The Dragons Queen Saga

Part 5: The Proposal

He looked like a new man. Dresden had taken the time to cleanly shave off all the unruly tangles of dark hair on his head and chin using the dagger he'd confiscated from Lilieth. It proved effective in making him appear presentable. Dresden figured it would be less hassle to arrive in a new kingdom looking like a gentleman rather than a thief.

Most commoners turned away from him anyway, choosing to ignore his presence, or watching him like a mongrel dog that might make off with their flock in the night. It was difficult to tell whether he looked more or less threatening without hair. With the hair, it shrouded his eyes and covered his teeth and grin. Without hair, all of his facial expressions were accentuated, exaggerated even. He was more mindful of his reactions when clean shaven. More composed so as not to reveal his darker thoughts with a cruel smile or cunning eyes.

The wall surrounding the capital of Sveldin Donan arrived much earlier than Dresden anticipated. He thought he should be able to hear the crashing of waves, but with so many buildings between him and the coastline, they muted the natural sounds and replaced them with man-made noises from manufactured ecosystems. Guards at the gate inspected him as he passed but said nothing. Sveldin had indeed changed! Busy markets and houses filled his senses. People everywhere, but mostly women and children as Thedra had said. The only men, he noted, were in uniform or working at the businesses.

The place overall had a country feel, in comparison to the Northern Lands. This kingdom was quite young. He could tell by the newness of everything. It couldn't be more than a hundred years old, if that. He decided it would be good to locate an inn that had a pub, and was pleased to see that there were still plenty of pubs in Sveldin. Once he found a clean looking inn he made his way inside, reserved a room for a week, even though he knew he didn't have that much time, and went to the adjoining pub. At this time of day there were few customers to bother him and he wasn't looking to drink, just sit. Perhaps he would find a chatty drunkard to fill him in on the goings-on of this place.

The bar-keep glared at him as he made his way to a table. Only after Dresden pulled his sword from his back to set it aside did the man behind the bar address him.

"Hey, there's no weapons allowed in here, stranger."

Dresden just nodded, went up to his room and laid on the bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what Thedra had told him about happiness. What rubbish. They might have seemed happy, living the life of peasants. What was happiness to a Dragon? What had it been to him living among people for so long? How short lived it had been in the Northern Lands when Sariahfina and the Council of Seven had ousted him, showering more dishonor upon him, even now after almost five-hundred years in exile. How long would they be out to seal his doom? The thought seemed loud to him as he again fingered the bottle at his hip. It let out a sickening hiss, quietly, but audibly. The sound sent his thoughts blazing for a moment, understanding and trying to accept what it meant for him. He let himself indulge in a nap and slept for the remainder of the day.

Dresden awoke before the sunrise and groaned as the sounds of a bustling world crashed below him. His room on the second floor overlooked one of the markets where silks, textiles and other finery were sold. He paid no attention to the wares, but to the people, their mannerisms, their speech, their formal manner of addressing one another. Indeed, this kingdom was still extremely young for the commoners to speak so formally in the open streets. This place had not fallen to slovenly language and the folks were dressed respectably and modestly. There were no wenches to entertain, but perhaps that was because it was still morning and they were all inside, entertaining. He would wait and continue to observe the place until he understood the values and moral currency of the people.

He allowed himself to remove his hooded cowl, for the day was drenching hot. He retained the gloves though, and a dagger, but left Kizjin Kol under the mattress in his room. He dared not leave such a valuable object within view since he was unable to secure the room properly. As he adjusted his attire for some casual wandering, he made note of how very out of place he appeared. Although the manner of his outfit carried the weight of a nobleman, the darkness of its color seemed wrong for such a sunny place and bright people. He did not wonder how he would be received, but let his mind focus more on what he would learn from the people if they were open enough to speak plainly with him. It was his intention to get information about the place without seeming suspicious, which had always been made difficult to manage by his appearance alone.