Four Years Later

Saya skimmed the words on the page. She already knew the story of Korova’s invasion. It was from Netta’s perspective, but it was close enough to the human accounts. Her account of it spoke like humans were nothing more than flies, and a war of ten years was reduced to a ten minute retelling. Saya preferred it to her tutor’s long diatribe.

We could just fly out the window, Netta said.

And we could get shot down by the royal guards, Saya replied. She was not old enough to be allowed to explore the capital on her own.

“What do you think would have prevented the destruction of Korova?” Arrik, her tutor, asked.

Saya thought it over.

“Instead of preventing the invasion by placating the enemy, they should have fortified their defenses more and cut off resources to Vorne,” Saya said.

“Resources?” Arrik asked.

“The five years before the first battle, Korova tried everything to prevent the war. One of their princesses was sent to be married to the Vorne crown prince. Valuable gifts were given to the royal family as well as the noble families near the border. They acquiesced to nearly every demand made by Vorne. It did them nothing in the end. If, in those five years, they had instead built a dam on the Briva River, they could have cut off water to a good portion of Vorne’s agriculture.”

“Do you think Korova did not think of that?”

“I think they took the cautious decision, and it was the wrong one,” Saya said with a shrug.

“Thank goodness you’re not in our army,” a voice said from the door.

Marron was one of the nobles who lived in the castle. He attended lessons with the princes and was their sparring partner. He was also a menace with too much free time on his hands.

“We would have met a fate like Korova’s,” Marron continued.

He’s just trying to make you angry, Netta warned her.

He’s succeeding, Saya responded. Other than the servants, most of the people in the castle ignored her. She was Bartholomew’s ward, but that offered her no status or respect. She did not desire either. All she wanted was to be left in peace until—

“Are you deaf as well as stupid, now?” Marron asked.

“Can we end classes here for today, Mr. Arrik?” Saya asked. The tutor nodded. He couldn’t ask a young noble to leave, and nothing would be taught effectively while Marron was in the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. If you could meet me at Master Bartholomew’s workspace, we can continue our lessons there. He wanted to speak to you about my progress as well.”

Bartholomew did not have much of a care for her education. He probably thought that her lessons were rudimentary, considering how much he told her about alchemy and magic when she spent time in his workroom.

Trust me, I would love nothing more than to turn him into a pile of ash, Netta said.

I know that, Saya said. She packed her books away into her bag and started walking towards the kitchen. If Bartholomew was in the castle she would have retreated to his workroom, but he was out in the city for some work. Marron could follow her to the kitchen, but he was someone uncomfortable in unfamiliar places. She grew up in the kitchen, and it was a place where she could comfortably blend into the surroundings. Her friends, the kitchen maids, would leave a snack I nfront of her and let her read in peace.

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Marron would not receive anything more than a mandatory respectful greeting in the kitchen. He was a young boy used to being catered to and cared for, and such nonchalance irked him.

“Going to the kitchen?” Marron asked.

She changed her mind and headed for the female servants’ quarters. Miri might not be in her rooms, but they were always open to her. With the balmy weather and her lessons over, she could nap in Miri’s room until Marron tired of waiting for her and left.

“Have you decided not to talk to me anymore? That’s rude, you know.”

“Good day, Lord Marron,” she said, offering him a short curtsy.

I think he might have a crush on you, Netta said. In his twisted little way.

That’s a disgusting thought, Netta.

“See you tomorrow,” Marron said.

She would endeavor not to. The moment she closed the door to Miri’s room, she let herself transform into her dragon form and lay on Miri’s bed. Netta let out a sigh of relief.

This is so much better, she whispered as Saya spread out her on Miri’s bed. When she transformed into a dragon, it no longer felt foreign. She transformed far more than Bartholomew knew. Miri sometimes came upon her in the room, but Miri had become accustomed to it. Sometimes, Saya thought she preferred it. Dragons were the very essence of fire, and in the drafty servants quarters, her presence left behind hours of warmth in the room.

When is Miri going to come? She always feeds us such delicious things.

Not for hours yet, Saya answered. In all the books she read and all she heard from old wives’ tales, there was never any talk of dragons and their love for food. The stories only told of their hunger for treasure. It was true that Netta urged her to save all of her pocket money and all the gifts she received over the years. There was a little treasure trove in the chest at the foot of her bed. When Saya was tired, she would spread the contents of the chest across her bed, transform into her dragon form, and lie on top, curled into a ball like a cat.

Netta had a love for food just as she did for wealth. She wasn’t bloodthirsty as Saya imagined she would be. Her palate was more like an experienced chef than a beast, and she liked tasting a little bit each of the fine pastries from the kitchen. She insisted Saya eat the freshest fruits and vegetables, expensive teas, and refused everything that did not meet her standard. Saya could eat it, but she would have to listen to complaints for the next few hours about how her body was not a chamber pot, to drop shit into it.

The room grew warmer as she relaxed into Miri’s soft bed, and Netta hummed her a lullaby. Sleep was inevitable, and Saya leaned into her tiredness. It had been a long and tiring day, and there was no one looking for her for a few hours. It was a risk to sleep in her dragon form, but this form of hers had begun to feel just as much hers as her human body.

She woke after dusk and in her human form. Miri should’ve been back to her rooms by then. Nights in the castle were cold, and the cold made the ache in the old woman’s joints worse. She rejected all of Bartholomew’s magic to treat her ailments, instead relying on her local hedge witch for remedies.

“Miri!” Saya called out. Sometimes Miri would stop by at one of the other maids’s rooms before coming to her own.

The entire corridor was empty, and she made her way down to the kitchens. It had been her initial plan, before Marron had deterred her. The kitchens were more crowded than usual, although it was not a special day.

“Saya! Where were you?”

"I was in Miri’s room, waiting for her. Where is she?”

“She’s at the infirmary. She collapsed this morning,” a maid said.

“Collapsed?”

It was true that Miri was growing older, and she needed rest more often. There was no one as good as her when it came to managing the castle though.

“The harvest festival is coming up, and the king has decided to hold a banquet at the same time. The entire castle has to be prepared for the guests. It’s a while off, but there’s much work to be done. She was overworking herself, even though we warned her against it.”

“The physician said that she should retire now,” the maid said. “She’s earned enough to buy a cottage in her hometown, and I hear her daughter wants her to retire as well. God knows why she’s holding out.”

It was for her. Saya rushed to the infirmary as others joined in with the gossip. It was true that Miri was a big part of the castle’s daily functioning, but she was not irreplaceable. There were plenty of senior maids who could take her place with a bit of training.

She had done more work as a nursemaid to Saya in her childhood than for the castle. She had treated Saya like her own child. Saya would do anything for a few more years with Miri by her side.

Then do it, Netta said. She loves you. She would not leave a child she loves for her grown daughter. What will she do in her sleepy little village? At least here, she can see the splendor of royalty. She can at least from a distance see the riches that will never be her own.

It was such a terrible thought, such a terrible suggestion. Saya knew she was not the kindest girl. Kindness could be a weakness at times. It would be easy to manipulate Miri. She wouldn’t even have to ask and Miri would stay behind until the day she died.

I can’t do that to her, Saya said.

Do you think Bartholomew will let her go, even if you do? She knows about us, more than anyone else.

I’ll convince him, Saya said. She would, too. She would threaten him to let Miri go if she needed to.