“{...absolutely ridiculous, Synthra! In the middle of the Guild Hall at that, in front of who knows how many watching eyes from the Aristocracy!}”

  Leonidas leaned against the wall of Sinalthria’s office with his arms folded, eyes moving from the stern guild mistress to her daughter, sitting with her hands folded in her lap and shoulders hunched in mortification as her mother dressed her down. Typically, he’d have felt some measure of empathy or concern, but in this case, he was quite content to watch things unfold.

  She had punched him in the nose.

  Because he had helped arrest her fall.

  When Synthra opened her mouth to reply to her mother, Sinalthria threw her hands up. “{I can read you like a book, daughter! I can see the stubborn set of your jaw! You look just like I did at your age, except prettier and twice as stubborn! Honestly, I wish your Father were here. I have no idea how to deal with this. A punch, Synthra? Truly? You punched an Earl! You punched an Archon!}”

  “{He groped me!}” Synthra finally snapped, her cheeks enflaming as Leonidas’ eyebrows shot toward his hairline. Was she blushing because she knew it wasn’t true? That was downright dastardly!

  “{I did not grope you,}” Leonidas cut in sharply, his eyes settling flatly on Synthra in a bubble of aggravation. “{I saw you falling, and so I acted as any gentleman should, and sought to prevent your embarrassment. Should I have allowed you to slam face-first into the marble, instead?}”

  Synthra turned to him, as did Sinalthria, when he spoke—but it was the younger of the mother-daughter fantasy pair that replied to him, her tone acidic.

  “{I am not some weak damsel in need of your saving, Black Knight! I am the Daughter of Dragons! I am the Sorceress of the Everflame! You dare to pursue me, and then pretend to my fragility? If you truly wish me to yield, then you are chasing a delusion! I will never yield to you!}”

  “{Synthra!}” Sinalthria said with a tone that mildly confused Leonidas. It sounded exasperated and amused at the same time, not upset, not any longer. He felt as though he’d missed something, but was too momentarily annoyed to care.

  “{It is true, mother!}” Synthra shot back, pushing herself to her feet and pointing her left hand at Leonidas accusingly. “{Ever since you consented to this arrogant madman’s crack-brained scheme to make me his, I have been trying to make it clear to him that I will never surrender!}”

  Is she still pissed off about my desire for a rematch? Christ above, this has gone too far.

  “{If the idea of my victory is so unpalatable, Synthra of the Everflame, then consider the desire recanted. I have neither time nor energy to deal with this insanity.}”

  Synthra stared at Leonidas when he spoke, and Sinalthria joined her, both women watching him with a mix of shock and disbelief—until that joint emotion morphed quickly into shared anger, though it was Synthra who took the lead.

  “{How DARE you!}” she snarled at him, turning and marching toward him with that hip-rolling walk that damn near made him slam headfirst into a pillar on their way to the office. It was like she’d turned her legs and hips into weapons! It was completely unfair.

  “{What—what are you talking about?}” he demanded while refocusing, and strangling his hormones mentally. “{You are so evidently displeased by my challenge, so I will simply withdraw it and—}”

  “{Devalue me! Imply me to be broken! Cast me aside like an unwanted, defective store item!}” Synthra said angrily to his face, one manicured nail poking his shirt. She smelled faintly of woodsmoke, coconut, and vanilla—a combination he found distractingly alluring. “{No, Earl Latherian, you most certainly will not! You made a commitment, and you will see it through, no matter how nonexistent your chances are. You will pursue me, you self-important scoundrel, and you will do so with passion and vigor! I deserve nothing less!}”

  Sinalthria nodded gravely from behind her desk, and finally chimed in while Leonidas was still trying to understand what the hell was so important about a duel.

  “{You have made a public declaration, Earl Latherian. To revoke it now would imply that my daughter is damaged material, or somehow unworthy of your attention. That is not something I can accept. You have made the commitment to pursue her as yours. You must see it through.}”

  Leonidas felt his brain roll through another confused hamster wheel of consideration, before the wheel abruptly screeched to a halt, and exploded in his head.

  Pursue. Chase. Seek. Take. Claim.

  Leonidas’ eyes widened, and he groaned loudly when he realized what had happened.

  “{I… truly, Achilles, it is not that bad…}” Synthra said while staring up at him, in a voice that sounded for all the world like she was genuinely hurt!

  “I am going to speak in English,” Leonidas said before either of them could speak again, and took a breath while holding up his hands, one for each of the dragon-blooded women. For Synthra, it was almost in her face, and she momentarily looked at it cross-eyed before refocusing on him. “Is that alright? Can you both understand me?”

  “We can,” Synthra answered for them both, looking mildly confused.

  “You can reply in Haelfennyr if you can’t, or if you don’t know the word you wanna use, but I’m gonna speak my native tongue so there’s no very goddamn awkward misunderstandings, okay?”

  Both Sinalthria and Synthra glanced at one another in a picture-perfect mother-daughter look of ‘What is he going on about?’ before turning back and nodding. Curiosity seemed to have momentarily replaced outrage, because Synthra even stepped back a few paces—thank God—and settled her manicured right hand on her hip, cocking it in a faintly distracting way as she awaited his words.

  “It never occurred to me before this moment, honestly, because I genuinely never thought it would be possible for there to be a misunderstanding of this magnitude,” Leonidas said while reaching up to rub his hands on his face. It all made so, so much more sense now—a truly awful, truly horrifying amount of sense.

  “When I spoke to you after our match, Guild Mistress, what precisely did I say? I don’t need the word-for-word, just your understanding of it.”

  Sinalthria raised her eyebrow at his words, and Synthra looked momentarily annoyed, but just shrugged at her mother a little, who glanced from her daughter back to Leonidas.

  “You said you would pursue and conquer my daughter and heir, and make her submit to you. It was bold, as you humans say, for one of your kind—but being Ceruviel’s Squire, I would expect nothing less. You and Synthra would make astoundingly powerful children.”

  “{MOTHER!}”

  “{Oh come now, dear, it is hardly a false state—}”

  “Ahem!” Leonidas said, cutting off the pair before they could devolve into an argument, and drawing a mutual look of surprise and annoyance from mother and daughter. “Sorry for cutting into what looks like a ritual for you two terrifying ladies—” the flattery, at least, seemed to soothe them when they both nodded in a self-satisfied manner “—for a moment, but I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

  Both Sinalthria and Synthra narrowed their eyes at his words, and Sinalthria’s tail flicked behind her.

  “Explain, Achilles,” the Guild Mistress commanded firmly.

  Leonidas hesitated for a moment at her words and paused to consider how dangerous a line he might be treading. Ceruviel had warned him, vaguely, about how proud and powerful Sinalthria was. While he was relatively sure she wouldn’t actually harm him, he also wasn’t entirely sure that Ceruviel would care if she beat him a little. He needed to be very cautious.

  “I learned a very, er, old—” he’d almost said archaic before realizing how niche the word was “—form of Haelfennyr. Old enough, in fact, that Ceruviel told me I sounded like the child of an ancient Royal bloodline. The reasons for that are somewhat immaterial right now, but the point is that I tend to be… misunderstood.”

  Leonidas looked between them both as Sinalthria’s tail-swish became slightly sharper, and then continued.

  “When I was speaking to you after my match with Synthra, Guild Mistress, I was speaking to you as a duelist demanding a rematch,” he said quickly, in order to rip off the proverbial band-aid. “I was requesting the right to, basically, beat Synthra in the ring. There is a sport called wrestling here on Terra, where two people grapple for victory, and the winner is the one who forces the other party to admit defeat using a restraint hold of some sort.”

  Leonidas looked between them as both their expressions turned rapidly from focused intensity to sheer bewilderment.

  “...you said you wanted to conquer me, put me on my back, and compel my surrender to you for your satisfaction,” Sythra said slowly, her eyes staring holes into him. “Are you telling me, Achilles, that you said those things in the context of a fucking duel?”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Leonidas paused for a beat to process what she had said—it did sound exceptionally provocative—and then gave Synthra an awkward smile, nod, and wince.

  “Oh dear,” Sinalthria said while sounding a mix between troubled and amused. “Oh, Divines, what a situation we find ourselves in. Synthra has been going out of her mind over you, Achilles, wondering when you would press your claim, and the entire time, you just wanted a duel? Oh, Dragons of Eld! Ha! Hahaha!”

  Synthra and Leonidas both turned to Sinalthria in surprise when she started laughing, and Synthra stared at her mother as if she’d gone mad.

  “{Why are you laughing at a time like this, mother?! This is not a laughing matter! He deceived us!}”

  “I did not!” Leonidas protested.

  “{You did!}” Synthra insisted.

  Sinalthria waved a hand before Leonidas could retort again, creating a slight pop in the air while pausing for a moment to hitch in a steadying breath. When both he and Synthra paused to look at her, she cleared her throat and shook her head.

  “{My daughter, he did not deceive us. The poor boy. Synthra, this poor boy. He thought you were just combat rivals—he probably just sought to humble you a touch after your match, out of competitive spirit! Yet, this whole time, we were wondering why he never came to pursue his claim on you. We thought perhaps it was nerves, or impotence, or something else—but truly, Achilles, you never even knew what you had committed to.}”

  “{...I never thought it was impotence,}” Synthra muttered with a blush, and gave Leonidas a mix between an apologetic look and a glare, all at once.

  This woman is as confusing as a relabelled Rubik’s Cube.

  “{This does leave us with quite the conundrum, however,}” Sinalthria said with a tone of delicate consideration that immediately made Leonidas wary. He’d heard that tone before, in Ceruviel, his mother, Kairi, and every other woman that had ever backed him into a corner he didn’t know he was being herded toward. “{Because the current public perception, Achilles, is that you are quite determinedly pursuing my daughter.}”

  “We can just clarify that it was a misunder—”

  “{No,}” Synthra cut in before he could finish, and caused his head to snap back to her. He was going to get whiplash at this rate. “{Whether or not this was a… a misunderstanding, Achilles, is irrelevant. What I said earlier, regardless of your intentions, remains true. We are not from your Terra. I have read your histories and spoken at length to your people. I know about your ‘modern way’, but that is not ours. You come from a society that has developed past the fear of predation and social expectation—we do not. Neither do you, really, anymore.}”

  “You’re worried about what people will think if I walk back my perceived proposal?” he ventured as a guess, thinking back to his knowledge of Regency Era social views, which seemed a very close analogy for specifically Alteran culture.

  “{She is,}” Sinalthria confirmed, while Synthra watched him with unreadable eyes and idly folded her lips in thought. “{My daughter is not a landed noble, Achilles, but her father was a Bannerlord—and a Marquis. She is a daughter of noble stock, and if you cease your pursuit of her, it will mark her as damaged.}”

  “Synthra could make a declaration saying she does not desire me, and I could accept her rejection when she—”

  Sinalthria slashed her tail to silence him mid-sentence, abruptly, with enough force to create a crack in the air. Leonidas caught the hint and closed his jaw with a ‘click’, smiling at her in cautious deference.

  “{The problem—}” the half-dragon Guild Mistress said with a mildly terrifying gleam in her eyes, reminding him she was almost as powerful as Ceruviel and Uriel, “{—is that you are an Earl, Achilles, and a Strategic Keystone Adventurer. Rejecting you would not look logical, and given Alteran social norms, your acceptance of that rejection would look like precisely what it is: a contrived means to end an unwanted entanglement. However, because of who you are and who your Mentor is, nobody would ever believe you entered into said arrangement via an accident of translation.}”

  “{...they would think I am damaged, impure, or otherwise tarnished,}” Synthra muttered, her manicured nails rising to tease through her hair and ruffle it in frustration at the situation. Leonidas noticed she was blushing as she did, and that the action allowed her to hide her face from him while turning to pace away toward Sinalthria’s window-view of the Guild’s various training grounds behind the main hall.

  “{I care little for what people think of my family, Achilles,}” Sinalthria said while watching Synthra, and turned back to Leonidas, who met her gaze respectfully. “{But I also know that Synthra had hoped to re-establish her father’s prestige, and I know it would have meant the world to my mate. Whether by accident or not, the perceived reality is that you have expressed a desire to make my daughter yours. In some ways, this is a better path for both of you; you can move forward knowing that we have passed the point of no return.}”

  “Guild Mistress, if I may?” Leonidas asked, while glancing at Synthra, who looked back toward him with her face still mostly hidden behind her fiery hair.

  Sinalthria eyed him, but nodded, and Leonidas took a breath.

  “Synthra is a beautiful woman,” he said honestly, causing the younger dragoness to still as he spoke. She was much more than just beautiful, he could quietly admit to himself, and had come to his defense even if she was a little insane. “More than that, she is brilliant and fiercely independent. I saw that brilliance on display when she helped save me after my tribulation. It’s also why I respected her in the Slayer Trial, and it’s what made her such a compelling rival that I wanted to humble her. I admire her tenacity, her power, and her self-confidence.”

  Sinalthria was watching him carefully now, and Synthra had almost entirely turned back toward him, her arms folded under her bust in a way that made her seem oddly vulnerable to Leonidas.

  “I have no desire to embarrass her or leave her to the mercies of political vipers, but I also need to be candid with her, and with you: I do not love your daughter, I’m not sure if we’re even compatible long-term, and I have no desire to coerce her into a relationship built on the foundations of an unwitting deception,” he said with honesty, while trying to convey his sincerity to Synthra with his eyes.

  “Your daughter deserves love, Guild Mistress. She deserves to be treasured, and wanted, and worshipped, and celebrated—the way a woman of her intelligence, her drive, her passion, and yes, her beauty deserves,” Leonidas said with firm belief. It was how he’d felt since he was young, since his grandfather and father had instilled their ethics into him. He’d never cared for casual sex, and even less for shallow relationships. If he were to commit to someone, it would have to be genuine.

  “I will not break away from my statement to pursue her,” he continued as both women watched him in silence, “out of respect for her dignity and public standing, but neither will I force her into a relationship that would be built on fondness at best. I will not be party to that.”

  “{Is it because of Aylar?}” Synthra asked abruptly, before Sinalthria could say anything. “{Are you—that is, do you love Aylar?}”

  Leonidas blinked at the question, but shook his head.

  “No,” he said honestly, and reached up to brush his hand through his hair, while trying to organize his thoughts. “I don’t know what Aylar and I will be, or even if we will be anything. Ceruviel has her ideas and plans, and I know what Dawnhaven might require of us both, but I’m not even Haelfenn, and god knows I have no idea how to be a King,” he said with a quiet snort, thinking of his time on Elatra. “Besides, Aylar and I… I dunno. It’s not love, Synthra. I don’t know what it is. It’s complicated for me. She reminds me of—of someone I used to know, and it’s hard.”

  Synthra and Sinalthria looked at him in silence when he finished, and Leonidas stuck his hands in his pockets out of habit, looking between both mother and daughter as they took stock of him. Sinalthria seemed to be calculating or considering, while Synthra looked more… reserved. It was hard to define precisely what it was, but something in her eyes showed an understanding and, unless he was entirely mad, an almost sad acceptance. It was surprising how expressive her eyes were—like pools of shimmering, molten gold.

  Synthra met his gaze in silence, and something seemed to pass between them as Leonidas matched her attention with his—blue eyes to gold. An understanding bloomed in the contact, something that went beyond words, and settled with an almost spiritual clarity. He felt something comfortable in their matched gaze, a kind of mutual exasperation at the insanity that had brought them here. Despite it all, he smiled at her faintly—unable to help it, given the insanity of their situation.

  To his surprise, Sythra smiled back, almost shyly.

  God above, he thought quietly. She really is a generational beauty.

  “{I believe I have a solution,}” Sinalthria said abruptly, and interrupted Leonidas’ focus, snapping his and Synthra’s gazes back to her.

  Wait… what just happened? He asked within the confines of his own mind. Did we just have a moment? Me and Synthra? No… that can’t be right, can it?

  “{Go ahead, Mother,}” Synthra said, and cleared her throat.

  Did her voice go up an octave, or am I hearing things?

  “{We cannot break this engagement for risk of damaging Synthra’s suitability among Alteran nobility, but Achilles raises a chivalrous point about her happiness. To wit, I believe the ideal solution would be to maintain the announced intention and use it as a fulcrum by which to create an opportunity.}”

  Leonidas raised his eyebrows curiously, and Synthra tilted her head.

  “{What are you getting at, mother?}”

  “{Simple: we will announce you are ready to promenade, Synthra, and we will ask Ceruviel to bring you into society as her political ward,}” Sinalthria said with a smirk and twinkle in her fiery gaze. “{The Duchess will be the ideal person to create opportunity for you to mingle with the aristocracy in an official capacity, and Achilles will be a prime bait with which to hook a suitable bachelor. Seeing the dirty Terran Earl on the arm of a prime, exotic beauty like you will make them salivate in envy. They will come flocking to try to woo you.}”

  Leonidas raised his eyebrows at that and turned toward Synthra in consideration.

  “That’s… not a bad idea,” he said to her thoughtfully. “It reminds me of—”

  “{—The Duke and I, from the Bridgerton series,}” Synthra said, as if reading his mind. “{It is not a terrible idea, no. It certainly plays into the love of drama rampant among the pure-blooded Haelfenn.}”

  “{It also puts to bed any concerns around your honor, daughter,}” Sinalthria said with a self-satisfied smile. “{And it affords you both the chance to spend time together, and strengthen the alliance between the Guild and the Black Knight. Synthra will, eventually, succeed me. It is good seeding for the future.}”

  Leonidas looked between them both, and after a lingering glance at Synthra, who met his stare levelly—and far less openly than before—he shrugged and nodded.

  “{I agree,}” he said more formally in Haelfennyr. “{I believe this will serve as a fine bridge toward the future.}”

  “{As do I,}” Synthra said, and then glared at Leonidas without warning. “{But don’t think this means I forgive you, you absolute buffoon! Who proposes without even knowing what he’s doing? Idiot! You will need to refine your Haelfennyr for this to work. You’re going to embarrass us both otherwise!}”

  Leonidas stared at her in stunned silence and then threw his hands up.

  Oh my God, he realized with complete horror. She’s a complete Tsundere!

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