Chương 232: 40. Royal Capital Latpan 1

"The capital of the Dragon Kingdom — Latpan." Ignicia said it while I was still clinging to the saddle at her back, my fingers so cramped from the constant tension they'd started to go numb. Ahead of us, the night was retreating. We broke through layer after layer of cloud, their edges sharpened silver by the coming dawn. And then, finally, the city rose into full view at the very end of my sight.

I'd thought capital meant, at worst, a city that was just higher, larger, and brighter than the standard model — walls thick like they were trying to win an arm-wrestling contest with neighboring nations, palaces multiplied until the tax budget cried, and maybe a few decorative towers put up specifically to remind foreigners, we're very impressive, in case you missed it. Latpan was none of that. It wasn't a city that grew up out of the ground.

It was a city that had grabbed high ridges, wind channels, cliffs, and clouds, and hammered itself straight into the order of the sky. Tiered districts of black stone unfolded along the mountain spine and the plateaus, not tied together mainly by roads, but by massive aerial platforms, suspension bridges, spires, and wing-fields for dragons to land and take off.

From above, the entire city looked like a crown set into the mountains; the shadows circling along the currents and morning mist made one thing very clear — the traffic rules here had nothing whatsoever to do with the human countries I was familiar with. Those were dragons. Not just one. Grey, black, blue-green, and even a few with faint golden light tracing the edges of their wing membranes, all moving according to some rigorously enforced pattern along different altitudes and directions.

They didn't look like beasts. They looked like military standards given flesh. Invisible air roads that I couldn't see, but which clearly existed, were dividing the entire capital into levels and domains. And we — or to be precise, Ignicia — were following one of those routes, a path every other shadow gave way to automatically, cutting straight into the deepest part of the city. I stared for a few seconds, then couldn't help murmuring:"... This isn't a capital anymore." Her flight was steady as bedrock.

Her voice rode the wind back to me.

"What did you expect it was?"

"More like a place mortals probably shouldn't be wandering into on a whim."

"Only thinking that now?"

"You're asking a man who just helped you blow up an entire harbor to immediately give a properly calibrated assessment of your capital. Isn't that setting the bar a bit high?" She didn't look back. But I was very sure she was laughing. Quietly. Light as a warm current slipping past my ear in the high air. Further ahead, the light strengthened. The details of the capital sharpened.

Ancient dragon reliefs marched along tower walls, like old things that had coiled themselves into the stone, watching all living things pass beneath them with cold, carved eyes. The great gates didn't only open toward the ground — higher platforms had openings facing the sky directly, built for dragons and those who took their shape. On several wing-fields, honor guards were already standing in perfectly straight ranks, spears and banners catching the pale light of the morning mist.

Those tower tips I'd thought were decorative, on closer look, resembled observation and air-defense nodes one after another. For a fleeting moment, I found myself wanting to hold a moment of silence for the Yanxia Empire. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Not out of pity. Just, from the perspective of a human being still clinging to a shred of sanity, I suddenly understood something very clearly: Some countries are meant to be admired from a distance.

Actually trying them because your blood ran hot one night is a terrible idea. Ignicia began to drop altitude. Hot wind spilled out from between her wings, scattering the mist below in layers. Following the angle of her descent with my eyes, I realized she wasn't heading for the outer platforms reserved for visiting envoys, or any ceremonial wing-field for foreign guests. She was landing on a high terrace deep within the inner court. Almost directly attached to the royal buildings.... Lovely.

I didn't need anyone to spell it out for me to know that this was absolutely not the standard package.

"Ignicia."

"Mm?"

"When you bring foreign envoys home, do you usually land them here?"

"No."

"So can I interpret that as—""You'd better not start getting nervous now," she said, almost lazily.

"It's far too late for that." Not even pretending to comfort me. A moment later, her shadow swept over the high terrace. She beat her wings once, twice, bleeding off speed. Her body cast a vast, red shadow across the stone as she came in, the downwash from her final glide slamming against the wing-field and snapping every banner and cloak around it sharply backward. I pressed myself low against her back — the last thing I needed was to roll off a dragon in full view of the capital's inner court.

I'd embarrassed myself enough for one day. Her talons hit stone with a heavy thud. The entire platform dipped. Heat and mist mingled in the breaths spilling from her jaws. I hadn't even finished adjusting my posture when the steady clatter of armor rang out all around us.

Dozens of waiting guards dropped to one knee in unison; beyond them, attendants and inner-court officials bowed as well, heads lowering with a precision that made it look less like a greeting, and more like some reflex carved into their bones over years.

"Welcome home, Your Highness." When their voices overlapped, I felt something else very clearly. Not everyone was just welcoming her. A great many glances — brief, controlled, gone in an instant — slid from their lowered positions toward me. The meaning was clear enough: They'd seen it. Seen that she had returned in her true form. Seen that she had a rider. Seen that the one she'd brought on her back was a man. And not one of their own inner circle, either — obviously an outsider.

The fact that this scene had taken place in the skies above the capital at all was probably enough to keep a few court clerks busy for a long night of additional documentation. I inhaled silently.... Well, all right. We'd flown this far in. Pretending I'd just hitched a ride at this point would be an insult to everyone's intelligence. Ignicia didn't change back immediately. She swept her gaze once over the rows of guards and officials below, as if confirming the headcount and the presence of whoever was in charge.

Only then did she let the dragon form draw inward, scales, wings, tail and heat pulling back into the human outline I'd grown used to — which, in the capital, suddenly looked much further away. By the time she landed, she was once more the red-haired, gold-eyed princess with black horns. Only, compared with the harbor, her back was straighter now, her expression colder. Even the exhaustion at the corners of her eyes had been crushed down somewhere deep where no one could see it.

The woman who'd buried her face in my chest in the fire was still there. But on this high platform in Latpan, the one standing here was a princess first. She completed all the handover with a single, extremely short order.

"I'll make a full report to His Majesty on the battle and the port's disposition personally. For now, every record, person, and provisional seal procedure related to the Port of Isca Apubra — handle them under second-tier wartime protocol."

"Yes, Your Highness." Not a single extraneous word. No one asked, who is this? In fact, the less anyone asked, the more that said about how serious this was. The instant I slid down off the platform and actually put my feet on the stone, my legs very honestly shook.... Good. At least my body had more integrity than my mouth. It knew that, structurally speaking, it was about done for.

An older inner-court attendant stepped forward at once — not to grab me, but to stop a precise step away, bowing just enough to be polite without stepping outside the lines.

"Lord Cedric, if you'll come with me. Her Highness will address the rest in due course." I took in the word address, and then his expression — calm, as if he'd just commented on the weather.

"... Is this how the Dragon Kingdom usually reassures its guests?" Not a twitch from his eyebrows.

"Latpan is meticulous about protocol, my lord." Wonderful. I suddenly found myself missing Jessi's way of making things sound a little more like human speech. Ignicia glanced my way. It was a short look. Accurate, though. Like she was checking that I was still vertical — and also telling me do not you dare fall over now. She left me with just one line.

"See to your injuries and your clothes first."

"That sounds suspiciously like you think I look a mess."

"It doesn't sound like anything," she said, flat.

"You do." That tone was right. To my own surprise, it calmed me a little. With that, she turned and walked away, leading another contingent of guards into the inner court. Her cloak drew a red-and-black line through the morning air, and the people around her parted for her like the sea. I stood there, watching her back recede down the stone corridor, and for the first time, a very simple fact really settled into me: On her back, she'd brought me here.

The moment my feet hit Latpan's stone, though, a whole Dragon Kingdom had appeared between us.