Daughter of the Dragon

Chapter 10: The Princess (UPDATED)

Darya glanced at Meika through tear-filled eyes. The other girl was stricken, her world shattered. She wasn't merely motherless as Darya was, but a true orphan. No mother, no father, no siblings. Growing up alone—out here in the woods—without a single friend. 

The rush of sympathy was joined by a pang of guilt. Darya certainly hadn't made it easier for Meika. Quite the opposite. She had treated Meika like dirt. No, worse. She'd treated the healer's daughter like a freak. Because the grownups did, which was a poor excuse. But most of all, because she, as the First Adlerman's daughter, could get away with a great many things if she pretended to be all polite and proper. And because Darya was her father's daughter, the other children followed her lead. Which made everything a thousand times worse. Darya was a horrible person, and she felt terrible for it.

And here Darya was, sitting in Meika's home, crying like a little girl—it helped a bit when Meika started crying too—and being comforted by her mother, the village witch. Witches. Warlocks and witches were dark and dangerous creatures. Everyone knew this. They seduced, tricked, and destroyed. No one was safe from their clawed fingers. But Ela was nothing like what Darya Daransdotr Travers had imagined a witch should be.

Darya had met Ela many times during her sixteen years, of course. The village wasn't that big, and the healer wasn't a total recluse. But Darya was quick to move away whenever the healer was around. One time, and one time only—when Darya was nine—she had been extremely rude to Ela at the midsummer fair. Darya had called her a witch and almost thrown an apple at the woman. She'd lost her nerve at the last moment and run away instead.

Olla Renners, a stern-faced woman from a neighboring farm, had witnessed the scene and gone looking for the young offender. She found Darya hiding behind one of the stalls. The woman—who had felt terribly strong at the time—had dragged young Darya after her long hair—she had cried and begged, but Olla hadn't even blinked—over to where her father stood talking with some merchants. Daran Travers—recently elected First Alderman—had been furious.

Darya had been sure he'd beat her, which he—unlike most fathers—never did. He hadn't, but his anger was such that Darya had been terrified for days. After that, Darya was never anything but smiles and politeness when she bumped into the healer. Ela always smiled back at her, which made little Darya really afraid, thinking the healer was planning some terrible vengeance.

The true Ela—not the made-up one from Darya's childhood—was a kind and caring woman. Precisely the type of person Darya had dreamed of having as a mother when she was little. Was that why her father had remarried the year after the incident at the fair? To give young Darya—who was getting a little wild, to be honest—a mother?

If so, it hadn't worked too well. Agneyz had never been mean to Darya, but she hadn't been particularly kind either. And a mother to Darya and Haran? Not at all. Not so strange, perhaps, since Agneyz wasn't much older than Darya was now when she married the Aldermann. And then one child after another, five now, with more probably on the way. If Darya had been in her shoes, she would have turned into a monster. But Darya would never marry an older man and bear many children. Actually, she'd rather never marry anyone or have any children at all.

The true Ela was so much more than a simple village healer. Taller than most men, looking so proud she might as well be a queen. Ela's skin, lightly tanned and flawless. If she had any wrinkles at all, she hid them well. Hair as dark as night with only a few strands of grey—that only made her more fabulous. And her clothes... such simple garments... but she was striking nonetheless... if Ela she went to a ball with noble lords and ladies... it would be she who caught everyone's eye. With rings on every finger, golden hoops in her ears, and a saffron-colored scarf over her head Ela looked a lot like the Travelling Folk—but twice as tall. Darya felt childish for thinking it, but she suddenly wanted to be like Ela when she grew up. Independent. Proud. Powerful.