I am Ren Drakemore, age 8, the 2nd Prince of the Kingdom of Arcadia, and I am building my power and influence so that one day I may become King of this land.

  Let me get this straight,” Lord Griswald sighs, rubbing his temples with thumb and forefinger.

  “You just happened to run into this kobold on the road to Ashford.” He gestures across the dining table toward Jade, who’s perched atop two pillows on her chair to boost her high enough to see over the table. The way the chair dwarfs her, she almost resembles an oversized version of the stuffed animals often given to children—if such toys were ever made in the shape of kobolds. I wouldn’t know; the cuddliest thing Willow ever gave me was that giant spider.

  “Yes,” I lie confidently.

  Lady Willow sits to my left and Jade to my right. The three of us are seated at the end of Griswald’s grand dining table, with Griswald himself at the head. Silfy and Diana sit across from us, both looking just as unbelieving as their master sounds.

  “And this kobold just so happens to speak Common?” Griswald adds, removing his hand from his temples and leveling a skeptical look at Jade, who cowers slightly under his gaze.

  “Correct.”

  “Where did you learn Common, little one?” Silfy asks, her voice weak. She looks pale—tired, even more so than usual.

  Jade flinches, clearly bothered more by the term little one than Griswald’s stare. She shoots Silfy a sharp glare, and her tail swishes rapidly from side to side, before answering curtly, “My Queen, the great dragon Tiamat, required me to study Common.”

  “And she brought you to this dragon?” Griswald asks, his disbelief mounting.

  “Right.”

  “And this dragon has been secretly living in a cave within my domain?”

  “We were here first! Hundreds of years before you!” Jade corrects excitedly. It's clear, however, that she is merely trying to be helpful, rather than trying to start an ownership dispute.

  Griswald mouths the words silently. “For hundreds of years,” he repeats, incredulous.

  “And you managed to… convince this dragon to exclusively sell us mithril?”

  “That’s right,” I say, beaming. Griswald may be shocked, but I doubt he’ll be upset.

  He slumps forward, resting his head in one hand, elbow propped on the table as he tries to process the absurdity of it all.

  “And… kobold—”

  “Her name is Jade,” I interrupt calmly.

  Griswald sighs. “My apologies, Jade. How much are you asking for a pound of mithril?”

  Jade clears her throat and sits up straighter, clearly reciting a well-practiced demand. “We require twenty silver coins for each one-pound ingot of refined mithril.” She raises three fingers on one hand and two on the other for a total of five, emphasizing the number. “However, we only accept payment in gold coins, so purchases must be made in sets of five ingots.”

  Griswald blinks at her, gears clearly turning in his head. After a pause, he turns to Diana.

  “Diana, is that a good deal?”

  “Yes,” she replies flatly, though it is clear she is holding something back. She scribbles a note in her ledger, then slides it across the table to him.

  Griswald reads the note then mutters, “Quite good… Apparently…” He continued to consider the paper for a few more moments, rubbing his fingers through his beard, before then looking back up. “Too good to be true usually means there’s a catch. What’s yours?” he asked bluntly.

  “There are a few requirements behind the favorable price,” I admit. “But I’m confident you’ll find them agreeable.”

  Griswald shakes his head, muttering. “Boy, I’m still struggling to believe any of this—that you met a dragon and not only lived, but somehow convinced it to command its tribe of kobolds to sell us refined mithril… at an insanely favorable price.” He tosses the ledger back onto the table and leans back in his chair with a sigh. “But sure—lay it on me, boy.”

  “Tiamat wants your protection. She does not want any humans approaching her cave and insists that Jade handle all future exchanges,” I explain.

  “…What else?”

  “She’s placed Jade under my care and requested that a teacher be assigned to tutor her in magic.”

  “She’s a mage?” Griswald asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, I am a mage,” Jade replies proudly, puffing up her chest.

  “She has a lot of natural talent. She just lacks the training to make proper use of it.”

  Jade beams at me, clearly pleased by the compliment.

  What I don’t say is that I plan to train her. Griswald doesn’t know, and shouldn’t know, the full extent of my magical skill. If he found out that I was already capable of teaching others at my age, it would be either unbelievable or would raise questions I’d rather not answer. Better to let him believe I’ll be recruiting tutors on her behalf. That cover also conveniently explains why she’ll be spending time with Shadow, no one would question his qualifications as an instructor.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The irony.

  “That latter requirement is simple enough,” Griswald says. “I imagine Jade won’t be hard to care for, and finding tutors should be easy.” He gestures toward Silfy. “If you need a teacher, Silfy is skilled in elemental magic. Daphne is a talented healer, and Diana knows appraisal and minor enchantments.”

  “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Griswald sighs, and his tone darkens. “That first requirement, though… is going to be a lot harder than you make it sound.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask, confused.

  Jade perks up at Griswald’s words. Her fiery red eye sharpens and focuses independently of her curious green one.

  “If, and when, word gets out that there’s a dragon living in that cave, you’ll draw the attention of all sorts of unsavory characters. People who’ll want to get at her.”

  “Meaning what? Explain yourself,” growls a deep, resonant voice that visibly startles all but Willow and Lord Griswald.

  It comes from Jade’s mouth, but it’s clearly not her voice. Her red eye flares bright, but the rest of her looks just as startled by the sound as the rest of us were.

  “This dragon had a hoard, right? Well, some people are greedy enough to rival even a dragon. Desperate enough to try and take it.”

  A low, angry rumble wells up from deep within Jade. She clutches her throat, clearly confused and alarmed, her green eye darting around like she’s trapped in her own body.

  Griswald eyes her calmly. “Tiamat, I presume,” he states evenly, showing no sign of concern or alarm.

  Another low rumble emanates from Jade’s throat.

  Griswald nodded in understanding, then leaned forward into the table, looking directly into the eye that was not Jade’s. “I want to assure you, we will not let that happen. But I’ll need to build fortifications, place defensive wards, and assign a sizable force to secure the area around your dwelling.”

  The growling ceases, and the red eye softens slightly.

  “We can afford that, right?” Griswald asks, glancing towards Diana for confirmation.

  She’s still scribbling furiously, her quill moving almost faster than the eye can follow.

  After a few muttered calculations, her eyes briefly flash with excitement, an expression she quickly suppresses before looking up and replying flatly, “We can make it work, yes.”

  I get the distinct impression that is a massive understatement.

  I guess she’s not going to share the actual numbers. Maybe she doesn’t want to reveal how much profit Griswald stands to make off this deal, just in case the other party starts rethinking their offer.

  “That’s not the only threat we’ll be contending with,” Griswald continues. “How familiar are you with the Temple of the Dragon God?”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” I reply.

  “The temple is built beneath the capital,” Willow says casually.

  Everyone in the room turns to her with varying degrees of surprise.

  “Well… I’m a little surprised you knew that, Lady Willow,” Griswald admits. “But yes. And also, many among the Arcadian nobility are worshipers of the Dragon God. For most, his teachings are simply principles to live by—aspirations of continuous growth in knowledge and power. Others view his words as prophecy. But there are some… who interpret his teachings very differently.”

  “And what does that have to do with Tiamat?” I ask.

  Griswald’s expression tightens with concern. And anything that worries a man like Griswald should terrify most others.

  “There are extremists within the church who seek to force the reincarnation of the Dragon God,” he says grimly. “They’ve been searching for one of his direct descendants to use as a vessel for his soul.”

  “Insolent neanderthals! MY body will not be used as their sacrifice.” The deep, resonant voice rumbles out of Jade again, this time tinged with concern. The red eye flares with anger. “If they try, I will burn them and their cities to ash and cinders!”

  “We will not let that happen!” I say firmly, looking directly at Jade. Then I turn to Griswald, repeating myself with emphasis, this time as an appeal. “We will not let this happen, right?”

  “No, we won’t,” Griswald affirms. “First, as a follower myself, I won’t allow harm to come to his kin out of respect for his teachings. Second, dragons and kobolds are the only non-human races protected under Arcadian law. It is my duty to protect them. And third—” he pauses, glancing at Jade, “—because we stand to gain a great deal by trading for their mithril.”

  “That may have been a bit too forthright, Master,” Silfy says, her face pale and her voice strained, as though she’s on the verge of vomiting.

  “A wise… man… once said you shouldn’t trust anyone who has nothing to gain,” Tiamat replies through Jade’s mouth, with a note of dry amusement. Her red eye flits momentarily toward me, then returns to Griswald. “I look forward to our mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  “As do I,” Griswald says with a respectful nod.

  At that, the red eye softens, its focus aligning with Jade’s green one. Jade gasps as if she’s been holding her breath, panting hard as she clutches her chest. Her pupils are pinpricks, and it’s clear she’s just endured a deeply uncomfortable experience sharing her body with the dragon.

  “You okay, Jade?” I ask gently.

  “Y-yeah… I’ll b-be fine,” she stammers, slowly calming herself. “I do not like that at all.”

  “How about you, Silfy? You look rather sick this morning,” Willow says, placing an odd emphasis on her words.

  From experience, I know that Willow never says anything without a reason. But I haven’t the slightest clue what she meant by that—and if Silfy does, she isn’t showing it.

  “Just a bit of a cold. I’ll be fine,” Silfy replies stiffly.

  The kitchen doors swing open, and Mira and Aeris enter, each carrying trays piled high with food. They set down four large silver platters filled with grilled and seasoned fish, roasted sweet potatoes, and a vibrant garden salad. The rich blend of aromas hits me all at once, and my appetite surges.

  “Jade,” Griswald says, gesturing toward the spread, “Ren told me a bit about the food you're familiar with, so I asked my cooks to do their best to create something similar to what you might have at home. I know what it’s like to be far from your homeland and miss the comfort of familiar meals. I want you to feel welcome here.”

  That was… surprisingly thoughtful.

  Mira begins serving plates—Griswald first, then Jade, myself, Silfy, Diana, and finally Willow. Afterward, she and Aeris set extra place settings for the staff and make plates for themselves.

  But while the rest of us begin to eat, Jade simply stares at her plate.

  She hasn’t touched her fork. Her eyes shift between the food and the others at the table, uncertain and hesitant. Before long, everyone has noticed, pausing mid-bite to glance her way.

  “Something wrong with the food?” Mira asks, clearly concerned. As the cook, she has the most at stake.

  Jade glances up, embarrassed. “Why… is it burnt?”

  “It’s not burnt,” I explain gently, noticing the way Mira flinches at the question. “It’s cooked.”

  “Cooked? Like in fire?” Jade blinks, genuinely puzzled. “Why would you put a fish in a fire?”

  Willow, who hasn’t started eating either, lets a small, knowing smile tug at her lips.

  “Your fish tastes great, Mira,” Diana says, trying to ease the tension. “She’s just not used to human food.”

  “Maybe you’d like the salad?” I offer, trying to help her find something more familiar.

  Jade picks up her fork and nudges at the greens. “What’s this slimy liquid on the grass?” she asks, grimacing.

  “That’s… salad dressing,” I say. “Vinegar and herbs, I think.” I spear a bite from my own plate and chew thoughtfully. “It’s good.Its… sour.”

  And then suddenly I am struck with an intense deja vu, and a grin I am helpless to hide.

  “Maybe you’d prefer the sweet potatoes?”

  Dear Reader,

  Best regards,

  Lady Willow of the Fae