Jahree walked his rounds through the quiet halls of the manor, his polished boots mak-ing soft echoes on the stone floor. The grand party had long since ended, the laughter and clinking glasses replaced by a heavy silence. Most of the guests had already left, while a few stragglers remained, lost in sleep behind closed doors. Yet, his shift wasn’t over, and he still had to patrol—unfortunately, in his formal dress uniform, which itched at his neck and weighed heavy on his shoulders. He muttered a curse under his breath, adjusting the stiff collar. He couldn’t wait to be done with this shift. Lanni appeared from around a corner, her servant’s uniform neat and simple compared to the finery of the guests. Her presence brought a strange comfort he couldn’t quite put into words. She smiled softly as she handed him a small bundle—a couple of sandwiches wrapped in a napkin. “Here,” she said, her tone casual as though it were a normal occurrence to be offering food at this hour. Jahree frowned, taking the sandwiches. “What are you doing?” “My job,” she replied lightly. “You still need to eat.” “But you’re a princess,” Jahree protested, keeping his voice low, glancing around as if someone might overhear. It felt weird pointing it out. She didn’t act like a princess—at least not the way people imagined one would. “And I’m also the cook.” Lanni shrugged, unbothered. “They didn’t fire me, so that means I’ve still got work to do.” “But…” “No buts,” she interrupted firmly, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “You’re on duty, so you need to eat. And you’ll eat well. It’s leftovers from the party.” Jahree opened his mouth to argue again, but she cut him off with a playful grin. “Keep saying ‘but,’ and I’ll think you’re talking about last night.” He froze for a moment, feeling the heat rise in his face. They hadn’t really spoken about last night. He wasn’t sure what to say. Lanni waved him off before he could say anything, turning on her heel. “Let me get these out to the others, and then we can talk.” As she disappeared down the hall, Jahree bit into the sandwich. It was surprisingly good—rich, flavorful meat and cheese on a fresh roll. He ate most of the first sandwich before Lanni returned, this time walking slower, her expression more serious. “I need to apologize for last night,” she said softly, standing closer than she had be-fore. Her usual confidence seemed to falter. “It wasn’t you I was mad at. It was me. I left because I needed to clear my head. Things were moving too quickly.” Jahree looked down, sighing. “I know. You’re a dragon. I was raised by dragons. I get it.” “I’m half-dragon,” Lanni corrected gently. “And I still can’t—” she hesitated, biting her lip, “—I still can’t sleep with someone without bonding. It’s part of me, part of what I am. I should have told you that before things went so far. I don’t think you’re looking for a commitment, and I can’t have it any other way.” Jahree shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if I wanted a commitment or not. I’m not the kind of person you’d want to bond with.” “Who says?” Lanni challenged a fiery glint in her eyes. “I know enough about dragons to know I’m not the one you’d want as a mate.” “Why not?” She pressed, stepping closer. “Tell me.” He hesitated. His throat tightened. He didn’t want to lose her friendship, but she de-served to know the truth. Lanni’s voice softened. “I could always talk to Tey. I used to babysit him, you know.” He looked at her, searching her face to see if she was joking, but her expression was sincere. She went on, her voice steady but filled with a strange nostalgia. “Grandpa Nim was more than my mentor. He was a friend. I introduced him to Grandma Jo. When they died, we took in their youngest—Tey’s dad.” Jahree frowned, taken aback by the shift in the conversation. “We?” “My husband, Andy, and I,” Lanni explained, her voice soft, almost apologetic. Jahree blinked, doing a double-take. “Husband? You’re married?” “Widowed,” she corrected, “twice.” His stomach dropped. “Twice? Most dragons don’t survive the loss of one bond. You’ve had two?” Lanni’s face was calm but sad as she nodded. “Three, actually. Kith and I had bonded strongly, even though we hadn’t mated. He was killed in Lerjao, by an immortal. Rola... he died in the Raklar massacre. We’d only been married a few years. It was a shock. But I wouldn’t mind trying for a fourth if he were willing,” she added, her voice tentative. Jahree shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. “Not if you knew him.” “Then tell me,” Lanni pleaded. “I will find out one way or another. Isn’t it better if you’re the one to tell me?” He sighed, his hands growing cold despite the warmth of the hall. He picked at the second sandwich but had lost his appetite. “Fine,” he muttered. “The other day when you told Shri my name was foreign, you weren’t wrong. It’s Tamareen. My parents and I were refugees from Tameria. We got sick after we arrived, and they didn’t make it. I was taken in by Tey and Sai’s foster home. But after a few years, I was adopted by a couple who—well, they seemed nice enough at first.” Lanni’s gaze never wavered. “But?” “They used us as thieves,” Jahree continued, his voice bitter. “We were kids—small enough to fit into places adults couldn’t. I knew it was wrong, but if we didn’t do it, they’d hurt us. Then they wanted me to rob Tey and Sai’s home. I couldn’t do it, but I knew if I didn’t, someone else would. So I tried. Got caught, though. Afterward, my par-ents beat me, and I got arrested.” He paused, his jaw clenched. “When the guards found out what was happening, the kids and I were pardoned. But we were split up, sent to different homes. I went back with Tey and Sai.” Lanni listened quietly, her face calm but sympathetic. “A few years later, I was adopted again,” Jahree said, his voice lower now. “The man abused me, but I didn’t know what to do. Then he adopted another boy. I couldn’t let him hurt him too. I tried to stop him. We struggled, and he fell. The guards think he hit his head, but the truth is... I hit him. And I killed him.” Lanni’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. “I ran after that,” Jahree admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “Lived on the streets for a while. But Papa Tey always found me. Kept bringing me back. It took me a long time to trust him again.” Lanni was quiet for a long moment before she spoke. “That doesn’t make me not want to be with you.” “I’m a thief and a murderer,” Jahree said sharply, his voice full of self-loathing. “Isn’t that enough?” “No,” Lanni replied, her tone gentle but firm. “And I think there’s more.” Jahree’s voice was heavy with guilt as he confessed, “He wasn’t the only one I killed.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air as he continued, “After every-thing that happened, I felt so alone. The only one of my foster siblings I ever felt close to was the other one adopted by that monster.” His eyes lowered as he spoke, recalling the dark path he had taken. “Eventually, I decided women were a good way to avoid that feeling. There were more than I should admit.” He paused, memories flooding back before continuing, “And then there was this one. We’d been together longer than most. She would sleep with me but never wanted to stay at my place. It hurt. I started feeling like maybe she thought she was better than me.” "I couldn't handle the rejection," Jahree's voice cracked with emotion. "I started pushing her and she gave in and died because of it, because of me." Lanni's heart ached for Jahree as she asked, "What happened?" "She had a lung defect and had trouble breathing," Jahree explained, her voice trembling. "She wasn't supposed to use a regular mattress. She suffocated in her sleep." His shoul-ders slumped with the weight of his regret. "It turned out her dad was a cousin of the monster who'd adopted me. I hadn't known that or I wouldn't have ever spoken to her." Jahree closed his eyes, reliving the pain and betrayal all over again. "He had me arrested for murder. Because I'd already killed someone, they decided it was intentional and I was convicted of murdering her." Silence hung between them for a moment before Jahree added bitterly, "Because it was my second murder, I should have been executed but the judge gave me ten years of ser-vice instead because the first time I was just a kid." Lanni reached out, offering a simple, “I’m sorry.” Jahree’s expression turned to a frown, his gaze dropping. “Don’t be. Although I didn’t directly cause her death, my arrogance had played its part. If I had been less pride-ful, maybe things would have ended differently.” Lanni shook her head, her voice firm. “That’s not what I was apologizing for. A few years ago, Tey sought my assistance in a legal matter concerning one of his sons—which I now presume was you. My duties here made it impossible for me to represent you in person, but I consulted on the case. I appealed directly to the prince-general, arguing passionately for your innocence, stating that you could not be held accountable for an un-foreseen medical complication you were unaware of. I insisted that miscarrying justice on such grounds was unconscionable.” “But I persuaded her to stay over at my place,” Jahree insisted, his voice rippling with frustration. “Did you coerce her in any way? Threaten her?” Lanni probed further, her eyes searching for truth in her friend’s. Jahree’s scowl deepened, his indignation visible. “No, absolutely not. I’d never resort to such means,” he affirmed with conviction. “There’s no justification for a guilty verdict then. I regret not being present dur-ing your trial; perhaps my presence could have altered the outcome. I’m sorry. As it was, this is the best I could do, convince them that service was better than prison.” “It’s probably just as well,” Jahree mused grimly. “If they’d found me not guilty, I probably would have been killed. The girl’s father was not happy I wasn’t locked up. The night before I was supposed to report for duty they attacked me, beat me worse than anything I’d ever had before.” “Are those scars a result of that ambush?” Lanni asked thinking back to the scars that had covered his body the other night. “Yes. The local healer in Thager, Midta, was unable to treat them at the time. Since then, I’ve managed to scrape together enough coin to afford a healer for my face but nothing more.” “Maybe I can talk with Loka,” Lanni offered, considering the possibility of seek-ing further assistance. “Don’t worry about it,” Jahree dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m glad Pa-pa Tey showed up otherwise who knows how far they would have gone.” “Did Tey witness the attack? Were the assailants apprehended?” Lanni ques-tioned, hope flickering in her eyes for some measure of justice. Jahree nodded with a heavy sigh. “But I can’t go back to Thager anymore. Not after everything that happened. Those who were arrested didn’t receive much prison time. If they see me back in town, they won’t hesitate to finish what they started. I can’t even go to visit my family without risking my life.” Lanni took his hand, her eyes filled with a resolve that was both comforting and convincing. “We’ll get you back there safely, Jahree. I have the ability to transport us—you know that. We won’t have to take a single step outside in Thager. They won’t have a chance to see you.” Jahree’s expression was conflicted as he shook his head. “I can’t ask that of you. It’s too dangerous, and it’s not your fight.” Lanni smiled gently, her grip on his hand firm. “Funny, I don’t remember you asking me for anything. As I recall, it was me who offered to help without being asked,” she said with a chuckle. “That’s what you do for friends, you offer.” “But why would you offer anything?” Jahree asked, a frown creasing his brow. “Especially to someone like me—why?” Lanni’s smile turned soft yet earnest as she replied, “Because that’s what friends do for each other. Plus, if I’m ever going to hope for the chance to be more than just a friend to you, I have to make an active effort. I want to show you that I can be someone worth considering as more than just a casual fling or someone to sleep with.” Jahree stopped in his tracks, genuine shock painting his features. “What? Why would you want that?” “I want that,” Lanni said with a heartfelt intensity, “because I see more in you than what you’ve done in the past. People change, they grow. And so have you. I see it, even if you can’t right now.” “After all the darkness I’ve brought with me?” Jahree’s voice was barely a whis-per, laden with disbelief and the weight of his past. “Yes,” Lanni affirmed, “even after all that. Everyone deserves a chance at some-thing real, something better. And I believe you do too. “You aren’t a healer. You couldn’t know about her health issues; she never told you. I insisted that their accusations were unfounded,” Lanni reminded Jahree with a gentle firmness etched in her voice. “But what about the rest? What about all the other women?” Jahree persisted, the worry clear in his voice. He was searching for reassurance, for some semblance of re-demption in the complexity of his past encounters. “I won’t tolerate you cheating on me but the past is the past,” Lanni declared, a note of finality in her tone as she sought to draw a line under Jahree’s previous transgres-sions. Jahree started to interject, “But—” Lanni cut him off, her voice softened with empathy, “I understand, you faced hardships. You left everything you knew to come to an entirely new world; after that, you suffered the profound loss of your parents. The subsequent adoptions and the repeated loss of those placements only compounded your troubles. It’s no wonder, given that each subsequent home was less stable and more troubled than the last; it’s not surprising you struggled.” Jahree, still wrestling with guilt, brought up another dark part of his past, “And what about the theft?” “You were granted a pardon for that crime,” Lanni reminded him with a hint of comfort, trying to alleviate the weight of his guilt. “Yes, but that was only because I was a child at the time. The fact remains—I did commit the theft,” Jahree confessed, unable to shake off the responsibility for his ac-tions despite the legal absolution he had received. His conscience held on to the fact that, irrespective of circumstance, he had committed the crimes “It doesn’t matter,” Lanni said as she pressed a delicate kiss onto Jahree’s cheek, her lips brushing against his skin fleetingly, a comforting warmth in her gesture. “The adults who were responsible for you are to blame for what happened.” “But, Lanni… or should I call you Princess Ann?” Jahree asked, his tone dipping somewhere between teasing and hesitant. The question hung in the air, a reminder of the delicate balance between them—what they were and what they weren’t. “Call me Lanni, please,” she said, her voice steady, though there was a softness in it, a plea that he not put distance between them with titles or formalities. He cocked his head, an eyebrow raised. “Or should I call you ‘Your Highness?’” Lanni’s face tightened, her frown instant and unguarded. “No. I hate that.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper, as if even saying it aloud made her uncomfortable. “I’d have to claim you as family so you wouldn’t.” Jahree blinked, momentarily taken aback by the remark. “How are we family?” he pressed, the absurdity of it coaxing a reluctant smile from him. He couldn’t help but feel amused by the way she stretched logic. “Morina’s sister was Nim’s foster mother,” she said matter-of-factly. Jahree laughed outright this time, shaking his head. “That’s one of the biggest stretches I’ve ever heard. How far back are you going to reach?” Lanni’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “Would you want to kiss family?” she asked, not waiting for an answer as she leaned in and planted a quick, playful kiss on his lips. The brief contact sent a jolt through Jahree, but before he could react further, an-other voice interrupted them. “Knock it off, Lanni. He’s on duty,” a gruff voice scolded from the shadows, making Jahree jump. Kritalla stood at the far end of the hall with arms crossed, eyes narrowed in mock disapproval. Lanni withdrew with a chuckle. “Yes, Grandpa,” she said, her teasing tone still lingering, though she took a step back as though conceding her mischief. Kritalla’s stern facade crumbled slightly as he cringed. “I’m going to pay for that ‘Grandpa,’ aren’t I?” Lanni’s smile deepened, playful but knowing. Kritalla shook his head with a sigh. “When you’re done distracting your chosen,” he emphasized the word with a raised eyebrow, “we need to speak with you in Trema’s office.” Lanni’s playful expression faltered slightly. “He’s not my chosen—yet,” she add-ed quickly, her voice a little sharper than intended. Kritalla smirked knowingly. “Could’ve fooled me.” Lanni gave him a sharp look but didn’t argue. “I’ll be there in a moment,” she promised, her tone slipping back into its usual calm. Kritalla gave a curt nod, casting a last glance at Jahree before disappearing down the corridor, his footsteps fading into the distance. Jahree let out a slow breath, unsure of what to make of the exchange. Before he could speak, Lanni turned back to him, her expression more serious now. The teasing was gone, replaced by something more grounded. “What you told me doesn’t scare me off,” she said quietly, her gaze holding his with unwavering determination. “I’m hoping you’ll consider a relationship with me. But... I need to tell you about my past too. And see if you can handle it.” Jahree blinked, caught off guard. He’d already told her everything—things he’d never wanted to share with anyone, and yet here she was, suggesting that her own past was just as heavy. “What is it?” he asked, his voice quiet, unsure if he wanted to know the answer but compelled to ask all the same. “There isn’t time now,” Lanni replied, glancing in the direction Kritalla had gone. “And it’s something better discussed in private. But… ask Tellic about Drepal.” Jahree frowned in confusion. “Drepal? What’s that?” Lanni met his gaze, her eyes carrying a weight of their own. “Ask Tellic,” she re-peated, her voice firmer this time, as if pushing the conversation beyond where it could go right now. Before Jahree could protest, she stepped forward and kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. It was as if she was leaving something unsaid, something that lingered between them, unspoken but powerful. The kiss ended too soon, and she pulled away, giving him one last glance before following Kritalla down the hall. Jahree stood there, staring after her, his mind spinning with questions. Drepal. The word echoed in his head, unfamiliar and unsettling. Whatever her past held, it was clear it wouldn’t be simple. But the way she had spoken to him, with such certainty and openness, made him wonder—could he handle her truth? And more than that, did he want to? #fantasy, #magic, #dragons, #hiddenlands