Weysh changed and grinned at her. “That it has! Casting magic in dragon, who would have ever thought it. We should show this to General Sol—she’s head of the dragon division at Prevan.”

“Absolutely!” said Yenni.

“And I’ll have to practice so I can put on a proper demonstration for your family, en?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And when might that be?”

Yenni paused, her silence filled by the crackling flames from the salamanders, until finally Weysh crossed his arms and grunted. “Have you even told them about me?”

“Not yet.”

“I see.”

That stung him, she could tell. As always she could see his emotions plain on his face. He was warring with himself. He likely wanted to challenge her as to why, but was reluctant to undo the progress they’d made by starting an argument.

“I need time,” she said before he could speak further. “To decide—”

Decide what? If she wanted him? She could no longer deny that she did. If she was brave enough to bring him home? If her happiness was worth a war?

“—how to tell them,” she finished.

She knew that answer didn’t make him happy, but he nodded all the same. With each day that passed she came closer to the crossroads, to the decision she knew she must make.

But not today.

“The storm has passed,” said Weysh, and in truth the rain was nothing more than a light drizzle now, the crashing thunder long gone. “Shall I take you back?”

“Oh, so soon?”

“Yes, I should get in some melee practice.”

“Oh, all right.”

Strange, it was usually her who suggested they head back. Nevertheless, he led her out of the chapelle ruins, changed to dragon, and took her back to her residence. She paid the toll, and he received his fare with enthusiasm, but watching him wing away to the training sands, Yenni couldn’t shake a strange sense of unease.

31

In the following weeks Weysh found himself somewhat subdued. His recent success with Yenni had been cause for elation, but there was still much they needed to overcome. Their conversation at the chapelle ruins was a sobering reminder that she hadn’t truly pledged herself to him. He’d been plagued by strange fits of melancholy since Noriago’s attack, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling to know the one you loved didn’t quite feel the same way about you. Coupled with how she’d dropped his hand like a hot coal when they’d bumped into Carmenna, he might almost believe she was embarrassed by him.