Rays of sunlight filter in through the ceiling, waking me up. I can’t tell what time it is, and clearly, I greatly underestimated the amount of morning light that would make its way into my room. Every leafy crevice is another tiny sun burrowing into my eyes.

  I sit up and rub my face. I didn’t sleep well. This bed is comfortable, and I can easily sink down into the heavy blankets, but last night my mind was run amok with chaotic worries.

  My dreams weren’t much better, either. When I finally did fall asleep, it was right into a bizarre prediction of what a wedding with The Queen would look like. Only, things kept going wrong. I couldn’t find my nice clothes, people kept talking over the reception, she couldn’t fit under the altar in her dragon form, and when it was time for the honeymoon, there were a bunch of people that would NOT get out of our room. I stare off into space, grimacing.

  I climb out of bed and resolve to check out the walk-in-closet. There’s no telling when The Queen will be here, or if she’ll even be the one to pick me up. I can’t remember half of our conversation from last night. There’s plenty of time to ruminate as I take the awkwardly long walk across my massive room.

  The walk in-closet is shockingly human-sized compared to everything else. I assume it must be because dragons only wear clothes in their bipedal forms. That train of thought leads me to wonder what actually happens to their clothes when they transform, and how they get them back. I wonder if Alcina has some kind of magical explanation for that.

  On one half of the room, the shelves and hangers are filled to the brim with human clothes. On the other side, the outfits seem more dragon-like in style, at least based on what I’ve seen around the castle. There’s a lot of loose and flowing tunics, bright colors, and sashes.

  When I turn to the human side, I take a few long, blinking seconds to comprehend what I’m seeing. Then I rub the tiredness from my eyes to make sure I’m not still dreaming. The style of clothes hung up are technically human. Only, it’s like someone took a random outfit from 100 different houses and threw them all into one place.

  I shuffle through the first few hanging clothes. There’s suits and dress pants, but also overalls, pajamas, more cloaks than shirts, even a few togas. They’re all in different sizes, too, and there’s absolutely no rhyme or reason to the organization. Whoever stocked this closet was only dimly aware of the concept of human fashion.

  In the middle of my frantic searching, I stop. It will take me hours at this rate to find a reasonable outfit. But really, do I want to wear something that will make me look more out of place than I already am?

  I turn my eyes to the dragon-fashion side of the room. Although I don’t know what’s formal, in-season, or expected of a potential king, the clothing presented to me already looks more cohesive. The patterns match, and the outfits are organized by color. Ironically, given my above average height, I’m more likely to find something that fits me among the dragon clothes, too.

  The outfits are all fairly loose, and the flowing patterns are a far cry from the rigid structure of suits and dress shirts I’m used to. The fronts are open in most of them, almost like a robe. I assume the sashes are meant to keep it closed and together.

  I try to picture exactly what the other dragons in the castle were wearing. Jayle comes to mind. He was in a warm orange tunic with no pattern, wrapped unevenly and held by a bright red sash, all beneath his scattered lightweight leather armor. If I remember correctly, his pants were also plain and dark.

  With this in mind, I try to look for something that can handle getting dirty. A blue tunic with a faint flower pattern catches my eye. It has no fancy frills and the fabric seems tough rather than silky, so I pick it out and pair it with a black sash. Jayle wore his sash crookedly, but I can’t remember if the other dragons did or not, so I default to wearing mine straight across like a belt.

  When I pick out a simple pair of brown pants, I pause. There’s an awkward flap on the backside to let a tail through. There isn’t much I can do about that, but at least it’s not showing my underwear.

  After grabbing a pair of boots, my outfit is complete, and I’ve already spent most of my mental energy for the day.

  It doesn’t take long for someone to knock on my door. Still adjusting my tunic, I hesitantly make the trek to answer. The door is almost too heavy for me to push open.

  The Queen is waiting on the other side. “Good morning!” she chirps. She looks down at my clothes and tilts her head a little. “I see you’ve found the closet. And look, we’re matching!” She points to her own blue tunic, which is a bit more casual than the one she had on yesterday.

  “I suppose we are.”

  She’s still staring at my tunic. Oh no, what does she see? Have I made a fool of myself already? “Is something wrong?” I ask. “Sorry, I don’t—I don’t know anything about dragon fashion.”

  “Oh, you did great,” she rushes. “You look fantastic. It’s just, your tunic isn’t secured correctly.”

  I look down. It does fit pretty loose and wrinkled. My face flushes. “Oh.”

  “Here, would you like me to fix it?” She reaches toward me.

  Involuntarily, I step away. “Ah—why don’t you just tell me?”

  She retracts her hand. “Oh, okay. But I’ll need to take off my tunic to demonstrate.”

  “Youknowwhatactuallythat’sokayyoucanfixmineformethanks,” the words tumble out of my mouth.

  She makes a weird face, as if suppressing a smile. “Okay. It’s not very difficult. Here.” She reaches out again, sliding her claw along the fold of my tunic. “You’ll want to smooth it out like this, then fold this part behind you.” She steps closer, taking the fabric and placing it as near as she can to the right place without undoing the sash. “Like that. Do you understand?”

  It’s hard to think when she’s this close. I can feel the sharp of her claws through the cloth. “I think so.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Great!” She steps back again, and my tunic almost falls out of place when she lets go. I scramble to keep it all together. “I’ll let you do the rest.”

  I turn around and hastily fold it correctly, wrapping the sash tight. It feels less like it’s going to fall open at a moment’s notice, but I’m not sure if it’s worth the psychic damage I took getting it that way.

  When I turn around, she gives me another smile. “There! That’s better.”

  I cross my arms. “Thank you.”

  After navigating the castle for a few minutes, we turn down a narrow hall, where the sunlight is scattered. At the very end, a log stairway shaved hastily into form is waiting for us. It’s awkward to climb, the steps just a bit taller than I’d expect them to be. The bulbs of light along the walls are small and dim, and their alcoves are absent of the time-grown moss present in the rest of the castle.

  We emerge into a larger hallway. From open windows along the curved walls, I can see features of the castle beneath us and the roofs of some lower floors. It’s all designed so a dragon could fly in and out with ease. I wonder if there’s anywhere in this castle with a window like this as the only entrance, a room entirely inaccessible to me and anyone else who can’t fly. That must have been why they built the staircases, so me and the other humans could get around more easily.

  The Queen stops at a set of guarded doors. The guards nod to us briskly, and The Queen nods back as we enter. “Welcome to the small hall!” She gestures grandly.

  The small hall is, as its name implies, not very large. It’s more of a lounge, really, with a few plush couches and short tables. The back opens into a balcony attached to the side of a huge room. Everything is human-sized, though the balcony is large enough for a dragon to land on.

  One of the low tables already has a couple of covered trays for us. A servant waiting by the couch bows. “Breakfast, your majesties.”

  “Oh, wonderful! Thank you very much.” The Queen sits down.

  “Um, thank you,” I say after her, sitting a couple of feet away on the other end of the couch. Only, now I’m also a couple of feet away from my food.

  The servant smiles and travels to the balcony, transforming and leaping off. From where we are, I can see more of the larger room. It looks like the feast hall from last night based on its size. I recognize a few of the other balconies, too.

  “Here you are.” The Queen slides my dish across the table. She opens hers, revealing a platter of eggs and bacon. “Oh! A proper human breakfast, is it not?”

  I open my platter, seeing more of the same. “I suppose so.” They seem to have forgotten my fork.

  The Queen picks up her platter and starts eating straight out of her claws. It would seem all manners of fanciness are restricted to the feast hall. Reluctantly, I pull my platter close and do the same. I can’t remember the last time I ate with my hands like this. She would have a fit if she could see me now.

  “Ashura, can I ask you something?”

  The Queen seems oddly insistent on asking whenever she wants to present me with a question. “You can ask me anything,” I clarify. “I really don’t mind.”

  “Oh, good. Are all humans so squeamish about being naked?”

  I almost choke on my eggs.

  “I mean no disrespect,” she rushes. “And I understand whether it is a personal preference or a cultural difference, but you seemed rather apprehensive to bare your chest in front of me earlier.” She tilts her head. “I hadn’t noticed that with the other humans.”

  “Ah…It’s…very cultural.” I don’t dare admit how common it actually was for other men back home to go shirtless. “We don’t really…get naked a lot in my kingdom.” I can’t control the face I’m making. Slowly, I ask, “Do dragons not care about that as much?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t see why it matters. You’ve already seen me naked.”

  “What?”

  “In my dragon form. We almost never wear clothes in our dragon forms.”

  She’s not wrong. I turn to my breakfast and try not to think about it. “I see.”

  “Well, this has been quite insightful,” she says. “I will be sure to keep my clothes on until further notice.”

  I can’t tell if she’s making a joke or not. “I appreciate it.”

  “But I can take them off for you, if you ask nicely.”

  Did I hear that right? My face flushes so red I probably look just like the bacon I’m eating. What do I say? Look at her! Laugh! Do anything!

  The Queen shuffles a little in my silence. When I glance up at her, her ears have gone flat, and she’s looking away. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

  I blink. “N-no! I mean, I thought it was funny,” I lie.

  “Are you sure? You looked uncomfortable.”

  I wave my hand as nonchalantly as I can manage. “O-oh, that’s nothing.” I cough to cover my voice crack, unable to say anything else. I try not to imagine her naked, I really do. But is it disrespectful if she brought it up in the first place?

  It’s not the idea itself that makes my skin crawl. It’s the thought of actually touching her…or her touching me…I stop the train of thought before it can progress any further.

  She stares at me for a very, very long time. Like I’m some kind of overgrown bug being examined and dissected by a scientist.

  Thank the skies, Jayle flies in. He transforms as he lands and does a dramatic roll before standing up. “My Queen! And prince.” He bows. “Permission to intrude on your conversation?”

  The Queen takes his offer before I can. “Granted. On what business?”

  “I’m bored.” He walks over and flops down on a couch across from us. “So, what are you lovebirds up to?”

  Oh, back to this again? After I thought I escaped? “Nothing,” I say.

  At the same time, The Queen says, “Discussing cultural differences.”

  “Oh! Speaking of, I have a question.” Jayle sits up and fixes his eyes on me. “Were you taught how to fight back at your castle?”

  How to fight? Where did that come from? “My father ensured I had private lessons in self defense, but I was not formally trained if that’s what you mean.” I avoided the barracks back home at all costs. Some of the other men went there occasionally to screw around, but I had my fill of those activities after the first few times I got beat up. It wasn’t targeted. A lot of people got beat up around the barracks. “Why do you ask?”

  “Lantana mentioned you were raised by a warlord, so I was curious.” He grins at us. “She talked about you a lot after dinner yesterday. It was adorable.”

  Her ears flatten again. “Jayle!”

  She talked about me?

  “Anyways, we guards tend to train in the East Grounds. There’s always extra equipment if you want to exercise, and we can give you pointers for fighting. I have a hunch your self defense techniques won’t be much use against a full-sized dragon.” He keeps talking. “And then we can spar! I love sparring. Will you spar with me?”

  I’m barely recovering from his last comment when I catch what he said. My self defense techniques won’t work on a dragon? “D-do I need to worry about being attacked here?” Was there an incident in the past I should know about?

  Jayle shrugs. “I mean, you never know.”

  “That’s quite enough, Jayle.” The Queen speaks up. “Ashura, you have no reason to feel unsafe here. There are plenty of upstanding dragons to protect you should something go wrong.”

  “Ooh, she used her queen voice.” Jayle stands up. “I’d better get going. Nice chatting with you! Think about it, why don’t you?” He waves to me and exits out the back doors.

  She sighs. “I ought to behead him.”

  “Hm.” He kind of reminds me of my oldest brother, Axel. Too loud for his own good.

  “But I do agree with him in this case. You may enjoy getting to know the other guards. They’re eager to befriend a human, since the last ones haven’t been so inclined for battle and training.” She stands up. Her platter is empty, and she wipes her claws on a set of handkerchiefs at the table. “Until then, are you ready for the gardens?”

  I’ve managed to eat most of my breakfast, so I oblige. “Yes.” I take a handkerchief after her and wipe the grease off my hands as well.