I wake up with a big stretch and a yawn. I've never slept this well, in such a comfortable bed... I don't want to leave it at all. But the sun shines through the large windows of my room, caressing my face and hair, gently waking me up...
I am grateful for it, I truly am. With the way I lived—reading fortunes at night—dusk was my friend far more often than dawn. But now I don't have to do that anymore... it's nice to sleep in and wake up to the sun. Not that I mind the moon; it's my friend, my companion, but the sun is like a lover I rarely see.
A knock on the door jolts me, and I sit up.
"Yes?"
Larimar enters, smiling. "My Lady, did you sleep well?"
I nod.
"Lord Itzamatul has invited you to share breakfast with him... what should I tell him?"
"I'm coming." I immediately swing my legs over the side of the bed. The marble floor is cool to the touch. Then I blink, remembering something. "And my clothes—?"
"Citrine has sent a few dresses for you this morning," Larimar quickly says as she opens the huge closet in my room. Several garments hang from the hangers, glistening. I stare at them in disbelief.
"She's... sewn all of these in one night?"
"Oh, they're quite simple, nothing special. She only wanted you to look nice for these few days before you appear in court..." Larimar takes one dress out. It's exquisitely crafted. "She apologizes for the sub-par quality..."
"You must be kidding me," I say as I study the dresses in awe. I've never seen anything like this... I imagine not even mortal Queens dress this well. "Tell her there's no need for anything else. And compliment her."
I look through them—greens, yellows, reds. Those are my colours.
"What do you think?" I turn to Larimar.
She blushes. "Um..."
"Surely you have an opinion. I can't choose... which one should I put on?"
"A-are you asking me? Seriously? I shouldn't..." she stutters.
"Oh, come on. Us girls should stick together... I don't know which one the Lord would like best. And I'd like to please him."
"Well, yellow and gold are his favourite colours," Larimar says. "Perhaps this simple yellow one?" She pulls out a dress. *Simple*, she calls it. Perhaps by Aurea Spira's standards. Mine? Certainly not.
I appreciate that Citrine still kept traces of Niemi culture even in these simple dresses, though they are not traditional by any means. I assume she's saving the sharpest of swords for my debut at court.
"Let's go with the yellow dress, then," I say, gently taking it from Larimar. I'm terrified of wearing it to breakfast, of eating anything while dressed like this... what if I stain it? I'd die.
"Allow me to help you."
I blink, taken aback. "Um..."
She looks at me, confused.
"Ah... alright." I've never had anyone help me dress, but I've heard high-born ladies have their maids do so. It feels strange to think of myself as one...
Larimar is gentle and practiced as she helps me undress and put the dress on. I'm shy about my body, but I push through it. I don't want to offend her... and besides, I need to get used to my new role. I will be the Queen, after all.
"There," she says, tying the lace at the back. "You look beautiful, our Queen."
"Don't call me that yet. I haven't even been wed or crowned."
"I have no doubts you will be," Larimar assures me and steps back.
I approach the large mirror in its golden frame and look at myself...
Even with my ugly face, I look beautiful. Of course I do. The dress fits me perfectly—it was tailored for my curvy body, after all. Even with its simple shape, the yellow fabric is so rich, so deep in colour, I've never seen anything like it. I'm left breathless, staring at my reflection.
Still... I wish my face were prettier.
"Are you ready?" Larimar asks.
I nod.
---
Larimar leads me through the halls. Luckily, no one is around. I assume that's why she woke me so early... to make sure I'm not seen. I'm a secret to be kept. I'm not dim; I know it's for the best. I'm a mortal. The courtiers are dragons. Surely they aren't happy about this marriage.
Larimar takes me up the stairs... to the very top floor of the palace. The entire suite belongs to Duarte. He isn't subtle at all.
"The Lord prefers heights... most dragons do," Larimar tells me. "That way he can fly away whenever he wants and return unbothered."
It makes sense.
She stops in front of large golden doors and opens them. They lead onto a balcony... a massive one, larger than some mortals' houses. I don't think I'll ever get used to the scale of this place.
Duarte sits at a table toward the back. Yellow rose bushes are scattered everywhere, forming a small garden... an oasis. Farther back is a quiet nook beneath a tree, perfect for reading or meditation. It's breathtaking.
He looks up from his book and smiles.
"Please... come here, Enya."
I approach with a nervous smile. "Good morning."
"You look beautiful," he says, gesturing to a chair. Larimar pulls it out and I sit.
"I will serve breakfast," she says, retreating.
I smile politely as she leaves, then turn back to Duarte. He closes his book and sets it aside.
"I take it you slept well?"
"Indeed. But you've seen where I used to live."
"You'll get used to this. It's not hard to grow accustomed to luxury."
I imagine it isn't.
"Now, you must be wondering about the next steps. The marriage must be officiated by Celestia. It may take a few moons." He crosses his legs, studying me. "In three days, I will present you to the court. You will be officiated as Seer and as my fiancée. Dioptase will help you adjust—etiquette, politics, the customs of Dragonia..."
I nod. It all sounds reasonable.
"There are ways things are done in Aurea Spira, Enya." He leans closer. "Do you enjoy riding?"
"I do." He means horses, of course.
"Then you know that chestnut breeds are the most difficult to tame. Wild creatures, fire coursing through their veins..." His eyes gleam dangerously. "Just like you."
"You'd compare me to a horse?" I lift my chin.
"To the most beautiful creature of the mortal world? Yes."
I hear a trolley approaching and glance back. Larimar is returning with breakfast. Duarte leans back.
"Larimar, serve the food. And Enya—come with me." He rises. I follow, curiosity overpowering hunger.
He stops at the balcony railing and whistles.
Nothing happens at first.
Then—like a falling star, like a meteor—a red streak cuts through the morning sky. I gasp and step back, but Duarte catches my hand.
"Don't show fear, Enya," he whispers. "Or it will know."
I nod, tense... and the red shadow lands with a heavy thump.
I stop breathing.
It's a griffon. Red and white, magnificent. Its beak gleams in the sun, wings spread wide, catching the dawn's light. It clicks its tongue, bird-like, and fixes me with eyes like a lion's.
I'm awed. And terrified. It could kill me in a single move.
"Be gentle. Be respectful," Duarte murmurs, guiding my hand forward. "He is yours to keep... but like you, difficult to tame."
Surely an easier-tempered griffon would suit a mortal better! Why give me *this* one?
Still, I meet its gaze. I won't back down. It stares right back.
Duarte lifts my hand toward its beak.
"Bow," he whispers.
I do.
For a moment... nothing happens.
Then the griffon screeches. I flinch as it rears onto its hind legs, screaming. Duarte pulls me back sharply.
"Behind me."
I obey. With a violent rush of wings, the creature takes to the sky, crying out as it vanishes.
It rejected me.
"Don't worry," Duarte says calmly. "It will warm to you. It sensed your fear."
My hands tremble. I doubt it ever will.
"It was only your first encounter, Enya." He guides me back to the table. "Sit."
"Surely a brown griffon would've been a better gift?" I joke weakly.
"Easier, yes. But better? More fitting?" He shakes his head. "I don't expect it to be tame... just as I don't expect you to be. But this court is a particular place. You must understand that."
I nod silently.
"Enemies are everywhere. When I present you, you will be fresh meat in a lion's cage. You cannot show fear. Not like you did today."
I nod again...
...but my heart races.
Fast.
And terrified.