Dragons of Marak: Book 1, Wings & Sword

#4

 "I thought I told you not to leave this house," Ana's father said. He was dressed in his work attire, a white waistcoat that was so snug one could make out the shape of his belly, and a white cravat, with a black tail coat draped over his chair.

But Ana took more notice of her father's posture than she did of his clothing. His elbows were pressed into the edge of the table, his hands clenched into fists, and his face was red. Not like Leti's face around Luka. No, this was much worse. He'd come home early, and he'd caught her being out without permission.

"I just went shopping with Leti, that's all," Ana said. It was a little white lie.

"And yet, somehow, you got nothing, and you ruined another dress," her father said.

Ana cringed. Two dresses wrecked in three weeks. She recalled the end of the incident outside the Ribek Tower. The crowd had trampled her and Leti, literally ripping her dress apart to get at her valuables. At first, Ana had tried to resist. She'd kicked and shoved people away with her arms and legs, but it had only slowed them down, not stopped them. Leti had screamed at their dragons to attack, but the dragons had refused.

"It's not right to attack a human," Cee had said.

"What about the spindelldra that attacked us?" Ana had tried to argue.

"That dragon wasn't right in the mind," Taea had said.

Eventually, Ana had given up on escaping from the crowd. Leti too. They had lain still, allowing scrabbling hands and heavy bodies to nearly suffocate them. Ana had smelled the whole palette of Tekor in those few minutes. From ashy scents of smokers, to sour sweat.

Eventually, the throng had scattered, as they'd come to realize Ana and Leti had nothing left. They had swarmed the stairs, chanting and yelling for the factory owners to come outside.

Ana and Leti had helped each other to their feet, the damage to their dresses rivaling the damage that spindelldra had done only a few weeks ago. Shopping had no longer been on their minds then. They had just gone home, one weary step after another.

Now, Ana was seated on one side of a large redwood table, accompanied by her mother, father, and her two younger twin brothers. She wore a large, traditional red evening gown, one that poofed out so much it was as if she were holding a box on her lap while she sipped her steaming soup. The dress even covered her arms all the way down to the elbows, and it showed none of her legs. It was the sort of thing parents liked to see their kids wear. She had hoped it would ease her father's anger. But if it did, it wasn't enough to allow for a peaceful meal.

"Gio tells me he didn't see you leave," her father said.

"That's right," Ana said.

"Well, I don't buy it. That's the fourth time in the last two weeks he's not seen you, and I'm sure that he knows you are not to leave the house, so either he's slacking or he's helping you."

"That's not—" Ana tried to say.

"I've had him beaten. And I'll have him beaten again if you sneak out of this house without my permission one more time."

"Father, you can't-!"

"To be honest, I don't care about where you went. I care that you listen to me. Now shape up, or I'm going to have to ground you for another month."

Ana frowned. She looked at her mother, but of course her mother would not interrupt her father while he was speaking. She just smiled and nodded sweetly.

Across from her, the twins, only nine years of age, smirked and sipped some of their soup. They were the only ones enjoying it.

"And if you can't do that, I'll have you kept in your room, forbidden from wandering around the house, with two guards posted outside at all times. Do you want that?"