Bastards of Castle Valley

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. In fact, only a century ago, nearly everyone in Aerilind would have claimed that dragons were only myths made up for stories to entertain children. Now, it’s hard to imagine a time without dragons for those who grew up in castle valley, where they can be seen soaring above on a daily basis.

I like to watch them from the windowsill of the highest tower, as I do now. The rough, cool stone bites at my skin through the thin dress on my legs and backside. I run my fingers over the jagged texture and wonder for the thousandth time if that’s what a dragon’s skin would feel like. No, surely it wouldn’t be cold. But, would it be rough like that of certain lizards, or would it be smooth like a snake?

I’ve never been close enough to be sure, but I have seen them from across a room. The scales look rough, but then I also always expect the skins of snakes to be less smooth than they really are.

I could sit here and watch them all day, envying the lucky few who get the privilege of riding on their backs, but of course I can’t. I might try, except Vonna knows where to find me.

Indeed, I’m moving to hop down from the windowsill when she walks into the small chamber that is reserved for rituals done by the royal wizard. Her tiny chest is heaving from the effort of climbing all those stairs. Her straw colored eyebrows are knitted together, making the faint wrinkles around her eyes more prominent. “Penny! The ceremony is in a few hours and you’re up here watching dragons? The princess has been asking for a bath. The water is nearly boiling, so get your ass to the kitchens and start hauling it up. When you’re done, you may as well get back in there. They need someone arranging trays for the servers.”

Arranging trays? No, that can’t be right, I think. “Won’t I be serving?”

“No, they have enough servers. You’ll stay in the kitchens.”

“Can’t you talk to someone, Aunt Vonna? I wanted to at least serve drinks at the ceremony.”

Vonna’s face softened a bit, but not much. “I know you wanted to see it, but so did every other serving girl in the castle. They were there this morning, just waiting to claim the serving positions for themselves. If you would have been there, then maybe things would be different. Instead, you were up here, wasting time and forcing me to come find you. Now, get down to the kitchens.”

I nod and swallow down my disappointment. Vonna is a bit of a hardnose, but she is the only family I have. Being my aunt is a job she takes even more seriously than her job of being head maid. It has been her job ever since I was born, since my mother died on her birthing bed and without telling anyone who my father could be.

It’s a long way down from the tower, and I pass many people as I go. They all smile or nod, but today is a big day and no one has time to stop and chat. I don’t either, so in the kitchen I fill my first two buckets with scalding water and make my way carefully to the other stairwell, the one that leads up to Princess Josephine’s chamber. Irene, another serving girl, is coming down with two empty buckets, which have surely just been dumped into the same tub I’m headed for.

The weight of the water is all concentrated at one point: the bucket handles. They pull down on my arms and bite into the flesh of my hands, but I don’t let my steps falter. I know firsthand how it feels to slosh the freshly boiled water on my legs.

In the princess’s chamber, she is sitting at her vanity on the other side of the room, holding up different pieces of jewelry in the looking glass. Her hair is as black as a raven, with curls that no amount of brushing could ever tame. It is her mother’s hair, just as her ebony skin is her mother’s.

King Akibrus is as pale as I am, but his wife is from Talasia, where everyone has that flawless, dark skin that is so treasured in Aeriland. It is rare here, because the two kingdoms are separated by the sea, and marriages between the two don’t happen often. That only makes it even more special.

Her back is turned to me, and the angle of the looking glass is all wrong, so we can’t see each other. I’m glad, because every time she looks at me with her perfect, black eyebrows and ebony skin, all I can think of is my own lank, straw colored hair that marks me as a commoner. If I had black hair, I would be considered beautiful despite my pale skin. I might even look like the king, if I had black hair. My eyes look like his. They are the same shade of blue.

I’m pouring in my second bucket when the princess turns to me. I fight down the urge to squirm under her gaze and wonder if I’ve done anything wrong. She’s never shown any interest in me before.

She seems to be deciding something, and I’m not sure if I should say anything or not. Finally, she smiles shyly at me. Her face is too perfect, with her high cheek bones and long lashes. “Which do you think would be better for the ceremony? I can’t decide.”

I am done pouring the water now, and I throw a quick glance over my shoulder, just to make sure she isn’t talking to someone else. No, no one is in the room except the two of us.

No one in the royal family ever speaks to me except to give orders. My voice seems to be caught up somewhere in my throat region for an embarrassingly long moment before I am able to speak. “I think that one is beautiful, Princess.” I point to the necklace on the right. The chain is dripping with diamonds. At the base hangs an opal the size of a man’s thumb. “The color will stand out against your skin.”

“That’s a good point. Thank you! I should have you around all the time to help me decide on stuff like this.” She wraps the chain around her neck and clasps it together with practiced fingers.

I can’t find a good response, so I simply bow my head. “I am at your disposal for whatever need you have of me, Princess.”

I expect her to turn around, to show me that I am dismissed. Instead, she frowns for the first time since I entered the room. “You don’t have to be so formal with me. You can call me Josephine.”

Now I really don’t know what to say, so I only nod silently.

The princess looks a little sad at this, but then she blinks and gives me a halfhearted smile. “I’m sorry. I must be keeping you. By all means, if you’re busy you shouldn’t let yourself get behind on my account.”

I nod and take my leave, wondering if perhaps the princess has had a cup of wine too many for her nerves. Yes, that is it. Her mother knows she will be anxious about the ceremony and has given her wine to sooth her even though she is not used to it. Tomorrow she will remember and be horrified that she told a servant to call her by her given name.

When the bath is filled, I find ways to make myself useful in the kitchens while we wait. No one knows exactly when the ceremony will take place, but the wizard said it would be sometime today, probably when the sun begins to drop in the sky.

I have to rein in my jealousy at the princess once again. Today, another dragon egg will hatch. Today, the princess will bond with her dragon companion, the one that will stay with her for life. She will soar through the clouds on her dragon’s back when it is old enough. They will lounge in the fields together. She will hold the kind of power that only the direct descendants of Isenhar hold. The dragon will obey her and her alone.

Some people just have everything.

I am fetching bread from the ovens when Asorhin, the royal family’s wizard, bursts through the door. “Two hours, I estimate. Be ready for the ceremony in two hours.”

We all nod and go back to work with twice the vigor we had before. I busy myself with kneading some dough, slowly folding it over itself. I am not technically qualified to do this, but the bread maker is busy.

The two hours go by slowly, and by the time I am set to the task of pouring wine, I am fidgeting. I need to see that dragon hatching.

Servers slip in and out, refilling their serving bowls with sour reds and sweet whites. One of them is Hazel, a friend of mine who can usually be counted on to give in to whatever you ask of her. “Hazel! Switch places with me for a minute.”

She shakes her head. “No. The egg is almost hatched. I want to see it just as much as you.”

“I’ll be back before then.” The lie comes easily to my lips, maybe because I know she will believe it. “I have to stretch my legs for a minute. They’re cramping.”

She purses her lips, but I look at her pleadingly and her eyes soften. “Okay, but you’d better get back here quick.”

“I will!”

In the great hall, hundreds of people are gathered in a semicircle around a dark gray egg with hints of gold big enough for a child to crouch inside. Only yesterday, the egg had been light gray. Before that, it had been a pale cream with bold flecks of gold. When the change comes, it comes rapidly.

I try to avoid anyone who’s goblet is running low, because as soon as my serving bowl is empty I will have to go back into the kitchens and switch places with Hazel. Moving around the room strategically, I listen to Asorhin giving his speech about how dragons came to live among us in Aerilind, where they had been previously unheard of. He tells the story that everyone already knows: the story of Isenhar.

The wizard stresses the love of the common people for Isenhar, who was second in line for the throne after his older sister, Isarefay, who had little of that love.

Isarefay was a wicked princess and a cruel queen. Knowing that her brother was strongly preferred by so many in her kingdom, she banished him.

For years, Isenhar wandered the world with nothing except the clothes on his back. He was finally free from his sister’s abuse, and his life had never been so unconfined. Then he heard the rumors of Aerilind, where the queen had her people in a state of near starvation and constant fear of the brutal punishments that were now standard procedure for any crimes.

What was an exiled ex-prince to do?

He chose to do what no one had ever done before and travel to the heart of the great Ignis Mountains in the lost lands of Taznia. It was there that the old stories, the ones that everyone said were made up, took place. He brought only one traveling companion, a wizard of no renown.

After a long and treacherous journey that had never been properly documented, Isenhar did the impossible. He returned to Aerilind with not only a dragon, but a dragon that was bound to be his companion for life. With this new power, he overthrew his sister from the throne and began a new era, an era of peace and dragons.

He and his dragon ruled for many years, but the magic between them went even further than a lifelong companionship. Every single time a child is born of Isenhar’s decent, a dragon lays an egg. No mating pair is required. The incubation period for dragon’s eggs is roughly fifteen years. With the hatching of each egg, a new dragon is bound to the newest member of the royal family.

To this day, no one knows how he did it. Others have tried, and their failures have only confirmed that the wizard Isenhar chose had a unique talent in black magic. No one says it outloud, though. Even now, Asorhin skims over that part, instead focusing on Isenhar’s strength of character and determination to save his kingdom.

Beside the wizard, Princess Josephine sits calmly and confidently, her eyes on the egg.

Asorhin has timed his speech perfectly. As he finishes, the egg begins to darken once again. This time, black blossoms in random patterns until the entire thing is even darker than Princess Josephine’s hair.

I realize that I am holding my breath, watching the egg being burned from the inside out. The shell has been tough as stone for fifteen years, and for days the baby dragon inside has been periodically weakening it with fire of unnatural heat until finally it is weak and brittle.

The egg is completely black now, although the shades differ slightly, and there is a soft hissing and screeching noise coming from that side of the room. Everyone has stopped breathing now, not just me. I can’t remove my eyes from the egg as the first cracks appear, and a small fragment of shell bursts from its whole. Flames come shooting out of it, even though it’s barely big enough to fit a hand through. When the dragon realizes that flames will only get it so far, it slams a horn into a section not far from the hole. Slowly, the shell breaks away until enough of it is gone for a dark, leathery wing and a scaly arm to squeeze through. Realizing that no more of its body can fit infuriates the dragon, and it slams its head into the shell. This causes the hole to double in size, and finally it wriggles out.

The scales are dark, almost black, but with a violet tint to them that would not be noticeable if not for the bright light filtering in through the high windows. Its head is all sleek spikes and horns, every one curved so that the point faces the back end of its body. The teeth are already long and sharp. All in all, it is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.

The princess is moving towards it now, and I see her composure breaking for the first time in my whole life. Her hands shake with excitement, although the rest of her remains as calm as ever.

The dragon has been thrashing around, trying to get the remainder of the shell away from itself. Now it stops dead to stare at the approaching young woman. Everyone in the room is anticipating that moment, the moment when the dragon will climb up her leg or arm and claim her as its companion for life. She reaches out with a trembling hand, and sharp teeth snap shut only an inch away from her fingers.

A collective gasp can be heard from every corner of the room, even a few mutters. The princess has drawn her hand back and retreated a few steps. Even over the muttering, we can all hear the dragon hissing. We all know who it is hissing at. There is not a single face in the entire hall that does not have confusion written all over it.

I have somehow moved to the front of the crowd, although I distinctly remember stopping to watch towards the back. Josephine’s eyes train on me before the dragon’s does. I can feel her eyes on me as I watch the creature scramble forward, and I am faintly aware of my serving tray clattering to the floor. The wine that spatters my legs does not even register. A baby dragon, possibly feral based on how it treated its own companion, is coming at me at an alarming rate. I know I should run, but my feet are glued to the floor. All I can do is prepare myself for the dragonfire that is surely about to wash over me.

It doesn’t come.

The claws that cling to my thin dress are not nearly as sharp as I imagined they would be, but nevertheless I can feel the scratches forming already. My dress isn’t made that well, and it is ripping in spots where the dragon scrambles up. It is lighter than I imagined, considering its size. Before I can think of what to do, there is a baby dragon perched on my shoulders.

Two hundred sixty three people are in the great hall, and not one of them can think of anything to say. They are all staring at me, including the dragon. I have to twist my head around to look back at it. Its eyes are a vivid green that makes the vertically slit pupils stand out dramatically. I can finally see the heavily textured scales up close. I want so badly to touch them, and surely this will be my final chance. Any moment now, someone will come and take the dragon away to give it back to the princess.

It leans into my touch, and the scales are extremely bumpy, but each bump is smooth as glass. Heat transfers quickly to my fingers, warming them better than even a fire could have done. Small, clawed feet are gripping my body gently, and one wing is slightly wrapped around my shoulders in an embrace warmer than any I had ever received from another human. Those green eyes are still looking at me, seeming to say I am yours, and you are mine.

I don’t speak, but in my head I respond. Yes. You are exactly what I have been waiting for my whole life. Never before have I shared a look with another person exchanging so much understanding and affection as I do now with this dragon.

The first person to speak is King Akibrus. He informs everyone in a would-be calm voice that the ceremony is canceled. Everyone is to go home immediately. His face is pinker than usual, and next to him Queen Kaokanae is made of stone. She has not twitched a single muscle since the dragon hissed at her daughter. Akibrus calls Asorhin to him and whispers something in his ear. I want to know what he is saying so badly. I want to know why the dragon chose me, but another part of me doesn’t want to question that part. I’ll never look this gift horse in the mouth if I can just keep it.

Although Asorhin has not a single gray hair on his blonde head, he looks about a thousand years old when he comes my way. His arm goes genially around Josephine’s shoulders and he leads her to me as well.

“I think you should both go to your chambers while the King and Queen discuss this turn of events. I’ll take that dragon, Miss . . . ?”

It takes me a moment to realize he is asking my name. “Penny.”

His smile looks almost painful. “Penny. What a, uh, nice name. Well, Penny, I’ll keep that dragon nice and safe for you.”

“Can’t it stay with me?”

His lips form a thin line. “Well, your chambers aren’t really suitable to keep a dragon. Perhaps you will be moved to new chambers in good time, but it all needs to be discussed first. I’ll take the dragon for now.”

Every fiber of my being is screaming at me not to give in, that giving this man my dragon is the worst possible thing I could do. I can’t say the words, though. Nothing in my life has prepared me for saying no to the royal wizard, of all people. I might as well say no to the King.

There is no way to ignore the aching throb in my chest as I attempt to transfer my dragon to Asorhin’s arms, but I try. The whole thing goes over badly, with Asorhin’s blonde beard singed and his robes slashed to pieces. In the end, a large crate is brought in.

I almost can’t do it, but what choice do I have? Only the fact that I cannot cry in front of the royal family keeps my tears at bay. Everything about this feels wrong, so incredibly wrong.

When it is done, I am unceremoniously reminded to go to my chambers. Josephine is headed in the same direction, and I am more than a little surprised when she walks with me. Of course, I think. She will want to put me in my place. I just ruined the most important day of her life.

We are in an empty corridor before she stops me with a touch to my arm. A smile is on her lips, and I wonder if she is smiling because she is about to hit me. I have never seen her be violent, but the events that just happened seem more than enough to make anyone violent.

“I always knew you were special,” she says.

I can only stare at her. “Special?”

“Of course. You’re King Akribus’s baseborn daughter.” There is not a trace of anger in her voice or on her face. “I don’t know what that makes you to me. Not related, I don’t think.”

How could I be so stupid? What other reason would that dragon have for choosing me as a companion? “But wouldn’t that make us sisters?”

Josephine laughs. She sounds genuinely amused. “No, isn’t it obvious? Only one dragon was born, and it was for you. I am not a descendent of Isenhar.”

It takes a minute for me to comprehend this, because my brain feels like it has been dunked repeatedly in some sort of viscous liquid. One of us here is definitely smarter than the other, and it isn’t me. I wonder how long it took Josephine to come to this realization. Judging by the complete acceptance in her voice, she probably realized it in the same moment my dragon hissed at her. “I’m so sorry. You must hate me more than anything!” I have to force down tears once again, because at this moment anything can bring on a fit of hysteria. That image of my dragon mewing as I turned away from it is too fresh in my mind, and all I want to do is grieve.

The princess’s hand is holding mine now, and I didn’t even see how it came to be. “I don’t hate you.” She sees the disbelief in my eyes and smiles. “Can you keep a secret?”

I nod.

“The truth is, I’ve never been more relieved. I am terrified of dragons. I always have been. Now that dragon will have a worthy companion, one that will truly appreciate it.”

“But, you won’t be able to be Queen now.”

“I know. That’s an even bigger relief. This morning I had my whole life planned for me. Now there are a million paths I could take, and it’s all due to the miracle of me being a bastard.”

I can’t decide if she is being sincere or not, and even if I could decide, I still wouldn’t know what to say to that.

She squeezes my hand one more time before letting go. “You have a lot to think about. Don’t worry too much about it. I’m sure you will get your dragon back tomorrow.”

I watch her go, still feeling numb and amazed at the events that have taken place today. I need to move my feet, but they are stone. I need to know for sure what will happen with my dragon.

What I’m about to do is reckless, but I can’t stop myself. I know, as well as everyone else does in the castle, that the King and Queen always go to the throne room to argue. That suits me just fine, because the throne room is on the ground floor with large windows that are always unshuttered when the weather permits. Most of the time, the King and Queen can easily be heard by anyone who happens to be lurking in the shrubs next to those windows.

I am rewarded almost immediately by a string of profanity from King Akibrus—my father? The thought sends my head spinning again, so I cast it away. One crisis at a time.

“We have two bastards and no heir.” The Queen’s voice is strong and carries hints of a thousand different emotions.“The next step is obvious. We need an heir.”

A snort answers her. “How would I even know the next one is mine?”

“Don’t act so superior. Your bastard was conceived while we were married. We are both at fault here.”

“I didn’t even know about mine! You paraded yours around as a princess for fifteen years!”

“I didn’t know she wasn’t yours! It only happened once. It was in the first days of our marriage, before I even knew you. It was before we fell in love.”

“How can you talk about love now?” The King’s words are almost shrill.

“I can talk about it because I believe in it.”

It goes on like that for a while. Declarations of undying love, arguing, proclamations of disbelief, and justifications. I think it likely that my dragon and I will never be brought up in this conversation, when the voices abruptly break.

There must have been a knock, because there is a creak that always accompanies any movement of the throne room door, and then I hear Asorhin’s voice. “Your Grace, I apologize, but it is urgent. I have only just been informed. The dragon—it has been stolen. And the—the princess. She has been taken as well.”

The uproar that follows proves two things. The first is that, although I am the true daughter of King Akibrus, Josephine is the only daughter he cares about. He does not ask about me, or show any signs of distress over the circumstances of my dragon. Instead, he speaks only of Josephine. I wouldn’t have imagined that would bother me, but all of my insides drop at the realization that he doesn’t care.

The conversation ends with the King commanding Asorhin to fetch Sir Merick Shadeler. In the time they spend waiting on the knight, the Queen can be heard sobbing, and the King’s voice is all reassurance now. He says over and over, in the softest tones he has ever used, that they will get Josephine back. My dragon is still not mentioned, nor am I.

Sir Merrick scares me a little. He always has, and I am not the only one. When he enters a room, people move out of his way. Even standing a head and a half taller than anyone I have ever seen, he is known more for the robustness of his chest and the girth of his arms than for his height. Even the man’s legs are legendary, often compared to tree trunks.

Even with his impressive size, Sir Merrick is not a ladies man. He has never been called handsome. The best thing anyone can say for his face is that he is not disfigured. He is the King’s fiercest warrior, and he looks the part. The thing about Sir Merrick is, if his looks don’t scare you, his reputation will.

Sir Merrick is the one the King sends to find his daughter.

“I will be sending a larger party, of course. You will ride separately. Track down these thieves and get my daughter back. They will be focused on the bigger threat.” The King wastes no time, and sends the knight away immediately.

I go too then. I know everything I came to find out. I am running around a corner to get back to my chambers when I nearly flatten my Aunt Vonna.

“Penny! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?”

I can feel my lips tremble, but no words will come out.

She pulls me into a hug. “Yes, I know. By the time I heard, you were nowhere to be found. I’m so sorry. I tried everything I could to protect you.

What? I pull back, looking into those crinkled eyes warily. “What do you mean you tried to protect me?”

She sighs. “I tried to make sure you weren’t at that ceremony. I should have worked harder to keep you away. This is all my fault.”

“You knew!”

She mistakes my tone for shock. “Of course, I knew. And now the Queen knows. Come, let’s go somewhere private to talk.”

Blood is pounding so loudly in my ears that I am not even sure what she said. She is trying to tug on my hand, but I break away. I don’t even catch the expression on her face before I turn to run.

In my chambers, I change into my only pair of breeches. A highborn boy threw them out years ago, and now they finally fit me. The tunic is very loose, but that doesn’t matter. I want to bring more, but nothing else I have will be useful. Besides, I can’t waste time if I want to catch up to Sir Merrick.

No one else is going to save my dragon. What do they care if a baseborn servant girl loses her companion? If I am ever going to look into those green eyes again, it is up to me. I will save my own dragon and the princess too, I suppose.