Glen Falls – III

Chapter Three

Cora couldn’t believe she had moved past her near death experience and had gone out as far as the Great Forest Lake with the prince almost every morning since that day. Tamora had taken exceptionally well to the subtle movements of her knees, and the gentle taps on her scales that told her where Cora meant to go. Madam Zinda had seemed to make it a priority to meet them at the Tower every time they returned and made such a fuss of Cora, that it now became a joke within the prince’s wing. As a unit, there was a degree of camaraderie amongst the prince’s people that was unheard of in the rest of the castle, where politics and collusion made factions everywhere. And they accepted her easily, bringing her into their jokes, sharing their laughter with her, offering their teaching and their time, as though she’d always been there. While she’d spent her two years as a page trying to prove herself amongst her class, the prince’s people seemed to take her skill as a matter of course, whether because they trusted the prince for not choosing a terrible squire, or because they trusted Sir Geralt’s training. Whatever the cause, it was a welcome change living in the prince’s quarters.  

They had been flying out for about two months and a half, the terrifying trip over the lake largely past them and Cora had gained some grudging respect for the prince. He rode his dragon as though the beast was an extension of his body. He explained things in a way that made it clear he understood completely the biology of the topic. From using air-currents to fine-tuning mapping of an amorphous area. Over the nearly ten weeks he’d cuffed Cora’s ear once, for not paying attention while he explained diving off your dragon and letting the mount catch you. But he was surprisingly quite nice; he’d outfitted her in the highest quality armor, and she had only to mention something before it was purchased and available in her suite. He was patient in his teaching – usually – and was never stingy with praise.  

It was around the first day of Spring that they went beyond the Great Lake and started to enter the sandy beaches of the Southern world. They hovered just at the edge of the Cold Forest and looked past the oasis that that the first Southern city, Lo Khanin. 

“We will plan to head over there tomorrow,” Theodore was saying, his eyes narrowed, as though he could see past the city beyond the southern border. “It will be a week of traveling before we reach Ei Dhan.” 

“Philip gave me the rooms we have arranged for the week,” Cora confirmed, having gotten on such comfortable terms with Sir Philip that they’d abandoned all formality. It was also to Philip, one night after too much rice wine, that she’d confided the crush she had on the prince, after so many hours in his presence. It had certainly been an awkward revelation, and she had fully expected Philip’s laughter, because it was probably the thing he heard most about the prince. A stupid girl’s unrequited crush.  

But he’d looked at her strangely, and asked, in a too serious tone, “Do you really?” 

She’d let out a nervous laugh and taken a large swig from her glass. “I think so,” she confessed under her breath. 

“What an interesting turn of events,” Philip had said, and then took a long drink. He stood after that, and given her his usual quick bow, before heading to his quarters. Cora had not brought it up the next day, and neither had he. So, she took it to mean that they were pretending the conversation had not happened.  

“You speak Ghalic?” the prince asked, recalling her to the present. It was a common Southern language that most southerners spoke, if in sometimes different dialects. But as a common tongue, it made commerce and travel much easier. 

“Yes, fairly well, and in two different accents and three dialects,” she confirmed, with a bit of smugness. He looked over at her and chuckled, as he often did when she started bragging about something. He didn’t care, he’d told her; she was the best, because he’d picked her, and of course the crown prince’s squire was the best. It was very round-about logic, but it made it impossible for her to self-deprecate, because then she was apparently implying that the crown prince had made a poor choice. Which, of course, was impossible. 

“Good, we will need to blend in, to some degree before we reach Ei Dhan, and our entourage, no matter how spread out, will already have the city on alert.” 

“Why can’t we just show up as is? The southerners will know who we are anyway.” She asked, circling him and Veres, his dragon, who she’d come to know in the last two months as a formidable beast.  

Prince Theodore chuckled, urging Veres upward away from Tamora’s tightening radius. Tamora was enjoying the game and followed the black dragon eagerly. 

“A race, Cora? You win, I answer your question.” 

“My question?” But he’d already kicked Veres into attention and was plowing through the clouds. Fuck. Cora squeezed at Tamora’s sides and bent her body to the dragon’s back, their signal now, for speed. Tamora was already moving, her head lowered, her wings straight and tight. In a fair race, Cora was sure Tamora could take Veres, but with a head-start, it was impossible to overtake them, and for a moment Cora contemplated taking the dive from Tamora’s body that would have meant she hit the ground before Theodore. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, she landed seconds after him with a curse. She would learn the answer to that question very soon, she just needed to be persistent and attentive.  

XX 

The next day, they made the journey to Lo Khanin, arriving at the house, Paradise Nest, where they had reserved rooms at just after noon. They took a late lunch, and the prince’s people slowly filled the surrounding rooms and buildings over the course of the day. It was a bustling city usually, so even an unusually large number of foreigners did not really raise a brow. Sir Philip, who was monitoring the portables, confirmed the last soldier at about seven-thirty in the evening. Three parties of two would be arriving tomorrow, throughout the day and would monitor each city they left for anyone following them. The city of Lo Khanin was infiltrated without much fanfare, and several of the men took the night to explore the city. It was somewhere close to ten o’clock that night, when Philip arrived at her door. 

“Philip…good evening?” They’d had an early dinner in the prince’s rooms, and then dispersed into their adjoining suites.  

“Hello Cora…I…er hesitate to share this, but I rather think you’ll both thank me.” 

“Huh?” 

“If you are not prepared for bed, there is a place I could take you. There is a person currently there who you may meet under very different circumstances.” 

“I don’t understand…what you’re saying…” She gave him a quizzical look. 

“The person we spoke of, a week ago?” Sir Philip’s pointed question gave Cora pause, and she racked her brain for someone they had spoken of in the last week. Theodore entered her mind many times, but she dismissed him as being an impossible answer. 

“Cora, this cannot be so difficult a mystery, surely?!” He asked, exasperation creeping into his voice. 

“You don’t mean…?” She raised a brow and her hands to indicate a large person. 

“Indeed, that is who I mean.” 

“Are you…are you sure? What do you mean?” 

“Do you want to meet him, Cora, under different circumstances from your norm?” 

“Different…good?” She asked for confirmation. 

“Different good.” 

“Yes…I mean, yes!” She felt her breaths come rapidly as the possibility of meeting Theodore as a man who was not her knight commander, settled in her mind.  

“All right. You’ll need a mask.” 

XX 

Glass Palace was the name Sir Philip had given the glittering house, that seemed like a crystal castle in the night. At the entrance, a large man, whose red turban and loose trousers told them he was a local, checked identification and led guests into an anteroom where their portables were scanned to submit a ‘waiver of liability.’ Cora went through many excuses for why this might be a terrible idea, but in the end, had been unable to resist the temptation of seeing the prince, without the barriers that now kept her from expressing how she’d grown to feel. Except… When Philip had explained what sort of establishment the Glass Palace was, Cora had needed to sit down. In addition to her not knowing that such places existed, she had never imagined it would be a place the prince would frequent.  

In retrospect, the sort of man who knew his way around a spanking would obviously find pleasure in a house completely dedicated to every variation of that sort of enjoyment. And that would have been a deterrent if she hadn’t spent the last two months reliving the moment when he’d pulled down her trousers and exposed her bare bottom to his gaze. She had squirmed in bed, thinking of how he’d held her pinned to the bed, applying the flat of the hairbrush across her cheeks, again and again. A pleasure wand she’d secretly purchased at a store in Cape Aston, sometimes in that wet place between her legs, and sometimes, tickling the tiny hole between her cheeks. In every scene, Theodore was there, fresh in her mind, dominating her body. Tonight, she could create more scenes, more material for the explosive feelings her naughty play engendered. The Gold Room was the one Philip had said she should ask for, and none other. Two guards stood on either side of the door; tall, muscled, local women, armed with short-swords and stinger-rods.  

Cora stood outside the door in the only dress she owned, the one her mother had brow-beaten her into purchasing, before she left for Glen Falls. Araminta Ei Dhan had been sure that seeing herself in the finery of a debutante gown would convince Cora of the folly of stepping away from that world. On a whim, Cora had packed the dress with her, as a reminder of what she’d left behind. Now, she was only happy the dress still fit her. It was in sprigged muslin, dyed a periwinkle blue, with a lace corset that settled in a bow below her chest. She had felt herself flush at the appraising look one of the attendants had given her upon her entry, before giving her a demi mask in a similar blue to replace the black one she wore. He wrote something on a card and handed it to her. It was sort of a dance card she realized, turning it over, where she could mark arrangements or engagements for the night. At the top, the attendant had also given her a moniker, which she hadn’t thought to question: The Innocent.  

He had winked at her, before standing aside to allow her entrance into the main rooms. Cora nodded, feeling slightly awkward. Had he given her a theme for the night? It was certainly true, for she had no experience with this sort of thing. Someone tapped on her shoulder, and she turned to face a tall, exquisitely beautiful woman, with raven curls, hazel eyes and shimmering bronze skin. Cora swallowed, feeling her mouth fall open. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a more stunning human. 

“Excuse me?” Cora asked tentatively. 

“Are you available tonight, little lamb?” 

“Am I what?” She didn’t get to answer before the beauty plucked her card from her fingers. 

“Empty? We must rectify that.”  

“Wait!” She stayed the hand that was about to pencil something into the card space. “I’m…um…I’m here for the Gold Room? Sorry, I should have said that…” She hesitantly snagged her card before anything was written. 

“The Gold Room?” The woman seemed surprised. “Are you only playing an innocent then?” 

“I…I’m not…no.” 

“And you know the rules of that room?” She raised a brow, her eyes narrowed through her silver mask. She stared at Cora in a way that made her glad she could not possibly be recognized here. She nodded quickly, which was what Philip had told her to do if anyone asked about the rules of the Gold Room. Of course, he had not had time to explain what those rules actually were. He had had time to bring her here and then leave for another engagement. Now, she was only glad she knew to say yes to that question, because the beauty, although still appearing skeptical, nodded. 

“Come with me.” She started walking away and Cora followed, hoping this was the right thing to do. They crossed the main hall, and a sort of stage where groups of patrons were engaged in play, and a dining area where a bar offered drinks of all kinds. Non-alcoholic, a sign stated, which made sense considering the trust required for these kinds of games. Past the bar and down a spiral staircase, they reached a short corridor. 

“The Gold Room is down this hall, there will be two guards waiting, and you can hand them your card.” 

“Thank you!” Cora meant it. 

“If…if you don’t get in… I’ll be upstairs,” the woman added, giving her a small smile. “Ask the bartender for Terra if you can’t find me. Good luck.” With that, she left. If she didn’t get in? There was a chance she could be refused? Philip hadn’t told her that… It cost fifty gold credits to get in here, a little over three times her monthly allowance as a squire, this better not have been a waste of time. She shook the thought away and started forward. 

Standing outside the door, she faced the two guards, who observed her in silence. Was she supposed to say something? 

“I…I was hoping to go in?” Cora started, holding out her card. 

“They all are, little girl.” One of them commented, while the other laughed. Not a great start. 

“Why are you here?” The funny one asked. 

“I…I…” Fuck. Philip had just told her to go to the Gold Room, not what to say to get in there. And she was fairly certain that announcing that she was looking for the Northern Crown Prince was not the way to go.  

“You what?” 

“I came here, to meet…him…” She mumbled…wondering if the prince had a code name or something. Thanks Philip.  

“To meet…him?” The one who had laughed asked. She put some emphasis on the pronoun, that made it seem particularly significant. 

“Yes…to meet him.” She bit her lower lip against any more nonsense, since this seemed to be getting her somewhere. The woman looked at her colleague and they exchanged a speaking glance that Cora tried to understand. 

“Your card?” The woman nodded toward the object, holding out a hand. Cora surrendered it and watched her turn it over with a smirk. 

“The Innocent? A new angle.” She spun around and tapped an Access Bar on the door, which slid open, and disappeared into the room. The remaining woman looked bored and even stretched her neck while they waited. What would happen now? Would she be rejected at the door? What could have gained her immediate access? Maybe she should have written Gold Room on her card? For some reason, that didn’t seem right. After what seemed like an eternity, the other woman returned, and held out her card. She also stood aside and beckoned Cora forward. 

“I can go in?” 

“This way, please, he’s waiting.” He’s waiting? She experienced panic; could she do this if he knew? If she knew that he knew? “Hurry, please, we need to shut the door.” Cora mumbled an apology and entered. The door closed quickly, and the space was briefly dark, before a glow from above lit the entrance in a golden glow. The woman started forward and Cora followed as they went through a short hallway before reaching another door. 

“Only you go in, from here.” The woman smiled, a tight closed-lipped sort of smile, before tapping open the door. She gave Cora a not-ungentle push into the room. The door shut behind her and Cora took in the Gold Room. 

The walls were smooth, almost as though they were covered in black leather, and torches lit with dancing gold flames lit up the room. Stairs led to the center of the room, theater style, where there was a conspicuous empty space. There were stairs also leading up to the opposite side of the room, from where she stood. On that side, there were chairs, presumably to view whatever took place in the center. On that side, sat the occupants of the room, about six people, in various states of dress, all lounging, at ease.  

“Is this the next bit of entertainment, Alo?” A woman asked, looking toward the man who sat in the center. The prince. Cora felt a gasp choke her. 

Even with the mask, there was no mistaking that imposing figure, no hiding those flashing blue eyes, no disguising that golden hair that fell to his shoulders, and no ignoring that teasing smile. He crooked a finger, beckoning her forward. Cora swallowed and took tentative steps down the stairs, until she stood in the center of the room. 

“What is your name?” The prince spoke, tilting his head as though trying to see something beyond her. She cleared her throat, twisting the strings of her purse, trying to decide how to answer. 

“The Innocent?” She was practically whispering and could barely hear herself above the crackle of the flames around them. Surprisingly, it was cool in the room, not as blazing hot as all those torches should have made it. Her answer was apparently amusing to the crowd as loud laughter followed it. She felt herself flush and couldn’t believe she was putting herself through this situation. Theodore’s smile widened, and he turned a finger in the air in her direction. Turn around? Leave? She felt her throat tighten. Did he somehow know it was her? Was this his answer to her pathetic attempt to see him outside of training?  

“Oh, don’t cry, pet, give us a twirl,” someone said, one of the men, Cora noted. Ohhh. She swallowed again, and gave a hasty twirl, dabbing at her eyes quickly. When she was facing them again, Theodore’s expression was more serious, and he’d sat up in his chair. The change in his position seemed to affect the room, as the others slowly rearranged themselves to be a little less relaxed.  

“Sans, I think you will all need to find some other entertainment tonight,” Theodore was saying, his expression increasingly more intent. 

“Alo…” One of the women started to protest but stopped when Theo turned to her, with a look that even from Cora’s distance felt cold. With some murmurs, the room was suddenly empty save for Theodore and Cora. In her head, she thought immediately that he must know and was about to expose her. She was chewing at her lip, trying to think of an excuse for why she would come here, when he would inevitably ask. 

“Stop that.” The stern tone, so familiar, and somehow darker now, made her jump. “Or I’ll have to find something to do with your mouth.” 

“Sorry!” She bit her lip again and hurriedly released it. Ugh, all her habits were coming out. He ignored that, it seemed. 

“Do you understand the rules of this room?”  

“Er…” She wanted to say yes, but this would be her last chance to find out what they were. 

“In this room, you do not tell me ‘no.’ You do exactly what I say, without complaint, without delay. If there is something you don’t know how to do, you will tell me. I am happy to explain exactly what I want; your part is to try. If there is something you are uncomfortable with, you may tell me. That doesn’t mean we won’t do it, only that I want to know what your limits are. If I tell you to do something, and you fail to obey, I will punish you.” He leaned further forward, taking a glass from his right and sipping on the liquid. His words were sending bolts of lust through her core and Cora found it difficult not moaning out loud. As though he could sense her emotional state, he smiled, a flash of white teeth. 

“I will touch you in places and in ways you may be unfamiliar with. I will not mark you, but I will hurt you,” he continued, sitting back now, the glass by his lips, the gentle clink of ice interspersing his words. “If you accept these rules, you may stay. If not, turn around.” I started at the abrupt ending. In this room, you do not tell me no. I would be completely at his mercy. 

“I accept.” 

“Good girl.” He placed the glass on the table beside him. “Take off the dress.” 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,…

Glen Falls – II

Chapter Two

Cora waded through the rock pool by the Squires recreational area. It was well past midnight probably by now, at least two in the morning, if she could guess by the moon. She had snuck out here about an hour ago and now alternated between floating across the pool and taking a few awkward laps from one end to the other. Swimming had not been her strongest skill. This pool however, especially late at night, had been a perfect escape in particularly difficult parts of her training; the peaceful lapping of the water against the rocks had always relaxed her. 

Now she considered that she would miss it, if they were heading down south. But not to her home. She should send a message to Neil, her brother and the only sibling who still spoke to her, to see if he would be close by while they were there. She hadn’t even told him she’d gotten a knight commander. A royal one. Would he think what the others did, that the prince meant to simply dally with her? No, Neil was much more sensible. And, in any case, from what she now knew of the prince, dalliance was the furthest thing from his mind. She felt her body flush as she recalled for the millionth time this evening, his embarrassing punishment. A boy would have been unfazed being so exposed, she thought, but she was absolutely mortified. At least it had been the hairbrush and not… Here, Cora paused as she realized she had thought, not with what should have been complete horror, of the prince spanking her with his hand. He had large hands, callused from dragon-riding she thought, and she recalled the warmth that had spread across her face when he’d touched her. After striking her face. She shook her head to dislodge these thoughts from her mind and ducked under the water. 

Holding her nose, the muffled sounds above her may have been suspicious, but never could she have imagined someone else coming down here. Most trainees preferred the larger Tower Pond for midnight gatherings, as they were usually in large groups. So, her shock upon seeing booted feet surrounding the pool when she emerged drew a piercing scream from her. She dived back under the water, mostly because she belatedly realized she was completely nude and the men surrounding her were staring directly at her bare body. Wrapping her arms around her torso, she wished fervently that the pool wasn’t so crystal clear, and the moon not so bright.  

“Squire Coraline, the prince has requested your return to the royal wing. If you would please join us.”  

Cora didn’t even know who had spoken, she was simply flabbergasted that he had somehow known she’d snuck out and sent people to find her. Damn. 

“Er…could you turn around?” 

“Of course. The prince…er also requests that you turn your portable back online.” Crap. She’d forgotten about turning it off, but only because she was so used to going off the network whenever she left the main castle. 

“Yes, sir,” she muttered, as they all turned from her, in unison. She moved to the edge of the pool where her clothes lay and pulled herself out, dressing hurriedly and not looking to see if anyone glanced back at her. They were royal guards, as far as she could tell, and were probably too disciplined to do something like that. 

“I’m…I’m done,” she announced, turning her portable back on. 

“And your portable?” The man, who she recognized as Sir Philip, second-in-command in the prince’s private battalion, asked politely. 

“Done,” she replied, waving the device so he could see the screen. 

“This way then,” he said, with a nod. They all began marching back toward the castle. It was a long, cold walk back and Cora felt distinctly uncomfortable with the entourage. How much trouble was she in? There was no specific rule about being outside at night…it was very much unspoken.  

“Squire Coraline,” Sir Philip began. 

“Cora, please,” she corrected. 

“Squire Cora,” he continued. “A word of caution; His Highness is a strict master and tolerates very little untoward from those in his service. Those squires who survive his training are certainly excellent but have done so, survived I mean, by not courting his ire. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Sir Philip,” she acknowledged in a low voice.  

Survived, she thought, shivering slightly. The man gave a hum of approval and said nothing more. They returned to the Crown Prince’s private wing in silence, and she was deposited in front of her new room, before the guards all turned around. Cora gave them a deep bow, apologizing that they’d needed to leave their warm beds for her sake. Secretly, she thought that they hadn’t, and their eccentric master had forced them out into the cold at two in the morning. Sir Philip watched her tap an Access Bar on the door and enter before leaving, with a “good night.” 

“Be ready in the morning, six-thirty.”  

The message arrived with a buzz to her portable almost as soon as her door shut. From ‘HRH, Crown Prince Theodore Alexus Cornelius Black.’ She snorted in a burst of laughter. Cornelius? For some reason, she had not noticed that from his first message. She’d been too panicked trying to figure out how to respond to read his full name. Her knees were weak with laughter by the time she settled into occasional chuckles. But until she finally fell asleep, every time the name Cornelius entered her mind, she couldn’t prevent a fit of uncontrollable giggles.  

XX 

Cora woke with a jolt, thinking it was impossible that it was already time for her alarm to go off. But she swiftly remembered the message from the prince and the new alarm she’d set to avoid being late for their appointment, whatever it was. She blinked in the darkness, her body begging her to stay in bed, but her mind forcing her feet to the floor. She trod heavily to the bathroom, grumbling under her breath, as she hurriedly washed her face. What did the message even mean? Be ready. For what exactly? She pulled on her training suit – of her new attire that the prince’s valet had shown her upon touring her through her new suite. As the prince’s squire, she had a significant upgrade in living quarters and in clothing. All in his colors of blue and silver. She braided her hair in one neat bundle and strapped the curls in a length of leather. Her curls, small, endless spirals that, left unbound, formed a massive halo around her head and down her back, had been the bane of her training. 

She checked the time on her portable and saw she had about thirty seconds before six-thirty. She was approaching the door, when a knock came. Sir Philip was on the other side, and gave her a bow in greeting. She returned it, feeling somewhat guilty that he too had to be awake at this ungodly hour.  

“The prince is waiting for you by the Dragon Tower,” he said, by way of explanation. Then he led her in silence to the inside of the tower which she’d never been privileged enough to see. She’d seen the tower many times from the outside, its enormous overhanging balcony being its distinctive feature. Occasionally there was actually a dragon landing or taking off from one of the broad ledges. 

The prince was there, out on the balcony, one hand on a sleek, black, Northern Horn-Tail, that had to be at least fifteen feet long. It certainly seemed to dwarf Tamora who was also waiting on the balcony. Upon seeing her beast, she ran forward, having only had a few minutes to see to her last night. 

“Tamora! Dear girl, how did you get up here.”  

“I’d like to see how you fly, Squire Cora. That is why your dragon is here.” 

“Oh! Your Highness, good morning.” She hurriedly gave a deep bow, having forgotten herself after seeing Tamora. “Um…about last night…I…” 

“We’ll talk about that in a moment, Cora,” he interrupted, already climbing the saddle. “Up, now. I want us over the Cold Forest by eight.” What?! She scrambled aboard Tamora, who shook herself testily, seeming to wonder if Cora meant to use her mercilessly like last time. 

“Sorry, girl,” She stroked her flank, added, “Don’t worry, it will be normal flying this time.”  

Whether Tamora understood or not, she settled down and walked up to meet the prince’s mount by a launching runway. 

“Keep up, Cora.” He turned, with a smile as he said it, and Cora was both blinded by the flash of teeth and spurred by the challenge. 

“Up, Tamora, keep up with that inky fiend.” The dragon definitely seemed to sense the strum of energy in Cora’s breast, as they rose in a burst from the runway, easily approaching the dark figure of the prince. When they were practically head-to-head, Prince Theodore dived. Or at least he got his dragon to dive.  

“Down Tamora!” It was Tamora’s favorite activity, those sudden nose dives, and she thrilled at the opportunity to show off. Although the Horn-Tail likely had more power, Tamora was a demon for speed. She surpassed the prince’s dragon and even approached the forest at a closer distance before making an acute turn back up to the clouds. Cora barely smelled the forest before they plunged again into the clouds.  

She looked back to see if she could spy the prince behind her, but he wasn’t there. Tamora saved her with another quick, upward deflection, when they almost collided with the prince who had suddenly popped up in front of them. Fuck. 

She looked to her left, where the prince was making a spiral upward. And then suddenly, he was falling. His dragon spun once more, before seemingly plunging back-first, downward. Her scream was strangled, and she squeezed at Tamora’s saddle, to get her to follow the prince’s descent. She was just close to where he had disappeared beneath the clouds, when in a burst that almost threw her off Tamora, he re-appeared, his dragon’s wings slicing dangerously close to Tamora’s belly. The dragon was furious and roared, raising her head already to send a burst of fire toward the prince. 

“No! Tamora, no!” The prince was already away from the line of fire anyway, she realized with relief. He drifted above her a moment later, to Tamora’s continued irritation. 

“I want you to keep up, Cora. Your turn, you saw what I did.” He was swiftly once more out Tamora’s reach, much to the dragon’s frustration.  

“It’s okay, girl, plenty of meat waiting for you. This is just training. Now feint!” She squeezed once more with her knees and Tamora spun unto her back, letting her weight plunge downward. It had been one of her tricks when Cora had first started to ride her, but at twelve, the thrill had just been enough to keep her riding. Also, Tamora’s saddle was a full one, and allowed Cora to keep her feet safely tucked into the stirrups.  

Cora no longer wondered if and when Tamora would spin around; they had done it so many times, it was routine at this time. She even relaxed as they continued to fall; a move that was guaranteed to confuse an enemy and provide a quick element of surprise. So, she wasn’t ready for the surprise, of something clutching her collar and pulling her bodily, out of Tamora’s saddle. She screamed, for a moment worried she was about to go plunging toward the ground, but she was swung unto a dragon’s back. 

“You need to be vigilant, Cora, or bad things happen,” the prince said, above her, rising upward, in the opposite direction of Tamora. Had the dragon even noticed she’d lost her rider? Cora tried to right herself on the dragon’s back, but a heavy arm kept her in place. Fuck. What did this mean for their session? No one had ever plucked her right off Tamora’s back, as no-one had ever dared to get that close to the dragon.  

From their higher position, they suddenly began to drop, based on what appeared to be a silent command by the prince. 

“There’s no point, Cora, in calling out your dragon’s next moves, to give your opponent a preview of what you intend.” She felt herself flush at this criticism and vowed to somehow train Tamora in silent commands. But how did he do it? 

They’d flown further into the forest and Tamora was nowhere to be seen. Double damn. Cora tried to see over the dragon’s neck for where they were, but the hand that kept her in place was relentless. She caught the first shimmering glimpse of the Great Forest Lake, and realized they’d flown to the middle of the Cold Forest. They were hovering some fifty feet above the surface, from what she could tell, and she wondered if the prince meant to turn around. He did something else. One moment she was laying, pinned between dragon and prince, and the next, she was hauled into the air and suddenly plummeting toward the lake. Her scream was strangled in her throat, as her limbs flailed helplessly, and she felt her heart skip a beat. From this height, she was sure to break every bone in her body hitting the water, and spirits save her, swimming was not her strongest suit even if she survived. Moments before impact, she was sure, an enormous black cloud swooped beneath her and seized her collar again. She was once more atop the prince’s dragon, and they were rising back up.  

“Stop that noise, Cora,” the dry voice of Prince Theodore somehow penetrated the garbled screams that were somehow coming from her. She was clutching her chest, from where her heart seemed about to leap out of her body. “Thank you.” He sounded bewilderingly calm for having just thrown her off his dragon, and she turned to curse at him, but once more her collar was grasped, and she instinctively grasped the arm that held it. It didn’t prevent her from now dangling precariously once more above thin air and the black surface of the lake. 

“What are you doing?!” He was impossibly strong, for he held her arm’s length away from the dragon.  

“Do you have your portable on you, Cora?” He asked instead. 

She stared at him, her face contorted in confused horror, trying to understand the question. 

“Yes!?” Her legs, no matter how she swung them, couldn’t reach the dragon’s body. The beast was rising, still, seeming to bounce from one air current to the next. Where the heck was Tamora? Why wasn’t she here to rescue her from this monster? 

“Is it turned on?” 

“What?! Yes!” Was this because she’d turned it off last night? 

“Good, I’d like you to keep it that way. Or the next time I bring you up here…” He didn’t finish the sentence before flinging her once more from him and she lost her grasp of his arm. For the second time in her life, Cora contemplated her imminent death. This time, she had a clear view of the lake’s surface approaching too fast, undeterred by the flapping of her arms and legs. Almost too late, she was, for the second time, caught by the prince. 

“I won’t catch you.” The life altering seconds between his words made it a struggle for her to comprehend, but they soon stitched themselves together in her mind. The next time I bring you up here, I won’t catch you. The next time? She could barely remember to breathe, her chest feeling raw from screaming, her heart still frozen with fear. She was across the dragon again, her stomach roiling to expel its contents but finding itself empty. She had to escape; she could not survive this. How had she never heard what a complete psychopath the prince was? All people talked about were his skills in the bedroom, when it was impossible that that could eclipse insane behavior like throwing squires off dragons…or out of windows?! Was he trying to convince her to abandon her pursuit of knighthood? The horrible thought made her wonder if Sir Geralt would still be willing to let her reject the prince’s offer.  

She had only accepted because it seemed her only path to knighthood. But now she was sure she just needed to convince one of the older library-knights, as they called them, to take her on. She could train in combat skills on her own, she just needed a knight commander, and anyone at this point would do. Even Sir Geralt would have to agree that endangering the life of your squire was outside of too much. Right? He had to, or she would leave Glen Falls on her own. She knew they were flying back to the castle, because she was tipped further over the beast than last time. The view, magnificent though it was, left her numb. You needed to trust your knight, didn’t you? How could she trust someone who just tried to kill her? Her tears filled the silence as they flew back. Somehow, Prince Theodore’s quietness made things worse. But she hadn’t exactly expected a “sorry I just dropped you from a hundred feet and threatened to do it again next time.” She registered their landing, but still felt limp as the prince let her slide down the bent head of his dragon. Someone was draping her in a cloak and saying soothing words that she barely heard. 

“Poor lass,” Sir Philip said, wiping tears that fell unchecked down her cheeks. “Let’s get you inside. A hot one will you do nicely, I think.” A hot what? She found herself nodding, even though she hadn’t understood his words. 

XX 

Theodore watched Philip guide Cora back into the tower, annoyed by the accusatory glance the other man had sent him, upon seeing his squire. Damn Philip and his soft heart. He only cared because the squire in question was a girl, Theo was sure. He hadn’t cared when Theo had nearly cut off Robert’s – his previous squire’s – finger, although they’d both found the lad a bit of a prick and teaching him a lesson had been Philip’s idea. Why had he looked at Theo as though the prince was an unaccountable monster? For even his last female squire – Katherine Greyjoy – he hadn’t worn kid gloves but had treated her exactly as he’d done the boys. Of course, he’d never had to punish Katherine, she’d been an exemplary squire. It was the one motivation he’d had to request Coraline Ei Dhan; the few female knights that he knew were masters of their craft, and as squires, had been top of their class. From report, Cora was equally skilled, but Geralt had either neglected to mention, or was unaware of her wayward nature.  

“Make sure she’s at breakfast,” he called to Philip, who raised a hand in acknowledgment. Damn Philip, for making him feel guilty for teaching a lesson. He’d been in complete control of the situation, and of Veres, his dragon. He’d never actually put his squires’ lives in danger and had remained more than a hair away from Robert’s finger back then, with his fencing blade. He tossed Veres’ reins to a handler, who had approached tentatively. 

“The other dragon?” He asked the man. 

“She returned about a half hour before you, Your Highness,” the man replied with a bow. 

Odd. Most dragons would have remained, circling the area looking for their master. This one had just gone home. As if it knew its mistress was not in danger. Or as if it didn’t care. Strange indeed, especially from a beast Hamad had warned him this morning to be careful of, if he meant to frighten Cora. Theo had even heard Cora warn the beast off singeing him when he’d come up from beneath it. He’d moved quickly, fully expecting the dragon to send flames his way. 

Damn Philip, he thought again, as he headed back to his suite to change. As unorthodox as his methods were, they were effective, and no squire had ever repeated the behavior he’d intended to correct. The words, annoyingly, didn’t have the effect of convincing himself, as he’d expected, and he simply got increasingly angrier. As it was, he was in a foul mood when he entered his great hall, where his people were preparing to break their fast. It was the one tradition he kept in his house, to dine together, with knights and dragon-riders, mages and scholars, servants and foot guards. While they observed the requisite respect according to their status, they were ultimately of one family. In any case, Theo had promised to install them as his core attendants upon his ascension to the throne, so they were incentivized to mind the peace.  

They rose as he entered, and he waved them to sit back down ignoring formality. He wanted to eat in peace, and hopefully see that Coraline was reasonably returned to normal. His anger had turned inward, and he regretted frightening her in that way. Where the hell was she, anyway? As if in answer to his question, the doors opened to reveal Cora, practically being carried by Philip into the great hall. Theodore fought the urge to roll his eyes and raised a brow at Philip at this overly solicitous behavior. The other man shook his head, which infuriated Theodore, because it gave him no clue as to how Cora was doing. Madam Esmé Zinda, a powerful witch who preferred anonymity and excellent pay, to being known for her talents, rushed forward to receive Cora. Damn. Esmé was notoriously soft with the female trainees and would doubtless blow this out of proportion. 

“Dear girl, dear girl, this way, what has happened?” Esmé’s voice carried through the hall, and most people were looking around to see the new arrival. They knew Theo had picked a squire, but some of them had not seen the lone female squire this year before. 

Esmé led Cora up the hall to the high table, where Theo sat now. He didn’t always sit up here, opting often to dine with his men at the long tables. Today was not a day for socializing however, and he wished the thunderous look he was sending Esmé worked. It didn’t and the older woman brought Cora to sit at his table, her hand in perpetual motion over the squire’s back, occasionally sending Theo dirty looks. 

“What has happened, dear child?” Esmé’s voice continued to carry, in that dry booming way that was her style, and Theo gave up trying to silence her with glares. 

“He…he…threw me off his…his…dragon,” Cora sobbed, in what could have been the world’s shortest horror story by the reaction it got. Hardened knights who had seen him feed his enemies their beasts now looked at him like the veritable devil. Esmé threw him a particularly angry look and he rolled his eyes, stabbing his mutton with a knife. 

“Why would he do such a thing?!” Why indeed, Theo thought, in response to Esmé’s question. Cora was silent, and Theo found himself curious as to how she would answer. Did she even know why he had done it? She cast him a darkling glance first before muttering something to Esmé.  

“Your portable, dear?” Esmé’s clear voice boomed out into the hall. “Well, you know, that was a bit naughty.” Guffaws filled the room at this assessment from Esmé. She looked disgustedly at the room, before turning back to Cora. 

“We lost a man that way, you see. Bad business. Very bad business.” She shook her head, as the hall sobered at the reminder of Crispin of Galleyfield whose remains had been found outside Orc territory months after his offline portable was retrieved from the Cold Forest.  

“But you won’t do that again, will you dear?” Esmé was back to consoling Cora, who now appeared uncomfortable with all the attention. 

“Squire Cora, come here,” he said, to detach her from Esmé and judge for himself, how she was holding up. She rose stiffly and he briefly wondered if she still hurt from her spanking, which took his mind down a less than ideal route. Clearing his throat, he pushed the thoughts away.  

“Sit. In the future, you will always sit at my table. Unless you are serving me, in which case you will stand at my left side.”  

She gave a brief nod to acknowledge his words and sat at the chair on his left side. Philip had taken the position to his right and was very purposely focused on his meal. Theodore waved for a servant, and someone appeared almost instantly with a steaming bowl of porridge, with huge chunks of meat swimming within. Cora showed as much interest as would be expected for a meal of rocks. Philip seemed pointedly now to be ignoring him, which inspired in Theo the urge to kick him off his chair. And on his left, Cora looked as though he’d murdered her dragon. Perhaps she was worried about the beast, he realized. He cleared his throat. 

“Your dragon is back in the stables…if you were wondering.” She turned to him, with a look as though he had two heads. Her frown was adorable however, and he almost allowed a laugh to escape him. He cleared his throat to keep the feeling at bay. 

“I informed Squire Cora of the status of her dragon, Your Highness.” Philip’s unhelpful comment sounded a touch spiteful, and Theo itched to punch him in the face. Whose side was he on, anyway? 

“Thank you,” he said instead, with a tight smile. 

“It may seem harsh,” he started, clearing his throat again, “But I take the safety of my squires very seriously.” Philip snorted loudly, as though an elephant had just possessed his body, and this time, Theo did punch him. 

“Oh?!!” Cora’s expression was one of exaggerated surprise. “Sir! I mean, Your Highness, was that…was that an apology?!” 

“An apology?” 

“I’m just…I’m just…” She’d raised her hands, as though physically slowing the train of his words. “I’m trying to make sure I’m understanding what you’re saying, Your Highness.”  

“There’s no need to raise your voice,” he muttered, seeing the beginnings of a diatribe. Philip was coughing or laughing into his elbow, it was unclear which. 

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness; I’m just overcome.” 

“You’re overcome?” 

“I am,” she said, with a slight head inclination. She sent a glare his way, before stabbing a large piece of meat. 

“Would you like to learn silent commands for dragons?” he asked, after a moment. 

She looked quickly at him, her eyes shining, before they became shuttered again. She gave a loud sigh, stabbing at the chunk of meat for a few moments.  

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said finally, looking up, slowly at him. 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,…

Glen Falls – I

Chapter One 

“Up! Up you treacherous little viper!”  

Coraline Ei Dhan screamed against the wind, her leather-bound hands tightening on the reins of her dragon, Tamora. A thirteen-year-old, ten-foot long, Spike-tailed Red Devil, the beast was as moody and fresh as a human teenager, with a penchant for unexpected nosedives and sneaky deviations in their route when she felt peckish. Ordinarily, Cora would have long-sufferingly redirected Tamora, with a dire warning of no snacks when they returned to the stable. But today was not the day for Tamora’s moods, and at this rate they wouldn’t reach Glen Falls until mid-morning. If Derek’s letter about the prince’s return was accurate, she would already be about six hours late for meeting him. Fuck. She couldn’t have left Tamora back in Cape Aston – the dragon would be as likely to raze their stables as to fly away to cause havoc elsewhere – and she had not even expected any of the princes back until next week, when she planned to take a leisurely journey back to the Glen.  

Now, in rain and gusts of wind that would have thrown off a less experienced rider, she was desperately trying to get her dragon back across the Cold Forest to her home. And why, why did it have to be Theodore? Theodore Black who she was supposed to be squiring for, and who – because of course she couldn’t explain her trip to the Cape – likely assumed she was obediently waiting for his return. When she had begged their training master, Sir Geralt, for an actual knight to squire for, after all her troopmates had been picked first, she couldn’t very well have begged off when he claimed Prince Theodore requested her. She knew she deserved a decent knight commander; she was the best at swordsmanship and air combat, had excellent tactical skills according to Sir Geralt, and could map a hundred-mile area in under an hour on dragon. Unfortunately – and she still cursed in her sleep at this – Prince Theodore had a reputation that made the assignment excellent fodder for bored squires in the lull of the spring. They’d already cast bets on how long she would last before she apparently inevitably fell into his bedroom. The jokes were unoriginal and grating. It was the last thing she needed as the only female dragon rider in the last three years at Castle Glen. 

She gave Tamora’s reins a forceful tug and the beast growled in protest; she usually let her do as she pleased, so the change was likely jarring. Cora’s family raised dragons and Tamora had been the only one left behind from the king’s selection four years ago; according to her father, no one could ride her. Accepting the challenge had meant accepting Tamora’s moods and giving her a little more freedom than another rider would have dared. In return, somewhat grudgingly, Tamora had given Cora loyalty and wouldn’t let anyone else near her. It meant Cora could never leave her to the stableboys for grooming, but also meant no one messed with her beast throughout her training.  

“I know, I know,” she soothed the beast, acknowledging the change in her behavior, “But we need to get back to Castle Glen; spirits know what Geralt will do if I’m not there to greet my knight commander.” And then there was the fact that she’d replied to Prince Theodore’s portable message, claiming she was at the Glen. Tamora appeared to sense her desperation in the plea more so than in her screaming. She lowered her wings and straightened her head in what Cora affectionately called her “Speed Mode,” seeming to propel herself across the sky. Cora bent her body closer to the dragon’s back, tightening her knees in the saddle. 

“Thank you,” she murmured in a sound that was lost to the wind. The sun was cresting the lake to their right as they flew north, the Cold Forest gradually thinning. It was at least past seven o’clock but maybe she could claim she was attending to Tamora in the stables and was delayed getting back to the castle. 

As they eventually approached the castle grounds, she knew it was now closer to ten, from the bustling of people below them. Damn. Tamora knew to head for the stables these days, when for the first year she had simply refused to associate with the other dragons and would fly to the castle gates and force Cora to lead her through the grounds to the Dragon Vale.  

“Good girl, fresh meat for you for sure, I promise.” She whispered, climbing off her back, just outside the stable. She was just leading her into the enormous building when a yell made her jump. 

“Squire Coraline! Where have you been?!” Cora cursed, squeezing her eyes shut with a desperate plea to the gods that the owner of that voice would disappear. 

“I’ve had men looking for you for hours!” 

“Sir Geralt! Good…good morning, I was just out with Tamora. She…er…seemed like she needed the exercise.” Stupid lie, stupid, she thought. 

“We sent messages to your portable, why didn’t you return?!” Geralt’s booming voice echoed through the dome-like stables and grooms, stableboys and dragon hands were turning around to look at them. Cora had turned off her portable, the slim rectangular device that they’d all received as pages, that allowed them to communicate with every other dragon rider. There was a locator that sent a record of where messages were being received – a safety feature that made rescue missions easier – that would have given her whereabouts away. As far as anyone had known she had been studying all this time in her rooms, awaiting her knight commander. 

“I think I forgot to charge it last night, I’m sorry,” she lied quickly, ducking her head in apology. 

“And where have you been these past weeks? Haram says he hasn’t seen you or Tamora in a while.”  

Haram was the stable master and Cora now regretted not filling him in on her journey. Haram would have kept the secret, but now had probably been worried about her. Damn. She stared at the ground, trying to think up an explanation, but must have wasted too long. Suddenly, a painful grip around her left ear dragged her head up. 

“You can explain yourself to your knight commander,” Geralt said, grimly. 

Tamora growled at the abuse, as Cora dropped the reins she’d been holding and started to follow Geralt. 

“You mind yourself, dragon,” Geralt growled in return, sending a glare toward Tamora. The dragon let out a low huff, steam curling from her nostrils, but made no other protest. Cora sent her a pleading look to behave and winced as Geralt’s grip seemed to tighten around her ear. He walked quickly and she stumbled to keep up and avoid her ear being tugged unceremoniously when she missed a step. She sent a small prayer up to the heavens that no one was out in the courtyard as they made this embarrassing trek and for once had her prayers answered. The other squires and pages had probably all been sent to greet the royal assembly and the young knights were probably training in the Vale. 

Geralt said nothing on the long walk to the castle, but Cora could feel his disappointment like heat waves emanating from his body. And occasionally his fingers would tighten around her ear as though he was thinking something particularly blistering. She winced but stayed silent herself, acutely preferring the unspoken admonishment to Geralt’s usual thunderous scolds. They entered the castle and made for the King’s chamber and Cora was now sure Geralt just hadn’t had time to give her the piece of his mind currently reviewing her lateness and long absence. A knock and the doors were thrown open by two pages. Well now the whole castle would know she had been dragged in by her ear, she thought ruefully as they both looked away from her humiliation. Double damn. 

“I have found her, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” Geralt announced, before giving her a shove forward and mercifully releasing her ear. She stumbled a bit, before taking a step out of Geralt’s reach and bowing deeply. 

“Your Majesty. Your Highness. I apologize for my lateness.” 

There was silence for a moment and then a deep chuckle. She tentatively raised her head after a moment. The king, seated on what was his lesser throne, compared to the magnificent seat in the Throne Room, frowned slightly, his brow furrowed, a finger stroking his beard. And beside him sat Prince Theodore. Golden-haired, with crystal blue eyes that flashed now with undisguised humor. A chiseled jaw, straight nose and sculpted lips made him the prince all the bards chose to sing about. It was not that his younger brothers were ugly, they had essentially the same features, but they certainly did not have the irresistible charm which the Crown Prince exuded with such ease. Hearts across the kingdom and beyond had been shattered at the whim of that charm and he was clearly not above using it to his unfair advantage. This was to be her knight commander? Stars. 

She looked down again, feeling her face grow warm as she had been staring. This was not the first meeting she had hoped for, once she’d come to terms with her assignment to the Crown Prince. 

“This is your squire, Theo?” The king asked, finally. 

“Indeed. Don’t let her size fool you, I hear Sir Geralt has trained her well.” 

Geralt made a gruff sound and then cleared his throat. Cora heard the creak of his armor as he bowed. 

“You honor me, Your Highness.” 

“You honor your kingdom, Sir Geralt.” Cora had the urge to roll her eyes but resisted. The king must have had the same urge as he gave a loud harrumph. 

“I will hope that your other trainees have more a care for punctuality, Geralt. Theo, I will trust your judgment.” The king rose and the entire room save the prince, dropped to its knees. 

“Geralt, if you would join me.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” her training master replied, rising and following the long steps of the king out of the room. 

Cora remained kneeling, not sure what to do now. The room was silent for a moment, and she longed to peek up to see what the prince was doing but held herself in check. She heard him getting up and watched booted feet approach her. Large, booted feet, attached to a huge person, reached her and she looked up cautiously. From here, he looked formidable, and Cora was reminded that the Crown Prince had been unmatched in his days as a knight-in-training. He rarely participated in tourneys these days but on the occasion, he was on the lists, it was a treat no page, squire or knight wanted to miss.  

“Coraline, isn’t it? Up with you,” he said, matching the command with a somewhat impatient gesture. Cora rose awkwardly from her knees to face him and considered that he was formidable from this angle as well.  

“Cora Ei Dhan of Ei Dhan Falls, Your Highness,” she practically whispered. She hated the name Coraline. 

“Where are your chambers? Lead the way.” Cora was thrown off by this question-command combo and stared at him for a few moments as she urged her brain to process his words. 

“Sorry?” She asked, instinctively, to fill the silence; a habit she’d learned in childhood, to fill any silence with an apology.  

“You squires still have chambers, don’t you? I admit it’s been some time since my days as a trainee.” 

“Sorry?” 

This time, Theodore raised a brow, and his hand came up, capturing her chin. He turned her face from left to right before directing her gaze at him. 

“What exactly about what I’m saying escapes you, Squire Cora? Are you daft?” 

“No!” She retorted unthinkingly, then hastily added, “Your Highness.” 

His brow rose even further and then let go of her chin, gesturing toward the door. 

“Lead the way.” 

She started walking before she fully processed the order and mentally recalled the path back to the Squire Suites. Years later, she still had to ensure that she didn’t make a wrong turn in one of the many corridors of Castle Glen. The size of a large city, the Castle even had its own currency for exchange within the castle grounds.  

“Where have you been, Squire Cora? These four? Four, isn’t it? Weeks?” 

Cora jumped at the question and stopped, turning to Prince Theodore, her mouth half open. 

“I…I…was…” She couldn’t believe the easy lie she’d prepared wasn’t spilling quickly from her lips. Instead, she was lost, staring into those eyes, deep like the North Ocean, that impossibly perfect, stern face, and looking up at the intimidating distance he towered over her.  

His finger swung upward, as they reached the Great Staircase. 

“Keep going, I haven’t asked you to stop.” 

She closed her mouth and swallowed. 

“Um…right.” She turned around and started up the stairs. He followed, a close distance. 

“Squire Cora, very soon, I am going to hit you,” he commented dryly. “I should warn you, when I hit my squires, I make it count.” 

“Sorry!” She stopped again, turning, so he ran into her. His hand shot out and caught her before she fell backward.  

“I asked you a question, Squire Cora. Where have you been all these weeks? And do not,” he added, turning her, not ungently around, “stop walking.” The push of his propelling hand at the small of her back got her moving again.  

“I…I was here, just in the library a lot, so the others…the others probably just haven’t been seeing me. I…I sent you a message!” She became somewhat excited as she recalled her pre-planned message system with Derek’s help, to send a few messages to people while she was away to establish her location. It had been all to people she’d never actually met, so they wouldn’t think twice about confirming a message “accidentally” sent to them. But she had needed to respond to Theodore’s message after seeing it almost a week late, with keeping her portable turned off most of the time to avoid a message popping in while she was connected to the network. Fortunately, messages sent while the system was off didn’t transmit a post-message location signal when the device was turned back on. It was a flaw in the system, but the trainees all kept it a secret for sending clandestine messages.  

“That was not your portable code, Squire Cora,” he countered, easily, as they arrived at her door. 

“Huh?!” She stopped again, but he grasped the retractable Access Bar, that was attached to her jacket, and tapped it on the door, pushing both her, and the door forward. He shut the door behind them, and then in one quick motion, ripped the Access Bar off her. She gasped and instinctively stepped back. He tapped the door, locking it, and then pocketed her Access Bar. 

“What are you…Your Highness!” She was about to step back, but he had already closed the distance between them. He took her chin for the second time and forced her to meet his eyes.  

“Stupid lass, you should not lie to me.” He seemed to probe her eyes for something, and his eyes narrowed briefly, before his hand left her face, and he moved her out of his way. He was walking forward into her room, looking around at the thankfully neat room that she hadn’t been in for almost a month. He stopped at the vanity, which was the only messy area as she had worked there. Her room was in the mostly empty Female wing of the Squire Suites, which had been outfitted by possibly the most sexist interior designer this side of the North Ocean. He’d designed the place for presumably Ladies in Waiting, even though it had apparently been conveyed to him that these were supposed to house future female pages and squires. On very good-natured days, Cora considered that perhaps he had no experience in what female dragon riders might need in their rooms. On most days, she recalled the utility and efficiency of the few boys’ suites she had seen. While her room had a vanity and a canopy bed in whites and lilacs, the male rooms were fitted with watch stations by the window, a ledge long enough for dragon perching outside the window, desks with overhead lamps, and certainly firmer mattresses.  

Prince Theodore looked across the cluttered tabletop and then his eyes seemed to alight on her one feminine property, a golden hairbrush that had been possibly the stupidest but most used gift from her Aunt Isabelle, who still despaired of not having another debutante in the family to shepherd through High Society. He picked up the wide hairbrush and turned it over in his hand, before nodding to himself. Then he continued further into her room to her too delicate bed, sitting, and then looking curiously at the frame that seemed to squeak under his bulk.  

“Adair will always surpass himself,” he commented, mentioning the name of the designer who had made her room the way it was. “You should see the royal suites,” he added, still scrutinizing the thin twists of metal that made the frame of the bed.  

“Now, you were at Cape Aston, weren’t you?” He asked, suddenly. 

“Sorry?!”  

He blinked and then shut his eyes for a few seconds before reopening them and pinning her in a gaze that was now icy. 

“Cora. I think I may call you Cora,” he began, not making his words an actual question. “If you repeat that perpetually surprised apology one more time, I will proceed directly to giving you something to be truly sorry for. Now, answer my question; yes, or no?” 

“Yes,” she whispered. He knew. Somehow, he knew, definitively, where she had been. 

“What was that?” He snapped, making her jerk her head up. 

“Yes, Your Highness, I was…. I was at Cape Aston all this time,” she said, a little louder.  

He looked at her in silence for a moment, before a bark of laughter escaped him. 

“I’m impressed, Cora, you should know that. In my day, no one could sneak out under The Jailer’s watchful eye.” She assumed he meant Sir Geralt and didn’t add that she’d often wondered if the training master knew she’d been gone but couldn’t be bothered about his one female trainee.  

“Still,” he added, his expression turning serious, “you lied to me, and you should never do that. You know, despite what you may be gleaning from our so far brief interaction, I am usually quite nice to my squires. I’m going to have to be stern with you however; I don’t let my squires pick up bad habits.” 

She blinked and started to thaw from his words, looking from his face to the thick hairbrush in his hand. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, I mean, I didn’t…” She stumbled over her words, unprepared mentally to admit her journey. How had he known? 

“Cora,” he interrupted, pinning her again with that glacial stare. “Come here.” There was little doubt in her mind now of what he intended, and it was clear why he’d locked the door. She looked now at the door before turning back to him. 

“Run?” He asked, raising a brow. “I won’t chase you. What I will do is give you,” here he looked at a black device wrapped around his wrist. “Thirty-seconds, to come here, put yourself across this bed and take your punishment like a good squire.” 

“You can’t! Sir Geralt…” She blurted the words out before realizing that she was relying on the useless fact that Sir Geralt managed discipline amongst the pages and unmatched squires. That certainly would not matter to her knight commander. 

“Or,” he continued, “I will call Sir Geralt here, and request that he punish you. Now, and to my satisfaction.” 

“You can’t!” She repeated, her eyes widening at the horrifying concept. 

“You have a poor understanding of royalty, if you think so, Cora; there are few things I cannot do.” He glanced at his device once more. “Fifteen seconds.”  

She rushed forward, propelled by the embarrassing notion of Sir Geralt being summoned to punish her at the behest of her knight commander. She might as well give up knighthood at such a point. She stopped in front of him, staring at the patch of bed beside his thigh where he’d indicated that she “place herself.” She felt her knees shaking as the reality of what he planned shook her resolve.  

He held her gaze for a moment, before looking down at what she realized must be some kind of wristwatch. 

“Five seconds.” 

She threw herself forward, almost but not quite bumping into him. She considered that she should have delayed this inevitability longer when he took both her hands in one of his and pinned them at the small of her back. 

“Are you going to be a good squire, Cora?” he asked, in a shockingly calm voice.  

“No! Please, no!” Trapped in this ignominious position, she panicked and kicked outward furiously. 

“I can see that,” he commented, as though she’d answered his question. And to her sudden horror, he took the waist of her riding trousers and pulled them, and her cotton undies, to her knees. Her scream filled the room and she bucked ingloriously under his hold.  

“No! Please stop, no! Don’t! Wait!” Tears that had been choked in her breast since she’d landed in Glen Falls late and been accosted by Geralt spilled out and she sobbed into the mattress, squirming desperately. 

XX 

“Wait?” Theodore asked, absentmindedly admiring the buttery smooth, round, golden chestnut bottom that lay before him. Even if he were not an ass-man, there was a lot to admire in a fresh, tight bottom. “Cora, I mean only to teach you not to lie to me, I will not mark you, if that is what worries you.”  

“Please!” She squealed, writhing against his hold, in a bid to escape. He sighed, realizing he was now dragging this along. He swung the flat end of the hairbrush wide, bringing it down across her cheeks with measured force. He’d spanked his fair share of women, and he knew an untried bottom when he saw one. He could have held back further, and she may have protested with the same force, but he did mean to impart some kind of lesson. Never before had he punished a squire directly upon meeting them, but he meant to establish clear boundaries with Cora, and a light punishment would send the wrong message. She fought the entire time, occasionally faltering from possible exhaustion before rousing herself again. He let the hairbrush fall several more times across her cheeks, watching her tighten and squirm in a useless attempt to reduce the pain. He’d said he wouldn’t mark her, but the dusky tone of her bottom now told him she was going to bruise. 

He pulled her clothing up over her well-tanned bottom, admitting to himself that he would rather be doing this under less punitive circumstances. She still sobbed into the overly flowery bedspread, broken sounds that pricked at his conscience despite his resolve to teach her a lesson. He took a breath and reaffirmed that resolve. 

“Kneel, Squire Cora,” he said, finally, taking his hand off hers. She took a moment to recognize what he’d said, testing pushing off the bed, now she was free, and looking up at him. He nodded to the space in front of him, which with a slower pace than he appreciated, she got up and knelt within. 

“If you ever lie to me again, I will cane you. And if you lie to me a third time, you will leave my service, and I promise you, you will never become a knight. Am I being perfectly clear?” He met her still wet eyes to make sure she was absorbing his words. She nodded, biting her lower lip against doubtless more tears. 

“Answer me with words, Cora,” he corrected, wanting her full engagement in this agreement.  

“Yes, Your Highness,” she got out, in a choked voice. 

“In return, I promise to make you a unbeatable knight. My squires, as you are probably aware, have gone on to quite illustrious careers, but I’m a bit of a taskmaster to make that a reality.” 

“Yes, Your Highness,” she repeated, nodding. 

He observed her for a long moment, and decided she had probably learned her lesson, for now anyway. Her oval face, framed by two curly mahogany braids quivered with still unshed tears. But she would have to learn to face him post-punishment if they were to work together in any capacity. 

“You really flew in that?” he asked, nodding toward the window to reference how terrible the weather had been that morning. 

She nodded slowly, as understanding lit up her eyes. 

“Impressive.” And he was; when he’d arrived last night the storm had been just brewing. In the skies, it should have been terrifying for a squire. But clearly not Coraline. Cora. 

“Well, since you’ve already frequented the Cape,” he continued, his eyes still boring into hers. “Returning there should be no great mystery on our way down to the South border.” He hadn’t expected a protest, had in fact expected her to brighten at the prospect of heading toward what was her homeland, but her face clouded. 

“But no…I don’t want…why would we go there?!” Her protest was as forceful as if he’d just banished her to the tundra. And just as rude. He struck her cheek. It was light, and with the flat of the hairbrush he still held. But the way she gasped, grabbing her face, you would have thought he’d backhanded her. He hadn’t had a female squire in three years, he considered; this would certainly take some getting used to. 

“First of all, you do not question your knight commander, Cora. Second, you do not talk to me in that tone.” She looked like she would explode in louder sobs than when he spanked her, and he relented. With a sigh, he took her chin between his fingers.  

“Hush, I won’t hit you again,” he murmured, wiping errant tears off her cheek. “There, and I’m sorry to strike such a beautiful face, I certainly won’t do that again.” She did have a remarkably beautiful face, and he had unwittingly found himself scrutinizing it all this time. Out of a squire’s garb, she would have set court society on its ear. But she had chosen to pursue knighthood. How interesting. 

“What objection do you have to going South?” He asked. 

She looked down with a frown at the question, her lips pursed in a mutinous expression. It was a look quickly corrected in most boys by a swift, and unrelenting backhand. But he’d just promised not to touch her face and he found he was loathe anyway to bring more tears to those sparkling amber eyes.  

“Cora, when I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Or you and I are going to have a very difficult relationship.” She had at least the awareness to smoothen her expression. 

“I have no objection, Your Highness,” she said, finally. She stared at him mulishly, as though daring him to question her words. And she had somehow made his title an epithet. He sighed and cracked his neck for a few moments. He hadn’t had a squire for some time and the not uncommon tendency they had toward arrogance was remarkable. He supposed the seniority they had over pages had something to do with it, but he had, over the years needed to break in a few squires in his time. It appeared, girl or no, Cora would be one of those. 

“Cora, the last squire who spoke to me in a similar tone, I tossed out the nearest window. Now, I suggest you rethink your answer.”  

Her eyes widened and she looked again at the door, before dropping her hand from where she had still clutched her face. 

“I apologize, I…going home is a hard time for me…most times.” 

“And why is that?” 

“My mother not wanting me to become a knight? My sisters who are embarrassed to be seen with me? My brother not…” 

“Understood,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. He massaged his temple as he contemplated the conundrum. 

“I’ll admit, Ei Dhan Falls was my planned destination to negotiate expanding the southern border,” he continued, meeting her eyes. He sighed, surprised at himself for caring so much that she would have been uncomfortable staying in her own home. “Other lodgings can be arranged, that’s fine.” 

“You don’t need to do that!” 

“It’s decided.” And then, because she opened her mouth again, “Don’t argue.”  

He would need to send someone ahead to get a property arranged that would be suitable for the sort of meetings he intended to have with the Barons of the Southern kingdom, Khamiir, which just bordered Ei Dhan Falls. He fingered the hairbrush still in his left hand and then looked down in some surprise. 

“Is this solid gold? And…ruby tipped bristles?”  

It was an expensive item for a squire and somehow did not fit the impression of Cora he’d already made. The brush could have paid for a small house in a suburb outside the Glen. 

“It was a gift, but it’s the only one which works on my hair; I think my aunt bought it from a wizard, honestly.” 

It was the most she’d volunteered in one moment and he looked at her curiously, before putting the brush down. 

“Why did you go to Cape Aston?” 

Her eyes widened at the question and then became shuttered again. 

“May I stand up?” She asked, rather than answer the question. 

“No, I’m still punishing you.” He countered. “And don’t change the subject.” 

The mulish expression briefly returned before she sighed and looked down at the floor. 

“I was learning dragon training…we do a lot as squires, but it’s hard to get a partner when your dragon takes it into her head to actually attack the other rider. I have…friends at the Cape with dragons more like Tamora. Plus, they have dragon armor that’s stronger than the ones we use here.” 

“I find it difficult to believe Sir Geralt would have stopped you from doing that,” he commented, raising a brow. 

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I?” She rejoined. He laughed in spite of himself, shaking his head slightly.  

“You have a smart mouth, Cora, and while it may have served you well living in the Castle, I’ll ask you to spare me.” 

“Sorry,” she replied, wincing a tad. 

“It’s fine. Whose portable code did that message I received come from?” 

“Um…I…it was my request…they didn’t know what it was for, I swear.” 

“I believe it,” he acknowledged, before leaning forward. “However, they cannot have been unaware of exactly who they were deceiving.” A few portable codes were pre-saved on the devices and as far as he was aware, the Crown Prince was still one of those. She swallowed, squirming on her knees for over a minute before a resolute expression settled on her face. 

“I will take their punishment too; I got them into this and…and…it would be dishonorable to tell tales.” 

“You’re not telling tales; you’re answering my question.” 

“Still, Your Highness, I really can’t.” She looked on the verge of tears. Perhaps she thought he would beat her. He ought to, but decided there would be time.  

“Then I will owe you a punishment, Cora. I haven’t the time right now.” He stood and she scrambled to her feet, pausing when he glanced at her. 

“Sorry…may I? Your Highness.” 

“You may.” He chuckled even though she deserved a cuff on the ear. He supposed he would meet with Bernard, their Lord of Foreign Affairs now, he was thinking, heading for the door. There was still the report of their travels to be documented for his father’s review. 

“Er…Your Highness…are you…would you…” 

“What? Don’t sputter about like that.” She shrank a little at the admonition. 

“My Access Bar? You still have it.” 

“I’m aware.” He was mildly impressed that she’d asked. 

“May I have it back?” She even reached out for it. 

“No,” he replied shortly, before adding, “I’d rather know exactly where you are until you move into my suites, squire.” He was already opening the door. 

“But I can’t leave?!” 

“My valet will find you here in a few hours, he’s organizing your rooms.” 

“But…?” 

“Where do you need to go?” 

“Tamora…she…” 

“Who is Tamora again?” They were standing in her doorway now and Theodore wondered if she meant to actually push past him. 

“My dragon, she’s…” 

“Your dragon will be fine for a few hours,” he countered, impatiently. 

“She doesn’t let anyone else groom her!” He found himself frowning but considered that she may be exaggerating. 

“Well then you should have trained her better. Don’t argue with me, go back in, and wait for my man.” She opened her mouth to speak, and he stopped her with a finger over her lips. 

“You really need to stop arguing with me, Cora. Because I may decide I do have time to punish you right now, and I can promise you it will be a significantly more unpleasant experience than the first time.” 

He took his finger away and watched expressions play across her face from objection to frustration and finally to resignation.  

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said finally. 

“Very good.” 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,…