A Crown of Gold

The Slayers of Legend

I wasn't lying when I told Mistress Carlton I'd be awhile. I'd been combing through the thick, yellow-paged scripts on dragons for hours, and still no word about dragon slayers.

In the process, I had learned quite a few interesting and useful facts about my beastly friends. For example, a dragon can fly over five hundred miles without tiring. As someone with little knowledge as to how large the world is, five hundred miles might as well been a million. I'd have to ask Sephraim to answer my question of whether or not she could fly clear across the ocean.

Just as I closed the fourteenth book on dragons with a huff, the heavy door to the library was pushed open. My eyes flicked quickly over to the incoming visitor, desperate to stare at something other than the black ink scrawled across the weathered pages.

A boy probably not much older than myself waltzed in. His demeanor was calm and confident, as though he'd been here a hundred times and dared anyone to ask him what he thought he was doing here. I was seated at one of the heavy stone tables on the second tier—the library had four tiers, each leading higher and higher so one could remain near their chosen subject without having to climb up and down a ladder. An efficient system, I do commend.

I watched as the young man looked around the room casually, his dark auburn hair combed back into a perfect styling. His eyes were pale, that much I could tell, but from my spot I couldn't quite tell what color they were. His shoulders were broad, but his lean build kept me from assuming there was much of a muscular build beneath his blue coat. A white shirt was positioned casually into the front of his pants, yet his whole image screamed higher class.

His eyes continued to dance over each person in the room until they fell upon me, sitting with my head ducked low as I examined him. His head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side, a tight lipped smile coming over his face. I managed a half-hearted smile back, averting my eyes to closed book cover that sat on the table in front of me.

When I glanced back down at the floor, he was gone from his previous spot. I looked around, sitting up a little straighter in my search to find him again.

"You must be the dragon rider." A smooth voice announced. I whipped my head in the direction of the words, finding they belonged to the very gentleman I was looking for.

Two colors—his eyes. One an icy blue and the other any equally pale green.

"Asha," I answered. "And yes. I'd be the dragon rider."

He hummed, his hands pulled behind his back. He stood much more proper now that he was in my presence. "May I?" He asked politely, gesturing to the chair placed across from my own seat.

I raised my eyebrows, nodding my head toward the seat as of to say be my guest.

He pulled the seat away from the table and sat down softly, maintaining his posture the entire time. "Forgive me, my name is Nikolai, prince of Greenbrock."

My eyes widened at his identity. I knew I'd requested his presence, but part of me didn't expect he'd show up. I found myself bowing my head a little.

He laughed through his nose a little, "No need to kiss my hand or anything."

It took me a moment to realize he was joking. I forced a laugh, not sure how he'd react if I didn't.

"I was told you wanted to speak with me?" He changed the subject, which I was grateful for.

I cleared my throat, gently pushing the book to the side. "Yes, I wanted to ask you a few questions."

He nodded, looking at me eagerly. I wondered how much normal human interaction he got as a prince. "You're The prince, so I'm guessing you know more about the contents of this library than Mistress Carlton. I didn't want to ask the scholars because part of me believed they wouldn't understand."