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Chapter 6

Author: Alexandria Christi
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

We entered the crowd again, Cyra close on my heels. I could feel her displeasure from a mile away, but I did not let it deter me in the slightest. She would learn, eventually, that humans aren't all that they had taught us. Sometimes they could be so much more than us. More than what we had learned from in the past. A new dawn was breaking and I wanted to be at the forefront of the new day.

"What you did was reckless, Zhara. You do not know that man. Know nothing of who he is loyal to and what he might hide. How can you be so stupid?" She hissed as she slid in beside me, looping her arm through mine.

"How can you condemn a man you had just met?" I countered and strolled on. I watched every woman around us, instantly noting the way they dressed and carried themselves. We had no place within their ranks, it was obvious. Layers upon layers of fabric swished on just one woman. Her bust was fully covered, hair tightly pinned down beneath a big hat. Even her arms were trapped within fabric. What a pitiful excuse for something called fashion. Many more deceased countries had far better taste, yet they met their doom. A pity.

Cyra was busy scolding me when I interrupted her, not even realizing she was in the middle of a rant. "Do you think they feel caged?"

"What?"

"Do you think these women feel as if they are caged by the roles they intend to play in society? Just look at them, none of them smile or laugh," I noted with some form of misplaced sadness. Cyra rolled her eyes at me but carried on walking. People started staring now, the deeper we went into the market. Maybe we should find a tailor to change. 

"It is their role that they must play, same as you and I, but your role does not include exposing us to someone we do not know, especially a human," Cyra continued scolding but I had lost interest in the subject a while ago. It wasn't as if the man would ever come looking for us, and if he did, he would never be able to find us. I, however, could find him in a heartbeat. As long as Cyra didn't go and report this back to my mother, it would be as if nothing had ever happened. 

"I bore of this conversation, I did what I did, it cannot be undone and your complaining will not change that matter. Turn your attention elsewhere, like when Govander said that it was the king's fault the money is currently declining in worth,” 

"That is still something the old man had said; thus I can continue on my rant about how you converse with people who might be a threat to us!" Cyra shrieked, causing people to stop and glare at us. Hopefully they thought we were arguing about another prostitute or something. Not that many dragon loyalists remained in the world. It was very lucky that we had found one now. It could be of some use in the future.

I ignored Cyra and carried on with the conversation I wanted to have instead. "What do you think the king is doing that is so taxing on the people's funds? I mean, we hadn't waged a war in the last 200 years," I told her and spied for a clothing shop close by.

"Whatever the reason may be, it isn't any of our concern, Zhara. You know that. Their lives are like specks of dust compared to ours. I am one of the youngest heirs and yet I am still older than most of their elderly," Cyra brushed it off again, letting me drop the subject all the same. She might not have been right in my eyes, but it didn't warrant an argument in the middle of a human settlement. 

"Let's not hash this out here where anyone can walk close enough to us to understand that this conversation shouldn't take place between two human girls," I instructed and walked towards where I spotted a boutique. Cyra walked with her arm tangled within mine but didn't comment. She was the Heir for the Ignis. The fire dragons. A few years younger than I am, with a tall slender frame and untameable red hair. By all accounts, she was stunning, but a very wild spirit to tame. Except when it came to her views on humans and dragons. Those were very rigid lines in her book and lines should never be blurred. The old teachings of our kind. As the heir of the Tenebris, darkness Dragons, and Princess of all 8 clans, I should uphold the same views, but I couldn't, thanks to my father.

The shop was rather busy when we entered. Several women ogled pieces on the mannequins but looked disgruntled when the assistants to the shop told them the prices. It seemed that the plummet in currency affected everyone. The owner of the shop stared down at us as we browsed alongside the rest of her customers. By the looks of it, we would be the only ones who purchased anything, but the burly woman with terrible grey streaks still glared. Cyra aimed for a turquoise gown in the furthest corner, with white embellishments. Everything was made of sub-par material, as far as I could tell. Mother would have laughed at this establishment. The Ventus, Air Dragons, created the most delicate and intricate fabrics known to mankind. Mother would only ever dress herself in their fabrics. All dragons would.

"We don't sell to your kind," the burly woman sneered from right next to me. I must have zoned out watching Cyra fuss over the scratchy garments the assistants were strapping her into. It almost looked painful, with so many ribbons to keep you inside. Another form of a cage these women must endure.

"We will pay you good money for two full outfits, including any accessories you think might fit," I answered her confidently and smiled. Rage peeked from beneath her cold eyes, but I could see it. Any high ranking Caligo would. I jiggled my pockets for emphasis, the gold I had brought with clanging loudly enough to make most of the women turn towards us. Watching. Waiting. What will it be, burly woman? Sell out your loyal customers, who might never spend another dime here if you sold to what looked like harlots, or sleep hungry tonight? Her eyes darted to my pockets, then to my face. She opened her mouth just as two guards strolled by the shop.

"Thieves!" she hollered and ran to the door, grabbing her skirts as she flung herself halfway out the door. "Help me please! There are two thieves inside my shop. Lined their pockets with my money!" she screamed again as I turned towards the door, expression of boredom plastered to my face. I couldn't use any of my powers, too many people heard the cry and might gather. So we had to run.

"Cyra!" I hissed and inclined my head towards the door. She understood immediately, smiled at the assistant, who had dressed her only halfway, and took off for the door. Two guards stood just outside as a bare-chested Cyra jumped before them and wiggled her chest, tongue out in defiance. I followed close by, but the one guard caught my arm. My heart sped up a pace as I looked him square in his caramel eyes and nearly collapsed from his beauty. High cheekbones. Square jaw. Straight nose. Pouty lips and the most perfectly styled dark brown hair. Even amongst dragons he would be considered attractive. Amongst humans, he could have been a god. "It was nice ogling you, but I have somewhere to be," I whispered and ripped out of his grip.

"Same here," he whispered back and lunged for me again. I side stepped and sprinted towards where I last saw Cyra cutting through the crowd. Grabbing the bag of golden coins from my pocket, I threw them on the ground as I ran. The people around me saw what had been dropped and swarmed the little river of gold, blocking my view from the handsome stranger I wish I could have tangled with a bit longer.

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