Rowan remained silent for a few seconds after her last sentence.
Mine.
The word still felt strange in his mind.
The dragon continued watching.
Unhurried.
With no sign that it was about to attack… but also no intention of looking away.
She, on the other hand, seemed completely calm.
As if the situation were the most ordinary thing in the world.
After a moment, she simply turned and began walking again.
Without saying anything.
As if she expected Rowan to follow.
Rowan didn't move immediately.
The dragon was still there.
Very close.
Vaerith kept one eye open, following every small movement he made.
Rowan felt the weight of that gaze.
The strange sensation of being studied by something that wasn't human… but clearly wasn't stupid.
He took a step.
Slowly.
The effect was immediate.
The dragon's head shifted slightly.
Not much.
But enough to make it clear the movement had been noticed.
The pupil narrowed.
Rowan stopped.
Behind him, she stopped walking as well.
She turned her head just a little.
Watching the scene.
A small smile appeared again.
— Interesting.
Rowan glanced quickly at her.
— What?
— He's curious.
Rowan looked back at the dragon.
— Is that good?
— Depends.
She crossed her arms.
— Normally he's curious about only two things.
A small pause.
— Food…
— …or something he hasn't decided whether to kill yet.
Rowan let out a small breath.
— Reassuring.
She laughed softly.
— Keep walking.
Rowan hesitated for only another second.
Then he started moving again.
He passed several meters ahead of the dragon.
Vaerith lifted his head a little more now, following the human's movement with a lazy sort of attention.
Like an enormous cat watching something that moved.
Rowan could feel the creature's gaze on his back.
Even without turning his head.
After a few steps, she walked beside him again.
The silence lasted a while.
Then she asked:
— Aren't you afraid?
Rowan answered without looking at her.
— I am.
She raised an eyebrow.
— But you don't run.
— It wouldn't help.
She let out a small amused breath.
— Honesty.
A pause.
— Rare.
They continued walking between the tents.
Some soldiers discreetly stopped what they were doing to watch the two of them pass.
Rowan noticed.
But ignored it.
After a few steps, she spoke again.
— Are you a good fighter?
Rowan took a moment before answering.
— I'm alive.
She looked at him sideways.
— That doesn't answer the question.
Rowan shrugged.
— In large battles… surviving is usually enough.
She remained silent for a few seconds.
Then said:
— I saw you in the field.
Rowan looked at her.
— You did?
— I did.
She made a small motion in the air, as if drawing invisible lines.
— You changed the formations.
A pause.
— Before the second dive.
Rowan said nothing.
She continued watching him.
— Most men were too busy running.
— Or dying.
Another pause.
— You were watching the wings.
Rowan answered calmly:
— Someone had to.
She stopped walking.
Rowan took two more steps before noticing and stopping as well.
When he turned back to her, he saw she was studying him more closely now.
Not with amusement.
With evaluation.
— You noticed when he lost speed, — she said.
— Slightly.
— Still, you noticed.
Rowan replied:
— It was enough.
Silence lingered for a few seconds.
Behind them, Vaerith released a heavy breath of hot air.
She glanced briefly toward the dragon.
Then returned her gaze to Rowan.
— Perhaps you're more interesting than I thought.
Rowan replied calmly:
— That usually doesn't end well for me.
The small smile returned to her face.
— We'll see.
Then, without saying anything else, she turned and began walking again.
But this time not toward the tents.
She was heading toward a more open part of the camp.
Rowan noticed after a few steps.
The ground there began to open up — packed dirt, scarred by hundreds of footprints and blade marks. Wooden stakes marked the boundaries of a wide space where several soldiers trained or tested weapons.
An improvised fighting ground.
Rowan slowed slightly.
— Where are we going?
She answered without turning back.
— I want to see something.
— What?
— Whether you were just lucky.
Rowan said nothing.
They kept walking.
It didn't take long for the men in the field to notice her presence.
Conversations quieted.
Some soldiers straightened their posture.
Others stopped completely.
But it wasn't only her drawing attention.
It was Rowan.
The looks that began curious quickly hardened.
More judging.
More hostile.
Some men exchanged glances.
Others frowned.
An enemy walking beside the dragon rider… as if he belonged to the camp.
It did not sit well with them.
She entered the field without hesitation.
The soldiers naturally stepped aside.
Rowan followed a few steps behind.
She stopped in the center of the packed earth.
Turned to him.
— Sword.
Rowan blinked.
— What?
She pointed to a nearby rack of weapons.
— Take one.
Rowan walked over and picked up a simple training sword.
The weight felt familiar in his hand.
When he returned, the soldiers were watching openly now.
Murmurs began.
— Is he going to fight?
— With her?
— That can't be serious…
One of the men stepped forward.
He stood out easily among the others.
His armor was different.
Better.
Polished steel reflected the morning light sharply, each piece fitted as if it had been made specifically for him. The lines of the breastplate sat perfectly across his shoulders and torso.
Not the gear of a common soldier.
A noble's armor.
The man removed the helmet tucked under his arm and spoke in a firm voice.
— My lady.
She looked at him.
Not surprised.
— What is it, Ser?
He inclined his head slightly.
Respectful.
But not submissive.
— With all due respect…
His gaze passed briefly over Rowan.
A quick assessment.
Contained contempt.
— I do not believe it is appropriate for you to cross blades with a man like that.
The field grew quieter.
She raised an eyebrow.
— A man like that?
The noble continued, maintaining his calm posture.
— A prisoner.
Another short pause.
— And clearly not a man of standing.
He gestured slightly toward Rowan.
— He is no noble.
Some soldiers murmured quietly.
The man looked back at her.
— If you wish to train, I am here.
He rested a hand on the hilt of his own sword.
— And I believe I would be a more worthy opponent.
Rowan remained silent.
Watching.
She looked at the noble for several seconds.
Then at Rowan.
Then back to the noble again.
A small smile slowly appeared on her face.
— You think he isn't worthy.
The noble answered immediately.
— I believe you deserve better.
Her smile widened slightly.
— Interesting.
She then stepped two paces to the side.
Opening the center of the field.
— Very well.
The noble's eyes lit briefly.
But she continued:
— Then fight him.
His smile disappeared.
For a moment.
She pointed slightly toward Rowan.
— If he isn't worthy…
A pause.
— You shouldn't have any difficulty.
The entire field fell silent.
Every eye now fixed on Rowan.
And the noble.