The Dragon Games

Squad Tudor

A girl named Grace Midland closed the bidding ceremony. She was easily the most beautiful girl Regan had ever seen. She had a face pulled straight from the story books, brown skin that glowed under the torch lights, and a long, sleek braid. According to the whispers going around the tudor table, her father was a lord, her mother was a princess from an island nation, and their daughter was determined to one up all pledges that came before her. 

Grace didn't just toss her sword aside; she folded one arm behind her back. Grace didn't just throw her opponent across the length of the mess hall; she had him hanging from the ceiling. Shocking no one, Grace Midland received four bids. Shocking everyone, Grace strode past balthasar to sit at the next best table, squad windsor.

"I thought balthasar was the best," a tudor pledge blurted out.

"It's often viewed that way," Cassian said diplomatically. "But with Edmond around, no one will ever be captain but him. Duke Tudor can play at fairness all he likes, but he would never choose another pledge over his son. Talented pledges like Grace Midland will often trade their place for a stab at captaincy."

"Arrogant," a pledge grumbled.

"Ambitious," Cassian corrected.

With bidding finished, Cassian led Regan and forty other pledges sporting a new badge – a Regan possum – to squad Tudor's assigned tower. Regan walked alone, the group too wary to approach her, until another pledge came near, egged on by his friends.

"Hey, raid– I mean, Anne," he said. "So how come you chose Tudor?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Regan spotted his friends not so subtly watching their conversation. "Uh–" she couldn't remember what Cassian told her to say. What if her lie conflicted with his? "I'm just grateful to be here."

He squinted at her. "Yes, but why?"

"I'm keeping my head down," Regan said.

He titled his head. "So it's a–"

The tower door kicked open, and a group leaped from the shadows. Regan jumped into action, raising her dagger, only to freeze when she noticed the cake, streamers, and posters.

WELCOME HOME PLEEBS!

WEEKS UNTIL BLOOD FEST: FOUR

Sheepishly, she pocketed her dagger. Grads and rookies greeted them, handing thick red patches shaped like the letter "T" and name tags. Regan scrawled her name down and pinned it to her jacket, but there was barely any time for introductions before two goblets bashed together, silencing the tower. A middle aged man stood on one of the tables, his swollen beer belly waving hello at them. With his ruddy cheeks, unkempt beard, boar coat, and heavy gold chains, he made for an interesting combination of wealth and scruff.

"Our duke has graced us with his time?" a pledge said, perking up. "Maybe he does care about us."

The grad next to them snorted. "Once in a blue moon, miracles do happen. Maybe next year, he'll tear himself away from the boozing and boar-hunting long enough to honor us with two appearances, and we might actually be able to afford–" Cassian elbowed him in the ribs, sending the grad collapsing in on themselves just as the duke's speech began.

"For the new faces, I am your House sponsor, Duke Tudor. Now take a look around, pledges. These are the people you are going to live, train, and study with until the red moon rises and Blood Fest begins. And if all goes well, you'll spend the next three years here, and the people standing beside you will become more than your teammates. They're going to be your best friends, closest confidants, maybe even your spouse–"

Regan accidentally locked eyes with another pledge. He went stiff as a board, the color draining from his face. Regan thought about blowing him a kiss.