Xyra’s belly was filled with wine. She hadn’t wanted to drink as much as she did, but putting the bottle down made Zevin angry. So she continued, until nary a drop of the sweet stuff was left.

It made her feel terrible. The carriage ride was once smooth, but now she was keenly aware of moving, and the wine threatened to come up again at any moment.

Zevin laughed. “Is everything fine, Lynette? You seem…out of it.”

Xyra spoke. What came out weren’t words. Rather, they were words, but they all jumbled together into something that she couldn’t understand herself. She couldn’t understand much of anything at that moment. Zevin, no more than a few feet across from her, was purple and yellow in the shape of a man. And there were two of him.

One of them grasped her chin. Slowly, he turned her head from one flushed side to the other. “Hmm. I think you’re properly drunk now. But, to be sure…”

His hand released her. A moment later, her cheek stung.

Zevin watched her. After a few moments of Xyra blinking in confusion, he threw his hands up. “Thank the goddess! I thought you would never shut up.”

He switched from his side of the carriage to hers and left little room for air between them. The movement whisked his scent into her nose, but by now she had grown use to it. She was more worried about why he was so close, why his hand pressed into her belly so forcefully, why he took her chin and forced her to face him.

Too…close! She could smell the wine on his breath and feel the heat of it. Now he was so close that she had no choice but to stare into his eyes. Her grip on the bottle tightened.

His lips parted. “You truly are a marvelous little bitch to behold. Volsten has done well to hide you, but it is my turn to take pleasure in you.”

She gasped as his hand seized her breast. Her hand fumbled about on top of his, desperate to pull it away, but to no avail. He was squeezing her to the point of pain.

Something terrible was happening. Xyra knew as much, but her world was a confusing place. Things were moving that shouldn’t. Her body didn’t listen, except to the touch of this man she barely knew. He had to feel it. To feel her heart pounding near the breast his unwanted hand gripped.

He tilted her head upward and lowered his. Their lips met. The bottle shattered under her grip.

He pulled back. “What are you doing? That bottle-how in the-“

A firm knock sounded on the carriage door. Zevin gave her lips a moment of recovery from his roughness to shout away the noise.

The knock came again.

This time he leaned forward, leaving Xyra to stare at nothing.

She could hear the door swing open, and the surprised gasp of Zevin.

“Tallows!” a familiar voice said. A voice she loved.

Xyra managed to bring her head around. The shape was of a woman in white. She could not make out the face.

Focus. She brought forward her mind and focused on the face. The face.

Miss…Vora? Her tail twitched.

“Why, whatever are you doing with my little servant Lynette, Sir Tallows?” she asked.

Zevin ran a hand through his black hair. “We are getting well acquainted, my lady, which I assure you she enjoys a great deal. And may I say that you look as stunning as ever?”

Miss Vora giggled. “Of course. What woman wouldn’t love to be held in the grips of such a prestigious man?”

“My thoughts exactly!” Zevin agreed. “I’ll have you know that I meant to see you, but you were not home. As such, I thought to entertain myself with her.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, yes, my lady! This carriage is meant for a woman of class and intelligence, not some servant. If you are jealous of her, that is not my intent!”

“Jealous?” Miss Vora took a step back.

“O-oh I didn’t mean it!” Zevin said. He looked as if he would jump out of the carriage after her. “Jealous! Ha! I am a fool sometimes! There is no woman in the world that possesses your beauty, Lady Vora. Not here, or Khebia, or Hinomotu. Not in the west, nor in the cities that line the Garian coast. Nowhere, my lady. You are a jewel unseen in all the world, save for where you are right now.”

Miss Vora took a step forward. “How kind. I don’t mean to impose on what I’m sure is a dream come true for her, but I am in urgent need of my Lynette’s talents.”

Zevin looked towards Xyra, his eyes flashing. “May I offer a counter?”

“Hmm. A counter? I don’t remember offering anything, but I suppose I can hear you out.”

“Y-yes. Why don’t you join us?”

Miss Vora was silent.

“Imagine,” Zevin went on, “the two of us, beautiful nobility, being attended to by such a surprisingly beautiful servant. It would be like a scene from an erotic tale. It would be artistry.”

Xyra shifted in her seat. She had meant for a better view, but instead fell sideways onto crunchy glass. Her wing hurt, but that didn’t matter now. “MissVora, canwegohome?”

“Goodness!” Miss Vora moved forward until she was leaning into the carriage. “You got the poor woman drunk! That certainly hurts my plans.”

“Hasenfell. I warned her that it was too rich for a woman of her upbringing, but servants can be very stubborn at times.”

“Indeed. Come on, Lynette. We’ve much to do.”

Xyra pushed herself up. If it wasn’t for Miss Vora’s steadying hand, she would have fallen flat on her face as she stepped down from the carriage. She stumbled still, but Miss Vora caught her in an embrace.

“My offer stands, my lady.”

“I’m afraid I’m far too busy. Take care, Sir Tallows.”

Xyra did all she could to not throw up as she was pulled through the streets of Honor.

*

It was yesterday that Miss Vora pulled her away from Zevin. Miss Vora had given her to Yarla to bathe and feed, and that she did, though Xyra had remembrance of a few…accidents in the bath. Then she slept. By the time she woke, the sun was at its highest, and her head was close to exploding. Yarla took care of that as well, but the remedy was so bitter that Xyra almost preferred the headache.

Miss Vora was absent throughout. No practicing of magic. No hands to caress her during the bath. It was as if Miss Vora vanished. And, with her needing to teach the princess before Xyra could even wake, this was the first she’d seen of her since being passed along.

Miss Vora took a sip of wine from her glass, then let it hang over the arm of her chair. She was leaned back on it, one leg atop the other. To the others in her study, she said nothing, and regarded them with a cold stare.

This was how she looked when she relaxed, Xyra knew, but this was different. She was anything but. Her eyes smoldered with the light of the fireplace, its flame intensifying and relenting with the motion of her wagging foot. Her silence was no different than that of an approaching storm.

“Heron,” she said after another take of wine, “have you gone mad?”

Heron adjusted his helmet. “No, my lady.”

“Then explain yourself. That’s why I called you here, after all. To explain.”

Xyra’s hands fidgeted together. Miss Vora didn’t address her yet, but she had been called just the same as Heron. Whether she was in trouble or not wasn’t a question as she stood next to Heron, wilting under Miss Vora’s eyes.

“You speak of Zevin, my lady?”

Miss Vora raised her glass with a slight nod.

“Yes. He asked for Lady Xyra, so I brought her to him. I see now that is was unwise-“

“You know my opinion of him. You are aware of his reputation. Why, then, did you see fit to give her to him?”

“I am sorry, mistress, but your words were only that he wasn’t allowed to step foot into the courtyard. I didn’t think you meant he wasn’t allowed to…to see one anyone within.”

“But, Heron, I need you to think for a moment.” Miss Vora’s voice was soft. Xyra didn’t like it. “If Xyra was your daughter, would you have so thoughtlessly given her away, knowing what we both know?”

The fire crackled a great deal in Heron’s silence. It was so long that Xyra thought Miss Vora’s words were a secret spell that took his ability to speak.

His swallow was loud, then he said, “No. I don’t think I would.”

Miss Vora sighed. “Of course you wouldn’t. You are dismissed.”

Heron bowed low, first to Miss Vora, and then to Xyra, before leaving the study.

Xyra was alone. She looked back from the door to see Miss Vora’s eyes focused. Angry. Xyra couldn’t possibly hold her gaze. She distracted herself with the fire, bookshelves, scattered papers. Anything would do. She just couldn’t look at that woman.

“I honestly don’t know,” Miss Vora said. She uncrossed her leg, planting it firmly on the floor. “Are you stupid? I think you’re an absolute idiot. I refuse to believe that you’re this naïve.”

Xyra stared at the floor.

“Dragons are intelligent, beautiful creatures. That’s what any of us with even a surface level understanding of your people believe. But in the face of evidence, the former might be wishful thinking!”

“I’m not stupid…” Xyra whispered.

“What?”

“I…I said I’m not stupid.” Xyra was surprised at the flare of indignance.

“Then you don’t care about what I say at all, do you?” Miss Vora’s painted toes came into Xyra’s view, barely peeking from beneath her green gown. “I tell you, in indirect terms, to let Zevin know he can piss off, and what do I find? You, in his carriage, near the precipice of unconsciousness. If you aren’t stupid, then what should I think?”

“He…he tried to help me. I thought that he wanted to talk. I thought we were friends!” Tears welled and overflowed, wetting the study’s wooden floor.

“By the goddess,” Miss Vora shouted,“you are stupid! The man is as easy to read as they come, his intentions written on his face for all to see! How could you possibly believe he would do anything other than what he did?” Her toes disappeared as she stepped away. “It’s clear what I must do. Bring me the ring.”

Xyra chanced a look at her mistress. She stood with the wine glass between two fingers, one arm crossed beneath her chest, her hip poked to the side. “Why?”

“You can’t be trusted to make reasonable decisions. There’s little sense in letting you leave this manor.”

“Miss Vora, please!” She took a step forward. “I won’t go with him again! I promise!”

“Now, Xyra.”

She did as Miss Vora demanded. Tears falling, she ran through the halls, up the steps, and into her room. The little box that contained the ring was no match for her fury. She lifted the lid and bent it until the hinges cried and gave way to her strength.

“Oh no…” she whispered as she stared at the broken box. Why had she done this? It was such a pretty box, with lines that came together to make centaurs at rest. She placed the lid back in its place, but the damage was done.

She made her way back to the study. Her fury subdued, it was hard to walk. Each step was towards a future she didn’t want to face. For a time, she had been happy. Her longing for home was strong, and she was sure that it would always be so, but there were times where Miss Vora and the others made her feel at home. She enjoyed the strangeness of the human city, with its colorful ground stones. The odd smells that came from the market when she visited. The way people simply walked beside her, with no care that she was a princess.

It was nice.

Miss Vora would take that away and keep her locked inside like a pet. Something she promised Xyra she wasn’t, nor would ever be. Her fury renewed with her entrance.

The mistress hadn’t moved an inch. Her free hand extended, palm open, as Xyra approached.

Xyra looked down at the golden ring. The thought of giving it away made her chest tighten. She looked at it once more, before an unsteady hand dropped it into Miss Vora’s waiting grasp.

“You are dismissed,” she said.

Dismissed. The word was cold and washed over Xyra like a dip into a stream too late at night. She said it to Kita when she was unhappy with her, and to Netti and Igna when they talked too much about their food. Never to her.

Warmth bloomed in her throat. Miss Vora had dismissed her, but she stood in place, taking quick, deep gulps of air. “I’m not a pet!”

Miss Vora didn’t even look at her. She had turned to walk back to her seat.

Xyra’s hand darted towards her arm and took hold.

Miss Vora gasped. “What are you doing, Xyra? Let go of me!”

She pulled Miss Vora back until she faced her. Humans weighed so little, as if they were the most fragile things in the world.

Miss Vora looked down on her. “Your grip sort of hurts, you know!”

Their eyes met. Miss Vora’s brow raised. Her arm-the one that Xyra didn’t hold-was still occupied by her glass. She looked more offended than anything.

But staring into those green eyes made anger seem foolish. The heat bubbling in her throat was doused by sadness and longing.

She threw herself into Miss Vora and wrapped her in a tight embrace. “I want to go home!” she cried. She grabbed two fistfuls of Miss Vora’s gown, and though she tried to calm herself, the tears were far too powerful.

Miss Vora’s arms touched gently on her neck and head. “Oh…oh no, dear. Please stop this. Please.”

“I didn’t mean to!” she shouted between sobs. “I didn’t know, Miss Vora…”

“You didn’t, dear.” Miss Vora’s voice was like a calm wind, whispering in her ear with the lightest touch. “I…I just…I’m sorry, Xyra. Please stop, dear. It wasn’t your fault.”

The softness of Miss Vora’s voice made her cry all the harder. “I know you don’t like me anymore, but let me keep your ring. Please!”

“Of course,” Miss Vora’s lips were soft on her forehead. “I didn’t mean any of it. Please, don’t cry so much…”

She looked up at Miss Vora, sniffing in futility at the drip from her nose. “Th-“

Miss Vora placed a finger on her lips to hush her. “I love you, Xyra. Don’t ever think that I don’t. You had me terrified, is all.”

“Why?” Xyra muffled.

“You know the feeling of loving someone? It hurts to think of them being hurt. So when they put themselves into harm’s way…well, you get angry with them for trying to hurt themselves, and by extension, you. Irrational, yes, but love often is.”

Xyra’s heart skipped as she thought of Magenia. She was often angry with her for the scrapes and bruises she collected on her forays from the high cave. But, even if angry, it was still love. “I love you too, Miss Vora.”

Miss Vora made a strange sound with her nose before stepping to a nearby bookshelf. “Heron has been with us since I was born. 26 years of service to my family.” Her fingers traced along the shelf before they stopped on a certain book. “Before Volsten was here, even. He’s like a brother to me. When I heard what happened, I almost stripped him of his position on the spot. I was between seeing red in anger and panic at what was happening to you. I could have killed someone.”

“No, Miss Vora!” Xyra followed behind her. “Please don’t. I like Heron a lot.”

She laughed. “Trust, I won’t. He’s great as far as men go, but everyone has flaws. Ah!” She pulled a book from its home and studied the cover. Xyra couldn’t make out what was on its front. “But to speak of men, I’ve had a stroke of genius. Well, I’ve had this thought for a while, but I’ve revised how it should go. Do you want to hear it, dear?”

“Of course, Miss Vora!” Xyra said. She would always listen to whatever Miss Vora had to say.

“To be blunt, Xyra, I’m a nasty, nasty woman at times. I want revenge on Zevin.”

“Revenge?” Xyra didn’t like the sound of it. “I don’t wany any trouble, Miss Vora.”

“Oh it’ll be fun!” Miss Vora pleaded. “Besides, you’re not the only one that bastard has forced himself on. Many of those other women were not so lucky as you, to be stolen away before he could do his ultimate deed.”

“But…what will we do?”

“Talk, among other things. Don’t worry; I won’t kill him.”

“Will you hurt him?”

“Not cripplingly so, no.”

“Miss Vora!”

She smiled a beautiful smile, and Xyra would have as well if she wasn’t upset with Miss Vora.

“Promise you won’t hurt him!” Xyra said.

“No,” she answered flatly. “I’ll try not to, but you have things to learn about the world. Sometimes a good show of force is needed.”

“O…ok. But I won’t hurt him!”

“I would never ask you to, dear. Now, get over here.” Miss Vora plopped down in her chair and showed the book cover to Xyra. It was in the shape of a dragon. “I notice that you always look at these, but you never ask me to read them. Why is that?”

Xyra was unsure of that herself, but she was glad of Miss Vora’s offering. She sat at her mistress’s feet, eager to hear what the book had to say about her people.

Miss Vora offered her wine glass to Xyra. When Xyra refused, she sat it on the floor. “The Beautiful Anatomy of a Mysterious Species, by none other than the late Clarissa Chamiret. A classic if I do say so myself.”