If that dragon struck us at full speed, surely neither of us would survive. A chill ran down my spine, sending goosebumps pricking up my arms. I squeezed my eyes shut. We’re going to die.
But then a roar erupted just behind me. I turned to look.
The copper-colored dragon was now physically restrained in midair by three other dragons. Between them and us stood four more dragons—Dario, Ray, and the other bodyguards, perhaps?—acting as a defensive barrier to protect us. At first the copper dragon struggled to free himself, but over time his movements grew sluggish, until suddenly he morphed back to his humanoid form...unconscious.
“What was that about...?” Patricia whispered blankly.
The silver dragon in front of us turned back and looked at her anxiously.
“Prince Dario...?” she ventured.
“Yes, it’s me. Are you all right?” he asked in a deeper, rumbling voice.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine. Thank you for protecting me.” Still trembling, Patricia tottered over to dragon-Dario at once—and the Prince himself looked quite relieved to see she harbored no fear toward him.
Meanwhile, a flamboyant gold dragon stepped away from the commotion and trotted up to me. “What about you, Mayna? Are you hurt?”
“Is that you, Ray?”
The voice certainly sounded like his, though deeper.
“...Are you frightened?” the dragon asked, somewhat timidly.
“No, I’m not,” I answered. “Because I know who you are, and no matter what form you take, you’re not a monster.”
At my reply, Ray smiled slightly (if you could call turned up lips on a dragon a smile), then shifted back to his humanoid form and jogged over to the unconscious knight. Around me, the other dragons were shifting back, too.
Dario turned from Patricia to Ray. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure.”
“It looked like he was trying to attack the Princess.”
“Agreed.”
More knights ran over from the opposite end of the training field. “Prince Dario! Princess Patricia! Are you unharmed?!”
“Not to worry; we’re fine. Now then, we need to wake this fellow up, because I mean to interrogate him. We’re very fortunate Her Highness didn’t suffer any injuries—if she had, we would’ve had a diplomatic scandal on our hands. The whole wedding might’ve been called off!”
At Dario’s request, the senior officer began to shake the unconscious man. “Ian! Wake up, Ian!”
With one hand clutching his head, Ian pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning in pain.
“Are you aware of what it is you’ve done?!” the officer roared furiously.
For a moment Ian stared back blankly. Then he searched his memory...and, at last, all the color drained from his face. “W-Wait! I never wanted to attack Her Highness! Please, you have to believe me!”
He explained that he’d heard an ear-piercing screech partway through his practice duel, and for some reason, the thought crossed his mind that he needed to kill Patricia.
“It was completely against my will, I swear it!”
“I understand where you’re coming from, and I want to trust you...but for now, I’m going to need to place you under arrest.”
“I understand, Your Highness...”
Ian didn’t protest as the other knights led him away. Dario and Ray watched him go, then turned to the senior officer and started asking questions about him.
“It’s been five years now since Ian joined the knight order. He’s a good man with a reputable background... I haven’t noticed any suspicious behavior from him, either.”
Even the senior officer could scarcely believe what had happened.
Ray paused to think, then asked, “How did he feel about the Princess? Did he mention whether he’d bought into the rumors about her?”
“He never brought them up in conversation. Didn’t seem too bothered by her presence in the castle, never made any personal comments about her. And once the engagement was made official, he celebrated it right along with the rest of us.”
“I see.”
Ray fell silent once more, his gaze focused not on the man before him, but the castle in the distance behind him. I followed suit to see if I could spot anything unusual, but came up short.
“Is it possible he was manipulated by a magic spell?” Ray speculated, his eyes still fixed on the castle. Then, finally, he turned back to Prince Dario, who furrowed his brow.
“I can’t rule it out, but...who could manage such a thing? I daresay there isn’t a Dragonkin alive who could perform such advanced magic.”
Evidently Dragonkin were no better mages than Flowerfolk. Generally they were inclined to be physical fighters, so perhaps they only really needed to use mana for form shifting.
“That may be true of Dragonkin, but...well, I’ll look into it,” Ray replied sternly.
“Please do. Ian didn’t appear to be lying, but we can’t know for sure. Continue the investigation and surveillance,” the Prince commanded. Then he turned to Patricia. “Let’s go back to your quarters. I’ll walk you there.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” she responded.
And so he put an arm around her shoulder and guided her away with him.
I had expected her to be a little more shaken up, considering she was very nearly attacked by a dragon, but she didn’t seem troubled at all. Instead, she was blushing and fawning over Dario’s kind gesture as if it were any other day. Perhaps that arm around her shoulder was more of a big deal in her eyes... I started after her—
“Mayna,” Ray called.
I stopped short and turned.
He looked at me with his honey-hued eyes and declared, “Whatever you do, keep an eye on Kirion.”
“What? Why?”
“Like I said, I think it’s possible Ian was being controlled via magic.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And I think Kirion’s the culprit.”
I quirked a brow. “Well, this is sudden. What makes you suspect him?”
“Because I saw him walking down the corridor just now.” Ray indicated the castle. “He was in a position where he could see the training field. You notice how that third-floor window is the only one open? It looked as though he’d just left that area.”
“Sorry, what? Which window are you talking about? And for that matter, how can you tell who exactly is walking down the corridor from this distance?”
“I guess you Flowerfolk only have human-level eyesight,” he mused. “Listen—when I saw Kirion, he wasn’t looking in our direction. He was facing forward as if he were merely going about his business. Of course, this means there’s a chance he was just innocently passing by.”
“Right. I mean, how could Kirion use high-level magic, anyway? Surely his capabilities are no better than any other Dragonkin.”
“Do you really think he’s a Dragonkin?”
“Yeah...isn’t he?”
I pictured Kirion in my mind. Back in Myulan, my mental image of Dragonkin on the whole was typically stocky or muscular, but once I experienced Vaxwald firsthand, I learned the tribe had a whole range of diverse body types. For example, Ray was fairly slender, while Mona was short and curvy. Yes, they were generally more muscular than humans on average—but even then, Kirion’s thin and petite frame didn’t strike me as particularly unusual.
Though his quarry was long gone by now, Ray continued to stare off at the distant castle.
“It’s hard to explain. He just doesn’t...feel like one of us. But perhaps that’s simply because I have trouble tolerating him. Perhaps it all boils down to my own personal dislike. Still...” He turned to face me. “His hairstyle is nothing like a Dragonkin’s. Granted, I never used to pay attention to people’s hair until I met you...but I have to say, the average Dragonkin man would never grow his hair out to that length.”
Even I couldn’t deny that Kirion’s hair was exceptionally long. I put a hand on my chin in contemplation. “Now that you mention it, I’ve never seen another Dragonkin man with hair as long as his. Generally you all seem to keep it closely cropped. But it’s not like it’s against the law, right? Surely you can’t determine his heritage based on that alone.”
“In Vaxwald culture, short hair is seen as masculine. I imagine this is a common view in many countries, but Vaxwald in particular is fairly strict about it. Take my hair, for example—you wouldn’t believe how frequently other men tell me I should get it cut.”
“But it’s not even that long!”
“True, but the norm here is a lot shorter. The guys all want me to shave this lower part around here so I can look more like a real man,” Ray explained, lifting half of his shaggy locks to indicate the back and sides of his head.
I laughed. “I guess long-haired guys really aren’t as common here as they are in Myulan. The Dragonkin women all seem to have long hair, though. Perhaps hair length is tied more closely to gender expression here in Vaxwald.”
“It is. As it stands now, the average Dragonkin would think Kirion was trying to look like a woman on purpose. At first I didn’t think too hard about it—told myself maybe all hairstylists grow their hair out—but now that I’m questioning his heritage, everything about him strikes me as suspect. Anyway, I plan to go and speak to Torpan, since she hired him. She told us he used to work for a merchant, and he came with a letter of recommendation, but we can’t say for certain it wasn’t fabricated... I want firsthand confirmation.” He paused, a hard look on his face, and finished, “This may well be my own paranoia speaking, but...until I can be sure he’s not dangerous, I want you to make sure you’re never caught alone in a room with him.”
“That’s kind of a tall order, Ray. He’s my apprentice.”
“I’m begging you, Mayna. I’ll keep my eye on him as much as I can, but I still have other duties to attend to. I need you to stay on guard whenever I’m not around,” he pleaded. He gently reached out and touched my whiteshell hair accessory—the one I was positive he had given to me as a gift.
Once again, it seemed as though he was deeply, sincerely concerned for me, and yet I knew if I asked him directly, he’d probably just ignore the question altogether. Personally, I got the sense that Kirion wasn’t the only one with something to hide...and no matter what I did, I most likely wasn’t going to find out what that something was.
“Fine. I’ll be as careful as I can,” I sighed. “There’s something about him... I just don’t know what.”
But I was forced to break this promise a mere five minutes later.