeing as he couldn’t blush any harder though, his body opted to show his abrupt increase in discomfort through a sheen of sweat on his brow and the bugging of his already large eyes.
“Okay, well… um…”
“Are you thirsty? Let’s get a drink,” Lirric suggested. Hooking one arm around his elbow before he could protest, she tugged him back toward the main hall.
“You know, I have a lot of homework to do. I really should-”
“Aw, but I haven’t seen you in a whole day. I wanted to spend time with you.” Lirric paired the words with a pout and chalked up another win for herself. She loved the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down like a fishing lure every time she complimented him. It made her feel predatory.
“I- I- I- c- can’t imagine why,” Arvin stammered out. “I’m not- I mean to say- Well, I’m just a research assistant. I’m boring.”
“You are not,” Lirric chidded. She nudged his side and thrilled at the sight of his feet tripping over themselves. “I find you very interesting.”
Arvin’s blush deepened to the colour of a ripe plum.
“Well, I’m happy to oblige, but I didn’t do anything interesting today,” he said, fighting to keep his voice from wavering. “All we did was study the movements of the ley lines.”
“Ley lines,” Lirric purred, her eyes lighting up with the sort of greed reserved for birthday parties and dragon hoards. “Can you tell me about them?”
“Oh, it’s really boring. It’s just a lot of mathematical calculations measuring the theoretical current shifts based on fields of arcane increase observed at surface level over a period of a hundred years.” Arvin paused, cleared his throat, and gave Lirric a shifty side glance. “You know. Nerd stuff.”
“I love to hear about nerd stuff. Please tell me?” Lirric leaned her head against Arvin’s shoulder and steeled her will for the most boring rant of her life. The info would be worth it, she kept reminding herself as Arvin happily launched into his lecture.
* * *
War Monger
There were few things in life Liu hated more than social obligations. All this prancing around proper etiquette and what to say and when to say it and how to deliver an insult so that it sounded like a compliment. It was all so very exhausting. He much preferred to avoid people altogether. Unfortunately, people had what he needed.
One specific person, in fact. A person who seemed intent on avoiding him at every turn. He’d finally heard that she’d taken a turn down to the cafeteria in New Warren for a drink, and he did not intend to miss his chance.
When he arrived at the gateway to social hell, he did not immediately see his target. He did, however, see a disgusting number of people engaged in drinking, talking and eating grotesque amounts of food smothered in dubious cheese sauces.
The cafeteria was one of the largest and simultaneously cramped spaces in all of New Warren. Its towering ceilings rivaled Castle Drakmor for how far up they stretched, and no matter how many of the smokeless torches that lit the place were ignited, they could not pierce the inky black lake at the apex. Columns of stone supported the ceiling and broke up the layout of the vast floor space, jutting up into nothingness like islands in a sea. Colourful tapestries and garlands strung from one column to the next, connecting them in a chaotic mosaic that he supposed had some deep and profound meaning to the dragon riders. All he saw was this stylized dragon or that one, this artful interpretation of a spell, or that fine needlework depicting a shield. It all seemed so amateurish in his eyes. Like someone had strung up every art piece their child had ever made. The entire place was loud and hot and smelly, and he could only hold his breath so long. Yet at last, at long last, his patience had paid off.
Praetor Rugan, commander of the Order of Lanutha, master of all of Lanutha’s armed forces, dragon master of three bonds (three! He couldn’t even imagine sharing head space with one!), sat at a table away from the majority of the cafeteria’s patrons. Two people sat with her. One, a young woman, resembled Rugan in her dark continence and shining black hair, but sleeker and velvety where Rugan was all hard leather and iron. The other, a young man, looked nothing like her, save for the overabundance of muscles rippling across his frame. They were both her children, though only the girl was by blood. He knew this from his reconnaissance. He also knew he hadn’t a hope of using them to get close to her, as a few hours spent in Tristen’s presence had the hulking man questioning whether or not Liu was a spy and Roah was simply terrifying at a distance.
Liu ground his teeth together and clenched his hands around the still full mug sitting in front of him. He hadn’t had a sip of his frothy beverage. Nor was he like to after watching the way others downed the stuff like ravening animals. He couldn’t afford impairment. Not when his one chance lay so close at hand.
They couldn’t hang around their mother forever. Eventually, Rugan would be alone.
“Hey! Hey, Liu!” The voice that called out to him grated across his last nerve like steel on stone. Liu kept his head down, pretending he hadn’t heard. Yet no amount of willing the intruder away could deter a soul as stubborn as Lirric.
The green-haired student from the Kshau Protectorate practically bounced onto the seat next to him. Arvin, the unfortunate young man who’d earned the unenviable position of her chew toy of choice at present, was tugged onto the bench next to her. If Liu wasn’t entirely focused on preventing himself from becoming her next target, he might have felt pity for the Tris’Hathian native.
“We missed you in economics class this morning,” Lirric said. She wrapped herself a little tighter around Arvin’s arm, leaning her head on the man’s shoulder as if they were a sweet couple rather than a predator and her prey.
“I was busy,” Liu replied curtly.
“Busy making eyes at Roah again?”
This statement managed to tear Liu’s attention away from Rugan and her entourage when nothing else had. It was the surprise of the accusation more than anything that caught his attention. He hadn’t acknowledged Roah as anything more than an obstacle in his way, but he supposed that did mean he’d spent a considerable amount of time eyeing her.
“No, that’s not-”
“Oh, so it’s not Roah? Is it Tristen then?” Lirric asked with a self-satisfied smirk. She unwound herself from around Arvin and leaned closer to Liu. He, in turn, leaned back.
“What I do is none of your business,” Liu snapped.
He intended the words to be scathing. He intended the cloudy expression he wore to drive her away. Instead, her eyes lit up with delight and she leaned closer still.
“So it is Tristen! I didn’t know you swung that way. You know, if you need a wingman…”
“I do not need any assistance from you.” Liu bit off each word as if they tasted bitter on his tongue.
“Oh, but Liu, we could work so well together,” Lirric purred. Her hands slid over his and were aiming for his arms before he jerked away from her touch.
“As I told you before, I am not interested.”
“Hey Lirric, I’m going to go get us some drinks,” Arvin said.
Before either of them could utter a word of protest, Arvin was up and wending his way through the crowds to get to the bar. Lirric looked mildly displeased to have lost her pet, brief as the interruption was. Liu, meanwhile, felt a sudden tsunami of mixed emotions tear through him. Lirric’s irritation amused him. Being left alone with her at the table did not. Even worse, when he stole a second to glance back at Rugan’s table, the Praetor and her children were no longer seated there. Panic thrilled through him for a moment before he spotted them near the exit. Without a word, Liu leapt to his feet.
“Hey wait,” Lirric protested, catching his arm.
Liu shook her off impatiently.
“I don’t have time for your games, Lirric. Find someone else to pester.”
He left her sitting there, devoid of entertainment and scowling her displeasure.
Good, he thought, let her be displeased. Maybe that would keep her away from him in the future.
The crowd did not easily want to part before Liu. Though he muttered apologies for each person he bumped into, there always seemed to be another body waiting to block his way. On top of that, Rugan could move fast.
At last, the slow-moving throngs broke apart once he stepped into the hall. He still had to jog a short distance to catch up to them, but his goal was in sight. He cleared his throat as soon as he got within speaking range.
“Your Excellence. Please allow me to-”
“Nope,” Rugan said without turning around.
“I- I’m sorry, Your-”
“I ain’t no one’s excellence. Ye ken stop wit tha title nonsense.”
“I- Of course, Your… um…”
“Praetor.”
“Your Praetor… ness.”
Liu cringed inwardly. Gods, that sounded horrible. On the plus side, his horrendous performance seemed to have earned him the pity of the towering woman. She let out a short sigh and turned to face him.
“Just Praetor.”
“Yes, of course.” Liu paused and for a moment, his mind was blank. He’d spent so much time plotting how to get to this point that he’d completely forgotten what he wanted to do with the moment. She started to turn away. Liu rushed to say the first thing that came to mind and hoped the rest followed. “My name is Liu Wen. I was sent here from the Vella Crean.”
“One of those exchange kids, huh?” Roah cut in. She stood beside her brother, both of them looking various degrees of unimpressed.
“Ain’t K’lter suppos’ta be lookin’ after ye lot?” Rugan asked.
“Yes. Well, he is. But I wanted to speak to you about a personal matter. You see, I hail from the Dark Court-”
“Oh, the Dark Court. They’re mysterious. My bond’s a Light Court. Are you going to bond from your Court?” Roah asked.
“No. Well, yes. I hope so anyway.”
Dammit, her interruptions kept throwing him off. He sucked in a breath to continue, but Rugan was already waving him off.
“I can’t help ye wit bondin’. Tha’s K’lter’s work. Ye stick with him. He’ll find ye a dragon.”
“That’s not-”
"Didn't I see you hanging around the smithy?" Tristen asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Why don’t I escort you back down to the Warren? I can put in a good word for a Court clutch for you.” Roah slipped forward, inserting herself between him and Rugan in a heartbeat. Her hands slid easily around his arm, warm and firm and pointedly directing him away from Rugan.
“No, wait. I don’t- I just needed a minute. Would you unhand me?”
But she did not. As Rugan and Tristen turned to continue on their way, Roah marched Liu several feet down an adjoining corridor. Her voice dropped to a low purr the moment they were out of hearing range.
“My mother’s got enough on her mind. So why don’t you tell me what you’re really after?”
Tried as he might, Liu could not pull free of the woman’s grip. Her touch was velvet soft, but her hold on him was iron. He had lost sight of his quarry. She’d robbed him of the opportunity he’d worked for weeks to plan out. Irritated and flustered, he rounded his attention fully onto Roah. If he couldn’t get to the mother, maybe he could get through to the daughter.
“The Vella Crean’s been at war for five years,” he snapped. “We are making no headway. I need to know how to turn the tides.”
“And you think my mother can teach you that?”
“I’ve heard the stories. I’m not an idiot. I know how big the hydras were and how many of them there used to be. Your mother took a handful of undersized dragons and waged a war against titans. Successfully. I need to know how.”
“That’s classified information.”
Liu hated that word. He released a dismissive scoff.
“Classified. Everytime I ask a question, the answer is classified. The Death Court’s origin is classified. The drift is classified. The sectioning spell is classified. I wouldn’t be surprised if yesterday’s menu was classified around here too,” he snarled. “My people deserve a fighting chance. We deserve to have our home back. Your mother can teach me how to do that.”
“And why do you think that’s your responsibility?”
“Because I claimed it. I will make them acknowledge me.”
For the first time since pulling him away, Roah’s cultivated mask of neutral interest slipped. She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, you’re Dark Court alright.”
Liu didn’t think he could feel more dislike for this woman. She understood nothing and acted like she knew everything.
“I’m not going to give up. I will get your mother to teach me.”
“Listen, kid, you’re still new here. How about you focus on fitting in and finding your place, and maybe once you do that, you’ll learn a thing or two.”
“I need to learn-”
“Patience. You need to learn patience.”
“I am extremely patient.”
“Then go back down to the Warren, do your regular lessons, and let K’lter place you at a clutch.”
"You don't understand."
"Yes, I do-"
Liu had enough of being cut off. He couldn’t pull free of Roah’s grip, but he planted his feet and forced her to stop marching him toward the exit.
"No, you don't. I know who you are, Roah of the Warren. Roah of the golden eyes.” Liu felt a small thrill of victory at her reaction. Momentary surprise quickly covered up, but he knew. He knew more than she could possibly imagine. It was time for the Praetor’s daughter to be put on her back foot for a change. “That's right. I know you're one of Shy's creations. I have been studying and researching and scraping together every bit of knowledge I could for years, but it's not enough. You got to come back here and have your happy little family. My family is still risking their lives on Vella Crean in a war you could change in a heartbeat. The Death Court are not stronger than hydras. Our Courts were never trained in warfare, but you could change that. You could help us. I don't understand why you won't help us."
Roah stared at him for several long seconds without speaking. Her face locked into a stoney mask which betrayed not a hint of the emotion beneath, which somehow seemed more threatening than if she had been outright furious with him. At long last, she closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, then hit him with a withering stare.
"You are right. You don't understand. You have no concept of the cost of war. Or the cost of the training you're asking for. How many lives are you willing to sacrifice for that knowledge, hm? Because I guarantee you, that kind of training will come with a price tag written in blood. Until you understand that, understand the politics and machinations that go into interworld relations, you will never be ready to be the hero to your people you want to be. Lose the attitude. Pick up a book. Learn your place. And stop hassling the brass. You're not as subtle as you think you are. One more toe out of line and they'll send you packing back to Vella Crean."
Roah pushed past him then, striding back down the hall after her family. Liu turned, raising his voice to call after her.
"I'm not going to give up. If your family won't teach me, then I'll find someone who will. I'll go to Sewyn Warren. Caretaker Sabrilla is our ally. A true ally!"
The raven-haired woman did not stop. She did not even slow down. Liu remained rooted to the spot for a few seconds longer as she marched out of sight. Only when he could no longer hear the hard tap of her footfalls did he turn and continue in the direction she’d been leading him.
Let her think she’d won for today. He was not deterred. He would save his people.
* * *
Arvin slipped through the halls like a laundry maid. Most of his brothers and sisters who trained in these arts liked to say they moved like ghosts or specters. Arvin knew better. People noticed ghosts when they showed up. Intangible as they may be, it was hard not to notice the ethereal presence floating around a space it shouldn’t be.
Laundry maids, however, never got noticed. They picked up their work and moved through the halls in plain sight, and yet ask any of the residents of New Warren when was the last time they saw one pass, and no one would have an answer.
That was the trick to hiding in the open. To be as boring and bland and everyday as the dirt beneath your feet. People would look right at you and forget your existence a moment later.
Arvin had long been skilled in such tricks. Even before he joined the ranks of the spymasters who skittered about Lanutha. Having nine brothers and six sisters made one keen to vanish when trouble cropped up. The only one who had ever noticed him was the woman known as Shroud. Because she had seen him, because she had acknowledged his skill, he had vowed to follow her to the ends of the world. Though he had to admit, being tasked to track the histories and motivations of the exchange students was testing the extent of his patience.
Arvin waited until the hall ahead of him was empty before he shuffled forward beneath the low torchlight. He remained alert to the sound of movement around him, double checking that he hadn’t been followed, just as he’d been taught. When he was certain that he was alone, he pressed his hand to the subtle indent in the wall that only those of his order were privy to.
The wall slid back with little more noise than the skitter of loose dirt underfoot. He allowed it to open only as far as necessary to let him slip through. Then he pressed his hand to the mirror of the indent on the inside of the door and waited for it to slide shut.
Once the rock wall had ceased moving and silence dominated his world, Arvin released a long-held breath and let the tension roll off his shoulders. At last, he could stop fearing that Lirric would pop up over his shoulder.
Shroud had told him he was the best one for the job. She’d noticed Lirric’s attention veering his way within a day of the exchange students’ arrival. Shroud had been right. Lirric latched onto him with the tenacity of a barnacle and practically poured her life story out to him in bits and pieces. As if she were the hunter luring her prey with interesting tidbits. All he had to do was play dumb. He was very good at that.
Even so, Arvin thought that he might have preferred an assignment deep in Pentas amongst the lowliest necromancers over being Lirric’s personal toy. The woman had webs upon webs of manipulation at work. Her telepathic coercion was no joke. Every day in her presence left him with a pounding headache and just the faintest hint that maybe he should just trust her after all. If not for his training, he might have failed already.
After taking a second to center himself, Arvin turned and marched down the hall that led to the various working chambers of the spymasters. His own assigned room lay at the end of the hall. It was one of the smaller rooms and not nearly as fancily equipped as some of the others he’d seen, but it was his. There was pride in that.
There was no handle to the wooden door before him. Nothing but a sigil burned into the wood. He touched three specific points around the symbol, muttered the key word under his breath, and tried not to smile as the door opened.
This mission was his shot. His chance to prove himself. If he did this right, then this room would be his permanently, and he would be assigned to bigger and better missions in the future. Plus, he would finally have proven to Shroud that her faith in him was warranted. That alone was worth a Lirric headache for the rest of his life.
The room, like the hallway, was unimpressive. Smokeless torches lined the walls and flared to life upon his arrival. No pictures adorned the bare rock between them. In fact, other than a small trunk at the base of the cot pushed up against the far wall, there were no personal touches in this room at all. When Arvin had left his family, he’d left everything behind. He belonged solely to the spymasters now.
A small desk with a small chair sat opposite the cot. Between the two, stretching the majority of the back wall, lay a tapestry of notes, pictures, and thread. All of the work Arvin had poured into this project since his assignment.
At the center of the network sat seven crude sketches pinned to the wall. Seven exchange students. Seven targets to track. Three of them had already been closed off with notes such as “no further investigation required.” Of the four that remained, only two had sprouted enough offshoots to resemble conspiracy theory trees attached to the rock. One was, of course, Lirric. He knew she was related to someone of import, but he still had to drag that little tidbit out of her. The other was Liu, who had spent so much time skulking about and lurking in the shadows, he may as well have written a manifesto titled “my nefarious plan” and handed it to Arvin. And now, with a satisfied smile, Arvin picked up his spool of thread and connected a line from Lirric directly to Liu.
“Interesting. Do you believe they share a prior connection?”
The low, gravelly voice startled Arvin into the stratosphere. He dropped his spool and reached for the hidden blade tucked into the waistband of his pants. His hand twitched a way a half second later as his brain registered the shadowed figure in the doorway.
Shroud, true to her name, was only identifiable as a woman thanks to the low husk of her voice. Not a scrap of skin showed beneath her layers of clothing. Nor did any light penetrate the deep shadows of her cowl. Arvin knew she had blue eyes. Or so the rumour went.
“No, Mistress,” he replied with a quick bow of his head. “I believe Lirric is intent on establishing a connection. I believe she intends to use Liu’s ambition for her own ends.”
“In what way?” The hooded and cloaked woman stepped into the room, arms crossed and cowl pointed in the direction of his wall.
Arvin kept his eyes on the ground as Shroud drew closer.
“I’m still working that out, Mistress. Liu intends to use his time here to learn our military secrets. He’s not a threat on his own, but I believe with Lirric’s help, he might stumble into something he isn’t supposed to.”
“And Lirric? Is she a threat?”
Shroud stopped a foot away from him. He could feel her presence like pressure against his skin.
“She is like a loose cannon. While she has a great deal of power, she is untrained and unskilled. She could become dangerous if she happens across the right subject.”
“And you think that might be Liu?”
Arvin drew in a breath and held it a moment. He had to be careful here. If he jumped to a conclusion and wrongly labeled a threat where there wasn’t one, he could do more damage than just to Lirric and Liu’s futures here. This could start an international incident.
And yet…
And yet he knew Lirric was up to something. He just needed more time to figure out what.
“I’m not sure,” he blurted, hating the words as they tumbled from his mouth. “I have theories but nothing proven yet. I need more time.”
“Hm,” Shroud said.
Nothing more. Arvin didn’t dare break the silence that followed. What if that was a test? What if she already knew? Shroud knew everything. Maybe she already knew who Lirric was and what she was after. Maybe this was a test.
Arvin’s pulse quickened with each new terrifying thought. His heart rate climbed up into his throat and set up camp.
“I still have her trust,” he said quickly. “There’s no risk of exposure. I can keep pressing.”
“Oh, I expect you to continue,” Shroud interrupted. “You’ll need to pack though?”
Arvin didn’t think his heart could climb any higher, but there it was beating against his tonsils.
“Pack, Mistress?”
“Liu and Lirric have been assigned to a clutch. I pulled some strings. Congratulations, candidate.”
And suddenly his heart sank straight to the pit of his stomach. It was a good thing he hadn’t actually gone for that drink when he’d ditched Lirric, or else he’d be throwing up.
“What? No no no. Spymasters aren’t dragon riders. It draws too much attention.”
“As I said, but Her Grace brought up a good point. Dragon riders can go where spymasters can’t. You won’t be sneaking behind enemy lines, but you’ll be able to gather intel that we would otherwise be blind to.”
Shroud turned to face him. At this proximity, in the low light of his room, Arvin confirmed that her eyes were indeed blue. A cold and distant blue, like glaciers peaking out beneath the shadows.
“Unless you think this assignment is beyond you?”
“No, Mistress,” Arvin said before his brain had time to process the words.
“Good,” she said. “Get packing. You leave in the morning.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Shroud turned and strode from the room with as much noise as she’d entered with. That was to say he only noticed her departure when the door clicked shut behind her.
Alone in the room, Arvin attempted to sort through the shambles that remained of his thought process. He’d never put much thought into being a dragon rider before. That was for people who enjoyed being in the limelight. What he wanted was to be a spy master. To serve the woman and country that had lifted him out of his meaningless existence and given him a purpose. He wanted to be important but not noticeably so. Was that so much to ask?
Maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Maybe the dragons would see just another laundry maid.
Or maybe, whispered a little voice in the back of his mind, he’d finally find someone who saw him for the real him.
Arvin drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Dammit,” he whispered to himself. “I liked my room.”
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