The Riders

Princess Lorelei is not your average princess. She wears gowns and has manners- and rides dragons. On her eighteenth birthday, when she chooses her betrothed, she is kidnapped and held prisoner by the Green Dragon, their rival kingdom. About to be forced into a marriage that will lead to destructive war, she stumbles upon a book holding a legend of the first ever Rider Dragon. If Lorelei can find the dragon before the war, she can save her kingdom and win her freedom. But how can she find something that doesn't exist to save a kingdom that may not exist much longer?

Last Updated

05/31/21

Chapters

32

Reads

789

Chapter 6

Everett sits in an ebony throne at a massive obsidian dais. The room itself is of dark marble, with windows of stained glass depicting dragons, knights, and scenes from the Holy Books. The room is strangely devoid of any and all courtiers, though there are chairs enough to accomodate many. The chair where Everett rests has a large green gem at its summit, and Everett himself wears a rather nasty grin. He thrums his fingers on the table, brightening when he sees me.  "Ah, lovely Lorelei. Thank you so much for willingly joining me."

I glare at him, and then swing myself into the seat at the other end of the dais. He moves over into the chair next to mine. I move down so that I'm at the opposite end. He slides in next to me. This goes on for some time until I finally grit my teeth and pour the pitcher of dark orange sauce that resided upon the table all over the seats surrounding me. It is not my most graceful action of all time, and I slop a bit onto my own skirts, but it works. Everett gives me a 'you win this time' look and moves back to his throne. I note with a sort of nasty satisfaction that he's now wearing an eye patch. Apparently that match hurt more than he let on.
"So," he says, "what do you like to do when you are at home?"
The wait staff chooses this time to bring in the first course, which I shovel into my mouth like it's my last meal. Every time he asks me a question I spoon more comestibles into my face. He repeats his question about what I like to do when I'm at home, and unfortunately at that moment he catches me without any rice soup.
I glare at him. "Well, I Ride, but that's most likely not allowed. I like to sew. Could some scissors and things be delivered to my rooms, please? I enjoy playing contemporary card games such as rummy, cornhole, and snitchers. However, I am guessing that nobody here is a good card player. I have also discovered a game called poker, in which people bet items or sums of money on the outcome of their card game. I enjoy sword fighting, especially a certain sport type known as fencing. I love to read, and can speak and read Italian with proficiency."
Everett laughs. It is a cold, mirthless sound, and I vow to try never to make him laugh again if that is the sound it warrants. "Are those your hobbies? I suppose we can get you some sewing supplies, and perhaps I can learn to play such games as snitchers and cornhole. I refuse, however, to let you Ride, gamble, or swordfight. You are a lady."
Yes, I am entirely a lady. I am a lady who swordfights and wears trousers and throws matches into peple's eyes. I scoop up a large amount of saucy potatoes with spinach and stuff them into my mouth before he can ask me another question. This transcript is about what our meal sounded like.
Everett: Do you like to cook?
Lorelei: No, but I'd like to learn. Those knives are massive. You could quite likely hack anything to bits with that.
Everett: How about croquet? Have you ever played?
Lorelei: Oh yes, I have. Would you get a load of those mallets? They could inflict some severe damage.
Everett: Chess is a nice, civilized activity. Do you fancy chess?
Lorelei: I did, until I discovered that the pieces have horrible trajectory. Can't hit a window from five hundred feet with one.

Finally, I suppose that he grows tired of my hostile responses to his questions. He calls the dessert course out while I am still finishing my stewed quail with herbs. For some reason, he ate his nearly raw, dripping with juices. How rude! One is never supposed to call out another course until everyone is finished! However, I am pleased by this reprieve from his horrible, solicitous attention. I fairly jump from my chair and race upstairs to my chambers. The dress I wore hits the floor in a crumpled heap, and I leave it there. I pull on one of the nightshifts that were in my wardrobe. This is satin with overmuch lace trim and a matching robe and satin slippers. Before hitting the sheets, I pat the bed to make sure that there are no tiny spikes imbedded in the mattress. I fling myself to the bed when it passes my safety test, pull the sheets around myself, and fall asleep fast.

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