My baby daughter is a dragon

Impossible, was the Red Prince actually Queen Clessa of Pellegrin? Lady Mera, the dragon Meraxes, looked at the petite red-haired woman like a rat looks at a snake.

For Meraxes, the situation was like standing at the edge of an abyss with broken wings and a sword at her neck. The memory of her battle with the legendary dragon slayer Helfrem, fifteen hundred years ago, came to mind. He had been a great warrior, unlike the fool Freydelhart. He had made her fear for her life for the first time, and it was precisely the Red Prince who had saved her scales, only to replace him in her nightmares. Caramin was the name humans gave him; they had named the very color carmine after his scales, though they no longer remembered.

Meraxes was one of the largest and most powerful of the lesser dragons, as she had demonstrated by holding single combat with the White Prince, but Caramin was different. Remembering the red of his eyes made her tremble and break into a cold sweat. She did not know his power, but it was not necessary; he had dominated her with his mere presence that day, and now, with both in human bodies, the feeling that it was an unbreakable will of the world itself did not disappear.

In the form of Queen Clessa, Caramin behaved like the dragon Mera knew. Anyone would say she was the tallest person in the room and inspired the same fear in humans as if she were in her draconic form. The difference was how she moved, seductively slithering, provoking both men and women whether they knew her secret or not. Her arrogance showed in her perfect smile and soft voice. She controlled the throne room with clear and direct orders, never needing to show anger or make threats; her mere presence was enough. Eri perceived her, hiding behind her mother’s legs whenever the queen approached.

“Well, now that we’re all comfortable,” the queen began, “perhaps you would like an explanation of the situation. I wouldn’t want you to think I brought you here to kill you. The incident with my vassal and your ship was unfortunate; he had orders to kill any dragon that approached, and he couldn’t disobey. I didn’t expect Artemia to send us her princess, and much less did I expect Meraxes. By the way, I’m delighted to see you again. You must write more of those books; I grew up in this body reading them and recognized they were yours by all the mentions of blood buds. They were always your favorites. But what was I saying? Oh yes, you see, we actually need dragon slayers in Pellegrin. My ambassadors were always sincere; they had no idea who I am…”

“One moment… Your Majesty?” The foolish dragon slayer who claimed to be Lady Eri’s father only opened his mouth to embarrass himself. “We are willing to believe in the goodwill of a dragon, but I would like to know why your dragon really attacked us. Eri had reasoned with him; he didn’t seem to be attacking us out of mere loyalty or obligation.”

It was a good point. Mera had heard him roar unintelligible babble while attacking the ship.

“Oh, by the divine sun, certainly, yes. I think to maintain appearances, we must use royal titles. Protocol bores me, but what can you do? And well, the rest is due to my power. I can dominate other dragons like any other prince, but I can also give an absolute order. If I ask a dragon under my control to do something, it cannot disobey. I can only give one order at a time to each dragon, but it won’t disappear until they have fulfilled it. Relax, Meraxes, I don’t remember giving you any absolute order, and now that Eri dominates you, I can’t do it. My power has many rules, but it is useful.”

Why was she telling humans the nature and limits of her power? Caramin had always been talkative but never indiscreet. In fifteen hundred years, Mera had never managed to learn what she had revealed in just a few minutes.

“As I was saying, good Jamdar has been a friend for many years, but I fear he only learns of my nature today. Young Ori is a delight, always so loyal. So much so that my power works on him… there aren’t many humans with hearts so faithful to accept dominion as a dragon does. But I digress again. I sent them to ask for help; the other princes discovered me and are trying to force me out by attacking my people. My dragons have defended the city so far, but soon they won’t be enough. I have kept Pellegrin safe from war for generations; they are no longer prepared for this battle.”

The confusion was evident on all the faces present; it made no sense. Even if it were true that Caramin had taken the queen’s place her entire life, the story didn’t fit.

“Oh, well, I suppose I must start from the beginning,” she said with a bored expression. “About eight hundred years ago, give or take a century, this town was just a bunch of huts along the river. I came here to hide from the Black Prince. Humans had never seen a dragon and lived with extreme simplicity, isolated from the elven kingdoms to the west. They worshipped me as a deity, believing my fire came from the sun and my wings caused sandstorms. I was their king once when they brought me the nearly lifeless body of an old monarch, begging me to help him. I devoured him and took his form.”

“The great Red King, Jaran the Builder,” said Jamdar, rising from the table. “He was also a dragon…”

“Well, I took his place at the end of his life, but that allowed me to create this culture. I have an appreciation for it. The royal family knows some things, like that I visited the city every few years. I hide in the largest buildings and listen to the kings and princes. Twenty years ago, the royal family was dying, victims of a treacherous attack. They begged me to save their baby. I did the only thing I could do,” her tone became less sweet, and she looked away for a moment. “I decided to let them believe I had saved her, even after they died. The man who was regent before me knew part of all this, but he believed I was their princess until I confided in him.”

The ambassador’s son, Oregdor, looked at the ground, sweating, more affected than the others. Usually, Meraxes didn’t care about such things, but the young lady Eri looked at him with pity that surpassed her fear.

“So,” Runaesthera raised her voice, “what you’re telling us is that you really expect our help to defend Pellegrin from the remaining princes. That you don’t intend to harm Eri or any of us.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” the queen’s smile widened again, “and I would like to propose much more. We could end the war between the little blue, and me. But for now, you might want to negotiate your help.”

Meraxes looked around. Each of the humans was a whirlwind of weak emotions: suspicion, distrust, resentment. Even the fool Frey was undecided. The young lady was too compassionate; she would do whatever her useless parents said.

“Caramin,” Meraxes finally said, “if you want the young lady and her humans to help you, give them proof that you are trustworthy. Give her your fire. She will rekindle it when we leave.” Everyone looked at her; they surely thought she was out of place, but none of them dared to contradict her.

“An interesting power, my dear sister,” she said, looking at Eri, “you truly will be the one to take the dragon kingdom. But this body dies quickly; without my fire, I cannot maintain it. Thank you, Meraxes, I see you still remember the basic honor of our race. My spies were not sure what the blue princess’s power was.”

The comment was accompanied by a sinister look, which undoubtedly undermined the humans’ trust in her.

“In reality,” the useless knight spoke again, “Artemia has decided to offer help unconditionally. Your hospitality and friendship will be enough for us. That is, as far as protecting people from dragons. However, we will have much to discuss about our role in the war between the princes. Eri, my daughter, is a pure soul; she desires peace between our races, but if anything puts her in danger…”

“Young Prince Frey,” the queen interrupted him, “humans believe they are different from us, but make no mistake, every dragon in this world fights to stay alive. I have brought you here in the hope of not only preventing my beloved people from burning but also stopping my brothers from ending my life. For that, I am as willing to do anything as you are to protect your loved ones. I have exposed myself and told you about my power and its limits. I will offer you my own dragons for your safety while you are here. Many of my servants hide among humans; fortunately, the fire of the lesser dragons is not visible even to princes like Eri or me. Surely you didn’t see them guarding my door or the palace of justice.”

A few days after the meeting, Freydelhart was supervising the training of a large group of soldiers. Nearly a hundred had volunteered to train as dragon slayers, although they would not be incorporated into the order as such. In the front row, the most diverse group of recruits trained: Oregdor, the ambassador’s son; Bestenar, Frey’s squire; and Eri herself. In reality, the latter two had the mission of teaching the less advanced if Frey was absent. Oregdor had begged for a place among them, and it had been granted due to the friendship they had cultivated during the journey.

After a pitiful session of a hundred repetitions of the harpy pose, which only Bestenar managed to do well, he decided to give them a break.

“Alright, you bunch of useless people!” he shouted in his most martial tone. “Rest those skinny arms, let’s see if next time you can do better than a six-year-old girl!”

“I’m almost seven, dad,” said Eri, annoyed because he always used her in his comparisons.

“You’re right, love,” Frey’s voice changed to a loving tone, and immediately returned to being martial. “Seven years old, and she’s offended by the comparison. Improve!”

Bestenar, who had finally found a reason to abandon his fine clothes and train shirtless under Pellegrin’s scorching sun, approached him.

“Prince Frey, we need to talk.”

“Speak, Bestenar. You did very well today; I wish your father could see it.”

“That’s what I want to talk about. My year of apprenticeship is almost over; only a few months remain.”

“Are you afraid of being too far from home to return? I didn’t expect you to be so anxious, but I can send you to Meyrin with Valderant if we are still here by then.”

“It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

The young squire, much sturdier than a year ago, looked away.

“It’s not enough time.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we arrived here, I realized that the world is in a much worse situation than I thought. Dragons could be anywhere, be anyone. And very few can defeat them. I don’t like you, but I need to learn. I need to take my sister’s place, not just as king, but as protector. What is expected of me, I now know, is much more than what I am. I am not ready to be king.”

Frey smiled more than he ever thought he would in the presence of the brat.

“No, son, I think in a way, you are ready.”