Dragon Born

Chapter 4

The house was suspiciously quiet this morning. When I left my room and walked down the hallway for the stairs, I found out why: each of the princes' bedrooms were left open, making it blatantly clear that they were no longer here. They must have left at first light.

A small disappointed pang twisted in my stomach. I had hoped to at least say goodbye to Prince Quinnton.

Rose made an assortment of dishes, seemingly expecting three hungry men as well as me; she frowned when only I came down the stairs. "Those handsome buggers left before breakfast? That's not fair."

"They're way too young for you," I scorned. She was twenty years older than them.

She pushed a plate of food eagerly in front of me. I hope she didn't expect me to eat the princes' portions too. "Not prince Liam. I saw the way he looked at me."

Tucking my dark red curls behind my ears, I dug into the plate of potatoes, bacon, and eggs. "I think he was just being polite," I murmured.

She sat and watched me eat, having already eaten her breakfast earlier. She always did. It used to make me feel uncomfortable and even a little rude, but she had brushed it off so many times, I'd learned to just enjoy the company. It beat eating alone.

"How does your arm feel?" she asked. "I see you've taken liberties with the bandages already."

Ignoring her stern healer voice, I pulled my sleeve up to show her it was all healed. Not a single blemish was left behind. "You're the best healer in Wala, Rose."

Rolling her eyes, she took my empty plate. "And you're the most stubborn woman on the east coast."

"Only the east coast?" I teased.

She snubbed her nose up at me, turning to face the sink, and began washing the dishes. "I don't know what the women in the west are like. It would not be fair to compare you to women I don't know anything about."

"Then I take back what I said. You're the best healer on the east coast." I stood up and grabbed my bag of supplies. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." I left before I could hear any remarks she had rearing to go.

It was another sunny day, hotter than yesterday. Rose's stone house had kept the air cool, but now outside, under the blazing sun, I felt the humidity cling to my skin like a second layer. I took my leather jacket off, hanging it over Chester's withers as we went down the street for the closest farm. It still wasn't enough, so I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows and pulled my hair back into a braid.

It was still early morning, the streets teeming with people before it got too hot. I passed a group of women who were dressed far too well to have come from a farm family and must be here to visit the only winery on the coast; they glanced at me in passing and giggled.

Yeah, yeah. Laugh at the woman in trousers. I chose practicality over fashion. Getting on my knees in a pig's pen in a skirt wasn't exactly the most ideal in my line of work; it was much easier to manoeuvre in pants.

I arrived at the Armis farm, knocking on the front door. Mister Armis opened it immediately, relief filling his portly features as soon as he saw me. "Lyla! You came!"

"Of course I did. I'm only sorry it couldn't be sooner. What seems to be the trouble this time?"

Mister Armis was a regular client, and the letter I received from him the other day sounded rather urgent.

He dabbed the sweat working on his bald head with his handkerchief. "They're dying, Lyla. My sheep are dying."

This wasn't the first time he had proclaimed his flock was in dire need of attention, but the worry in his eyes gave me pause for the briefest moment, before I steeled my resolve. "Let's go have a look at them, then."