The Princess of Trelian (4 page)

Guilt was a powerful motivating force, Meg had discovered. Especially once she’d been introduced to Pela, who was very sweet and nice and seemed so genuinely to want to fulfill her newly assigned role.

“Perhaps,” her father said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts, “you would feel more rested if you actually
slept
at night, instead of going for rides on your dragon.”

Of course. Her dragon. She should have known it would come back to this.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Meg told him. “I just wanted some air.”

“Meg.” He looked steadily at her, an echo of her mother’s worry on his face. “I know you need to spend time with Jakl. I understand that, truly. Serek has explained about the link, and I know we cannot expect you to act as though it does not exist. But you cannot . . .” He paused, searching for words. “People are beginning to . . . talk.”

“Talk?”

“About the appropriateness of a princess having a dragon for a pet.” He put up a hand to forestall her heated objection. “I know, that’s not what he is. But from the outside, all people see is that the soon-to-be princess-heir has apparently adopted a dangerous beast to be her constant companion. It makes them . . . uneasy.” His voice softened. “Surely you can understand.”

She understood. It was everyone else who didn’t understand. She understood that her parents claimed to have accepted what had happened to her, but they hadn’t, not really. How could they? Their daughter was
linked
to a
dragon.
Connected, body and mind, forever. She was still struggling to come to terms with it herself. She was the same, but also not the same. And now her mother was worried about her, and her father didn’t know what to make of her, and Maurel — well, okay, Maurel seemed to not care at all about the dragon, except to think it was exciting. But everyone else was treating her differently now, holding her at arm’s length, looking at her as though they expected her to sprout wings of her own any moment now and fly away.

She could feel the hot anger beginning to rise again inside her.

“I don’t see how going for rides at night is any worse than going for rides during the day,” Meg said, still trying to keep her voice calm.

Her parents exchanged a look. Then her mother said, “We’d like you to spend less time riding during the day, too.”

Meg was on her feet before she realized it, looking down at her parents incredulously. “I thought you said you understood!” she said. “I
have
to spend time with him. Serek told you —”

“Why does spending time with him have to include riding?” her mother asked. “You can just visit him in that nice enclosure we had constructed. Or, if necessary, in the field beyond the garden . . .”

Meg stared at them. The edges of her vision seemed tinged with red. “If
necessary
? No. You don’t understand at all. We have to fly together. It’s — I can’t explain it. But it’s important. And I’m not going to start trying to hide him from everyone. I won’t!”

“Meg —” the king began.

“I know you both wish we didn’t have a dragon to worry about. But we do. And I’m very sorry if Jakl makes the people of Trelian uncomfortable, but they’re just going to have to get used to it, aren’t they?”

The king and queen exchanged another look, and then her father looked back at her with a strange expression. “Actually, Meg,” he said, “not necessarily.”

The room suddenly seemed very quiet.

Meg continued to stand there, looking back and forth between them. “What,” she asked finally, “does that mean?”

The queen leaned over toward Maurel, who was staring down at her porridge and seemed to be trying very hard to pretend no one was arguing. “Maurel, please go and tell Nan Vera that you’re finished with your breakfast now.”

“Yes, Mother,” Maurel said quietly. She fled without looking back.

The king waited until Maurel had gone. Then he said, “Meg. Please sit down.”

“No.”

He sighed but didn’t insist. “While it’s . . . traditional for the eldest child remaining in the kingdom to inherit the throne, it is not by any means required. If it seems that the people will not accept you as princess-heir, we might have to consider passing the title to Maurel instead.”

Meg blinked, trying to take this in. “But — the ceremony, at Autumn Turning —”

“Can be adjusted, or delayed,” her father said. He reached across the table toward her hand. “Meg, we don’t
want
to do this.”

She snatched her hand away. “But you’re going to threaten me with it all the same,” she said.

“We have to do what is best for this kingdom,” her father said, his voice sharper now. “Which is what you should be thinking about as well.”

“So you’ve decided that what’s best for the kingdom is for me to hide what I am,” she said bitterly. Her mother looked away. Her father just kept looking at her.

“Haven’t you ever considered that there might be advantages to having our own dragon, loyal to the kingdom?” she asked.

“But he’s not loyal to the kingdom, Meg,” her father said. “He’s loyal to you. Don’t you see? We need the people to accept you before we can ask them to think about the advantages of having a dragon. You must understand how frightening Jakl seems to those who don’t know him, who don’t know that he’s connected to you so closely. People are wondering where he came from and why you are seen spending so much time with him. Once they are firmly in support of you, such things will become much easier.”

“Accept me,” Meg repeated in a flat voice. “They don’t
accept
me? Because of Jakl?”

“Meg —” her mother began.

Meg shook her head in disbelief, no longer even trying to hold back her anger and indignation. “Jakl
saved
them! We would be at war right now if it weren’t for him! Or worse!” She was shouting now, but she didn’t care. “And Maerlie would be
dead
! Have you forgotten that?”

“Meg!” her father barked at her. “Control yourself!”

“No,” she said, backing away. Everything in her vision was turning red now. She had to get out of there. “I can’t talk to you right now. I have to — I can’t —”

She turned and ran from the room, ignoring her parents’ voices calling after her. Jakl was responding to her anger, and she was glad. She ran toward the courtyard, toward the garden. She was
not
going to stop spending time with him. She was not going to hide who she was. Her parents would learn to accept it. Everyone would learn to accept it. She wouldn’t give them a choice.

She was out and up and on Jakl’s back and away in seconds. For spite, she flew him low over the city, letting everyone get a nice, long look at their terrifying dragon princess. Then she let go, freeing her mind of her parents’ concerns, the ungrateful people of Trelian, all of it. She let Jakl fly where he would, and felt nothing but the wind and the sky and her dragon and the link shining strong and invisible and eternal between them.

Later, much later, she was sorry.

She was sitting on the fence outside Jakl’s paddock, watching him roll around in the grass. As usual after one of her flares of temper, she couldn’t quite understand why she’d gotten so angry. Of course she didn’t like hearing that the people of Trelian were uncertain about her, but she did understand. Her parents were right — she had to win the people over, let them see that she could be the princess-heir they wanted her to be.

She cringed, thinking of her recent flight over the city.

Her anger was gone now, replaced with a kind of empty sadness. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t stop flying with Jakl altogether. But maybe she could make sure they flew out over the forest, where they wouldn’t be seen. And she could try harder to be seen without him, to be seen doing . . . normal things. Appropriate princess-heir things.

Things that wouldn’t make anyone uneasy.

This was probably another reason her parents had insisted on the lady-in-waiting, Meg realized. So that people could see her walking around in the company of another girl, doing girl things. . . . She had to admit it made a certain sense.

Resolved, Meg hopped off the fence and set off to find Pela. They could have their talk about the importance of timely princess waking while walking in the garden, and Meg would act like a regular human girl who was not at all connected to a terrifying, fire-breathing creature.

She felt Jakl stirring proudly as she thought that last part, and despite everything else, she could not help but smile.

Pela was sewing in the royal common room when Meg found her. She leaped to her feet when she saw Meg, her needlework tumbling from her lap.

“Oh, Princess! Did you want me? Normally you like to spend your mornings alone, and so I didn’t think —”

“It’s all right, Pela,” Meg said, trying to ignore the girl’s jumpiness. Pela reminded Meg of a nervous little bird. “You’re right: lately I have been spending my mornings by myself. But I thought perhaps we could begin taking some morning walks together. It would be nice to stroll in the gardens after breakfast, at least on pleasant days.”

“Oh, yes, Princess! That would be lovely. Shall we go now? I suppose it’s not really morning anymore, but it’s still early enough, don’t you think? Just let me put my sewing away.” Pela scooped up the fabric and thread from the floor and took off toward her quarters, which were, unfortunately, right across from Meg’s own. Then she stopped abruptly and turned back. “Is that all right? I don’t mean to make you wait; I could leave it here. . . .” She looked doubtfully at the chair where she’d been seated.

“No, it’s fine, Pela. Please. I need to stop by my room as well.” A few final moments to herself suddenly seemed like a very good idea. “I’ll meet you by the garden entrance, all right?”

“Yes, Princess. Of course.” Pela hesitated for a second, then seemed to understand that Meg wasn’t going to race down the hall with her. “I’ll — I’ll see you very shortly!” She turned and resumed her run.

Meg took a deep breath and walked slowly after Pela. She understood that the lady-in-waiting was supposed to be nearby in case her mistress needed her, but placing the girl right across the hall seemed a little much. Meg had never needed any of her other attendants in the middle of the night, at least not since she was Maurel’s age; what made her parents think she was going to need Pela? It was probably another instance of appearances, she supposed, to make Meg seem like a normal princess. Morgan and Maerlie had both had ladies-in-waiting in rooms next to theirs, after all. But that was different.
They
were different.

But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Meg was supposed to be more like them.

She reached her door and went quickly inside, not wanting to be standing in the hall when Pela came back out. Then she sat on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes. Her earlier rage was only a memory now, but she still felt tense, and she could safely assume Pela would do something to try her patience. She needed to try and stay calm.

Meg had known for a while now that the link tended to intensify her emotions, as Jakl felt what she was feeling and then added his own mirroring feelings to hers. Or the other way around. It could be a nice thing, when she was happy, or when he was, or when they were flying together and both of them got swept away in the joy of it. But when one of them was angry, it was . . . less nice. And lately it seemed to be getting worse.

No,
she corrected herself.
Be honest.
It
was
getting worse. Her temper was out of control, sometimes setting her off with barely any provocation at all. Sometimes, she became so full of rage, so quickly, so
unreasonably,
that she was afraid she might do something terrible. More terrible than just snapping at Maurel or screaming at her parents.

She sighed, realizing that she still had to go and apologize to them at some point.

Eyes still closed, Meg forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, the way Calen had taught her. Meg and Jakl were both still learning how to deal with the link, but the relaxation techniques seemed to help calm them. A little, anyway. When she actually remembered to use them.

Once she felt relatively centered again, Meg made her way down to the garden entrance. Pela was already there, seated on a stone bench near the doorway. She looked a little flushed; Meg suspected the girl had run full speed the entire way, just to make sure Meg would not have to wait for her.

Pela, of course, jumped up as soon as Meg appeared. “I’m ready, Princess! Shall we set out? Do you have a favorite path?”

“Pela,” Meg said. “Please. Can you just, um . . . ?”

Pela’s face fell at once. “Have I done something wrong, Princess?”

“No,” Meg said hastily. “No, of course not. Let’s just sit down a moment.” She sat on the bench and waited for Pela to sit beside her. Pela sat but still looked mortified.

“Oh, you’re dismissing me, aren’t you?” she asked miserably. “I knew I would do something wrong. I knew it. I’m sorry, Your Highness. Whatever I did, I’m very sorry. I would never have —”

“Pela!”

Pela stopped, eyes wide. “Yes, Princess?”

Meg took another deep breath. “Pela, I want you to sit there quietly for a second and just listen. All right?”

Pela nodded.

“Good. Now pay attention. I am not dismissing you. You have not done anything wrong. We’re going to start spending more time together, so we can get to know each other a bit.” Meg tried to make her voice as kind and gentle as possible. “I can see already that I’m going to like you very much.”

Pela’s face lit up instantly. She began to open her mouth, but Meg quickly reached up and put her hand over it.

“Shh. I’m not finished.” She eyed Pela seriously and did not take her hand away from the girl’s mouth. Meg was afraid that if Pela said one more thing, she’d strangle her. That would not be a good beginning to their new relationship. “I like you, Pela, but I need you to do something for me. I want you to stop trying so hard to please me. You will please me most by just being yourself. Just — just try to relax a little, all right? Can you do that for me?”

Pela nodded vigorously. Meg cautiously took her hand away. The younger girl bit her lip and seemed to be ordering her thoughts. Inside her head, instead of through her mouth, for a change. That was a good sign.