She looked up at his classmates, intently scouring the trees from above. “Are you not occupied?”

“Hmm, wait right here.” Weysh changed and pushed off. The wind whistled in his ears as he made a quick, gliding circle over the forest. He let out a sharp screech: Carry on without me.

He touched down before her, his dragon nostrils getting a good dose of her irresistible scent before he changed back. “There, I’m all yours.”

The war within her showed plain on her face. At last she touched a hand to her stomach through the thin material of her wrap shirt and nodded. “You have told me some useful information so far. Should I agree to this, I do not want to hear anything about us being Given. Is that clear, Dragon? You are my tutor only.”

He hesitated. How was he to convince her if he couldn’t even bring up their union?

“I see. Well, if you cannot agree, I must be going.” She turned.

“No! Yes. Agreed,” said Weysh.

Without another word, she strode past him toward the bench, and once they were seated under the cool shadows of the trees, he began.

“What else would you like to know? Go on.”

“Why is it that dragons like Harth Duval and Zui Duval are colorful in their human form, but you are normal, even though as a dragon you are that deep shade of violet?”

“Well, first of all, it’s perfectly normal for dragons to be all sorts of colors. It’s how Byen marks us. Second, I am violet. See?” He made a fist in front of her face, showing her his knuckles, where the purple tinge was most prominent.

“Ah!” she said. “I hadn’t even noticed.”

He nodded. “It’s a bit difficult to see because of my Island ancestry, but the color is there.”

Yenni’s eyes went wide. “You’re an Islander?”

“My grandfather was, on my mother’s side, but he died when I was ten.”

He frowned. Ah Movay, he didn’t like to think about it. He missed the man. When he was a child, Weysh’s mother would send him off to the Sunrise Isles every winter, where he would spend time with his grandfather, uncle, and cousins. His grandfather had been a stark contrast to Montpierre, always warm and kind. Then again, he’d been the type of person who could make anyone feel like they were the most important person in the room. Weysh always thought that was where he got his charm with women—well, most women. He’d visited the Sunrise Isles a few more times after his grandfather passed, but it wasn’t the same. His memories of the Islands brought him more sorrow than comfort, and so he stopped going.