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Ch 20: Accommodations

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I may have only seen two Firehearts in their dragon forms, but it was enough to notice the stark difference between the two clans.

Cephias and Peter are muscular dragons with horns, wings, and scales painted in warm hues. Even in human form, their skin, hair, and eyes vary between shades of dark red clay and milky yellow.

But the Waterhearts careening past my window are long, lithe, and, to my surprise, wingless. Instead, they have silky, elegant fins that flutter through the air. I'm not sure if they help at all with their flight, given how they cut through the sky like a snake sliding over water.

If I hadn't spent the past few days contemplating life through my tiny prison window, I might have missed the Waterhearts' arrival. Their blue-green scales melt into the clear sky, their soft, feathery frills like lazy clouds.

Had I not known they were ruthless killers, I would have found them gentle and beautiful.

"Andre," I murmur my guard's name, unable to tear my eyes from the window even after the dragons flit from view.

"I saw."

He is a man of few words, and those that he shares are unshakably monotone. So hearing his tremor in such a simple sentence is terrifying.

"What should we do?"

I lift myself up with a groan. Though I do not begrudge my makeshift bed, it is far from generous on my back. I roll my shoulders and stretch my spine before shifting upon my blankets and turning to face that tall dragonith.

"I will remain here with you until called. That is what my lord has ordered."

At least I won't be alone should the Waterhearts unleash all the hells on the Firehearts.

I take a deep breath, grateful to have someone beside me. Still, if they slaughter Cephias and his people immediately, I'd rather go out beside them.

"Do you suspect that, um, they will have a chance to call us?"

I know it's a cruel question to ask when he must be far more afraid than I, as well as frustrated with his lord's order to stay with me instead of his intended. However, being the good sort he is, Andre has never aimed any ill will my way.

"I think Lord Irving would rather play with his food."

It's an unpleasant mental image, but I understand his meaning.

So I settle back into my blankets and wait for the inevitable summons.

***

Despite it all, I fall asleep.

Perhaps my body knows the trials ahead and is preparing me. Whatever the case, I am jolted awake by Andre's rough shove on my shoulder.

"What? Is it time?"

I blink my eyes, glancing up at the window to gauge the time of day. However, I'm yanked to my feet before I can gather my bearings. My shoulder cries out from the cruel treatment and my breath hisses through my teeth.

For a moment, I forget myself. Bewilderment and displeasure surge in my chest and I want to ask Andre why he needs to be so forceful.

"No," he answers before I can rebuff him, "it's not dinnertime."

Dinnertime? He should know I'm talking about the Waterhearts. I've barely been able to eat from anxiety these past couple of days.

"You'll have to wait until Lord Irving decides to feed you."

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