Princess Willowyn's Arc

Chapter 62 of 70

The bowstring creaked. Willowyn held her hands high and steady above the dragon's neck. "We bring peace," she called again. "We only needed to land." The dragon dropped low, wings spread wide over the hedges. Riders spilled through the gate below. One horse reared as the great white shape swept past. The archer took aim at the dragon's chest. Willowyn brought the dragon down hard in the garden. She slid from the harness before he fully settled. Her boots hit cold stone. The minx clawed at her cloak and slipped free. A rider dismounted and seized her arm, fingers biting into her wrist. "Let go," she said. The minx dropped to the ground, darted up the man's leg, and sank its teeth into his forearm. He shouted and released her. Another rider drew his sword. Willowyn pulled water from a garden fountain and held it coiled at her side, ready. She did not want to fight. But she would not be dragged. "Enough of this." The voice cut across the garden. A young man strode from the castle steps, cloak dark blue behind him, one hand resting on the sword at his hip. He did not draw it. "Put your weapons down. Ease your bows." The riders lowered their heads and obeyed at once. The archer dropped his aim. Willowyn let her coil of water fall back into the fountain. The young prince stopped a few paces from her. His pale green eyes moved from her circlet to the dragon and back. He studied the creature the way a person studies weather. "I am Atticus," he said. "This is Graystone Castle. My house." He nodded toward the dragon. "I have never seen one before. And I have never seen a woman ride down out of the sky." Willowyn scooped up the minx and pressed it to her neck. "I meant no harm. I lost my way." Her voice held steady. "I am Willowyn. I stop wars. I did not come to start one in your garden." Atticus tilted his head. Something in her name reached him. "The elven princess who parts rivers," he said slowly. "We have heard of you, even here." He looked past the walls, toward the dark hills. Wind snapped the banners on the spires. Far off, thunder rolled. "A storm is coming in fast," Atticus said. "I don't know your business, and I don't need to tonight. But you can't fly through that." He gestured to the castle doors. "Stay. Rest your dragon. We'll speak in the morning." Willowyn looked at the dragon, at the closing sky, at the man who had called off the bows with a word. She thought of the King and Queen of Allorie waiting across the sea, of the door she still had to face. She could not reach them through the storm. "I accept," she said. The first rain struck the stones. Willowyn followed Atticus inside, safe, welcomed, and grounded in a kingdom she had never meant to find.