The Dragon Queen's Heir [book one]

5

IT ISN'T HARD TO FIND DINNER. Though my head is pounding and my thoughts are swirling with unanswered questions, I still manage to follow the sounds of music and cheering all the way to the courtyard. When I step over the threshold and onto impossibly soft grass, I expect everyone to stop and stare at me, but they're either too drunk to notice or care, or they're too caught up in each other to see me walking through their midst.

I don't realize I'm hungry until I see the food near the edge of the courtyard. I hurry over, keeping my head low, and grab a plate, surveying my options. The food has nothing on the work of the palace cooks, but it still looks delicious, piles of various meats on one side and desserts on the other, fruits and vegetables in the middle.

I take a few random foods I remember being served together at one point in my life, then hurry over to the drinks, taking a cup and pouring a yellow liquid I assume is lemonade inside. Then I glance around the courtyard, feeling hopelessly alone, and decide to sit by myself under a large outcropping of rock near the entrance of the courtyard.

Cursing myself for picking such a flashy color of hair, I keep my head low, rushing to my chosen spot so fast I almost don't notice when I bump into someone and spill my drink all over their shirt. I murmur an apology and keep going, cursing myself again for being so clumsy. "Hey!" the person exclaims. "This is my best shirt!"

A few people stop their conversations and gape openly at me, and I sigh, turning back around to face a large boy with angry green eyes and slicked-back brown hair. "I'm sorry," I say again, my face hot. "I didn't mean to. If you need a new shirt or something, I'd be happy to—"

"No," the boy says, scoffing and shaking his head. He takes a moment to scan my body, his face twisting in confusion. By now, most of the people around us are silent, my face growing warmer by the second. "Are you a servant?"

At a loss for words, I simply shake my head. Come on, Ash. Get a grip. "No," I say, gripping my plate so hard my knuckles turn white. "I'm a Rider." Exclamations of surprise immediately meet my words; by now, the entire school must be listening to our conversation. Why can't I just get some peace?

"Oh, yeah?" the boy asks. His lips curve into a smirk, and something like amusement glints in his eyes. "If you're a Rider, where's your dragon?"

Shoot. Did I miss something? "I, uh, just got here." Squirming under the boy's piercing gaze, I rack my brain for a way out of this situation. "Listen, I'm really sorry about your shirt, but I'm really hungry, so--"

"Don't you know what happened the last time a girl attended this academy?" The boy's voice is dead serious, crawling under my skin and making me squirm. Tears of frustration begin to build behind my eyes, but I blink them back. I am legitimate! I want to scream, but I know doing that will only put me in a worse position, so I keep quiet. Murmurs begin to spread through the crowd, building until the urge to scream becomes practically unbearable.

"Derrick, I think that is quite enough," a voice says from behind me. A moment later, a gentle hand places itself on my shoulder, and I hold my breath as the boy, who must be Derrick, pales and backs away. When he's gone, I turn around and meet the eyes of a tall, lanky boy with dark hair and darker eyes. "Let's get you to my dorm. I think you'll be more comfortable there." He gives me a pained smile and turns around, leading me through group after group of stunned students and back into the school.

After a few moments of silence, I ask, "Why are you helping me? Aren't you scared I'll burn down the school or something?"

The boy winces and shakes his head, giving me a sideways glance. "I'll answer all your questions in my dorm. We're not far away." I nod and walk with him through a few more halls, taking in the paintings on the wall—they're strikingly similar to the ones in the headmaster's study, depicting scenes of various points in dragon history. I'm so engulfed in studying them I don't notice the boy has stopped until I almost walk past him.

"It's no problem," he says, giving me a wry grin. "When I first got here, I couldn't stop looking at them, either." He opens the door to his room and gestures for me to enter first, then follows me inside. The dorm is simple, with a small bed pushed against one wall and a desk pushed up against another. The rest of the space is full of stacked parchment with various sketches, diagrams, and long, scripted words covering their surface. The air smells faintly of vanilla, as if there was something in the room meant to disguise a more unfavorable smell.

I take it all in as the boy pulls up a chair and small table, then ask, "How long have you been a student here? People in the courtyard seem to respect you."

The boy chuckles and sits in the chair backwards, wrapping his legs around the chair's back and resting his forearms on its top. "That wasn't respect. It was fear." I don't get a chance to ask what, exactly, they're afraid of, because the boy continues, sighing and gesturing for me to set down my tray of now-cold food on the table and sit down. "I've been a student here for six years. I'm graduating after this year to serve the new king."

I nod and take a bite of my food, wincing when I realize I was right—it's nowhere near as warm as it had been when I had put it on my plate, but I force myself to eat it anyway. It's the first quality meal I've had all day. "You can show me your real appearance, Ashlyn. I meant what I said about you being comfortable in here," the boy says.

I freeze. "How did you know?"

"That's a long story, and one I'm not entirely sure you're ready for." The boy gestures for me to take out my stone, and I obey, the now-familiar sensation of my appearance returning to normal overtaking my body. The boy studies me for a moment, his eyes filling with sadness, but it's quickly gone as he smiles and extends his hand. "Oliver Earnest, at your service. Sorry about all that drama in the courtyard. I hope that little bump won't affect your experience here."

I take Oliver's hand and shake it, years of etiquette training finally serving a purpose as I smile. "Ashlyn Rehlia. Nice to meet you, Oliver." 

And we finally meet Oliver, quite possibly my favorite character in this series! He's my little baby <3 Anyway, please don't forget to vote if you enjoyed this chapter, and comment your predictions!

~ Amber