Treasured by the Dragon

Ch 21: Submission

Irving's companions snicker as Cephias removes his hand from the water lord's wrist. His eyes remain steady on Irving's as he unbuttons. His right hand does all the work, carefully slipping the clothes off his left shoulder. With his shirt draped down his back, the nasty wound is free for all to see.

"My, my," says the Waterheart as he circles around to view the damage. "How did you do that? Was it her?"

He flicks his gaze at me, and I remember I'm still bent over the table. With distance between us, I dare to push myself up before pulling my shift back down.

"I went out with my hunters to gather fur. The mountain's frost bears have the finest hides, but also the fiercest teeth."

Cephias's stance remains firm with his eyes on me, while Irving admires the injury as if it were a spectacle in a traveling fair.

"This is an interesting wound, though. These terrifying bears of yours appear to have jaws the size of a fist. And the bite doesn't fit with the flat of your shoulder blade. It only makes sense if it's been condensed down from a larger wound you sustained as a dragon. This would be right where your ungainly wings are, wouldn't it?"

I haven't seen Cephias's wound. It was all blood and torn tissue when he transformed on the balcony. After that, it was always bandaged. It never occurred to me to question how such an injury translates between forms.

"That's because I was wounded as a dragon. I got myself in a tight spot and needed to shift to escape."

"Was a pelt really worth such a risk?"

"When its pelt may be the sale that pushes our finances over the edge of our debt, then yes, it is."

Irving hums to himself and rubs a finger against his chin. His eyes flick over to me and I suddenly feel my muslin shift isn't enough.

My knees tentatively bend and I grab the petticoat pooled at my ankles. When he doesn't stop me, I pull it up with a snap and my trembling fingers work in haste to fasten it around my waist.

"Are we done with your inspections, Lord Irving?" Cephias doesn't wait for an answer before adjusting his shirt and buttoning it. "I admit, I acted rashly with grabbing your hand, and I apologize. You must understand my urgency in fulfilling our commitment to you. We thought we had a couple more months to work things out since that was our agreed upon deadline."

"The deadline is whenever I want it to be." Though the answer is firm, his voice is unconcerned.

Irving steps out from behind Cephias, his eyes following me the whole way.

"That said," he continues, standing between Cephias and I, "I have little interest in sticking around longer than I have to. I try to be courteous to you fire breathers, but your ramshackle hovel is an unpleasant place to spend the day."

I catch the roll of Valaria's eyes as Irving parrots her own sentiments.

"We'd also like to fulfill our obligation as soon as possible."

Cephias redresses and his posture loosens, though his arm still rests uselessly at his side.

"Then you can start by taking better care of your investment."

Irving looks my way, and I hold his gaze for a minute with a stubborn firmness to my lips. When I catch the twinkle of intrigue in his eye, I recall myself and the fragile princess I'm supposed to be playing. Though I loathe to grant him ground, I look away and cower before him.

"We didn't want a human sleeping in our beds," says Cephias. His voice unfortunately lacks the conviction needed to sell our story, probably because anger still rattles in his throat. "Still, we did our best to protect the product."