Isabella Rose's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Isabella Rose had loved the dragon rider for two years, and tonight another woman held his arm at the feast. Isabella stood by the cold stone wall and watched them. Her green eyes tracked every laugh he gave the stranger. She wanted one thing more than her own life: to be his chosen partner, bound to him for good. But she had never once told him. She had waited, sure that patience would win. Patience had won her nothing. The other woman was a dragon in human shape. She stood tall, with amber horns and a long scaled tail that swept the floor behind her. Her wings folded neat against her back. She leaned close to the rider and spoke low. He smiled. The whole hall seemed to lean toward her power. Isabella felt small in her plain dress. She had done nothing to stand out. She had let this happen. "You could just leave," a servant murmured, passing with a tray. Isabella did not leave. She gripped the wall until her nails hurt. Outside the tall windows, the rider's ice dragon rested in the courtyard. Its crystal scales caught the torchlight. Frost edged its wings. Isabella knew that dragon. She had fed it scraps for two years while the rider trained. The beast trusted her hand. No one else could touch it without a hiss. The dragon maiden noticed the ice dragon too. She crossed to the window and pressed her clawed hand to the glass. "A cold thing," she said, loud enough for all. "Beautiful, but it will never let a stranger near it. A dragon like that only bends to one it loves." The rider laughed. "No one can ride it but me." Isabella stepped forward before her fear could stop her. "That is not true," she said. The hall went quiet. Every face turned to the plain girl by the wall. "It knows me. It has known me longer than her." The dragon maiden's smile thinned. "Then show us." Isabella walked out into the cold courtyard. Her heart slammed. The ice dragon lifted its frosted head and watched her come. She held out her open hand, the way she had a thousand nights. The beast lowered its crest. It let her rest her palm on its jaw. Then it knelt, wing spread, an offer to climb. Gasps rose behind her. The rider pushed through the doorway, staring. He had never seen the dragon kneel for anyone but him. Isabella turned to face him, her hand still on the cold scales. "I have been here all along," she said. "You just never looked." The dragon maiden's eyes narrowed to slits. She had lost the room, and she knew it. The rider crossed the courtyard toward Isabella, his face open with shock and something warmer. But the dragon maiden did not retreat. She watched Isabella with a hunter's patience, and Isabella understood she had made an enemy who did not forgive.