Graymore is a dragon hunter. Natalie Yacobson

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want you!» A small voice inside Graymore’s mind prompted.

      Probably some joking spirit spoke to her. Graymore brushed the voice aside.

      She could also have been summoned in this way by a court wizard. Though the Council of Magicians had long since been banished, and there was still one powerful wizard in the castle, Gryamore would not consult him now. He would appear before him, and in a mentor-like tone he would begin to instruct her in the right thing to do. All his advice took the form of orders.

      Once she was officially crowned queen, Graymore would not let anyone else tell her what to do. She would change the rules at Livellin’s court as she saw fit, too. There will be no more days of stupor after defeating a dragon.

      She proved at the ball that it is possible to break a condition and still not be caught by captive dragons. She wasn’t being guided by any of them right now.

      «You’re so sure of that?» The cryptic voices sounded as if they were coming from the cellar, but dragons can’t talk.

      Graymore knocked the goblet of wine to the floor. She must not drink another drop of spirits! It’s time to switch to milk and fruit nectar. Milk and fruit nectar would never get you drunk. The wine poured out red on the marble floor, a reminder of blood.

      A dragon’s face was in the pool. Graymore flinched, glancing toward the window. There was no dragon hovering outside. She shuddered as if a dragon had gotten cocky enough to peek through the window and reflect in the spilled wine.

      Those dragons! They drew Graymore to themselves like a magnet.

      The blood of dragons drew her from a distance. And now she felt a dragon at her side. Well, not exactly near. It was somewhere on the edge of the kingdom. Graymore’s secret vision immediately awoke, and she stopped listening to the ambassador, who had arrived with some sort of report and was now reading it out. The dragon is near, and she sits idle. It is time to grab her bow and sword.

      The dragon’s fiery blood drew her like a magnet. Its distant scent served as a stimulant. Not because the dragon was hurt, but because everything in Graymore flashed at the feeling of having a dragon near. And its veins flowed with spontaneous blood.

      There was a prophecy that the mountain dragon would be her destiny. Probably it was because from its scales she would make a perfect chain-mail for herself and become a great knight. Everyone knows that armor made of dragon scales cannot be penetrated by arrows or blades and does not burn. She needs such armor, which means she must capture the dragon. With dragon armor, she will become a great knight who can fight not only dragons but armies of men alone, and only such a knight can rule a kingdom.

      That is how Graymore interpreted the prophecy. She would have to marry one of her cousins who would become king. And she wanted to rule herself. She didn’t want a husband who would limit her power at all. To be an autocrat-that is the main goal! And for that she would have to try and prove herself a true heroine.

      It was a pity that not all dragons were suited to be skinned and fitted with ideal armor. She needed a special dragon whose scales would not fade after they were flayed from the skin. Graymore had already checked all the dragons she had captured. Once she peeled back the colorful scales, they faded and became colorless. So these dragons are no good. She would have to look for a special one. She wondered if there was a dragon like that nestled on the fringes of her domain. He was in a province somewhere, just outside the southern ridge of the mountains. Graymore was trying to pinpoint its exact location when heralds announced an urgent messenger.

      It is a dragon! It is on the southern border of Livellin! It has burned the vineyards and wineries of your subjects, dried with its breath several rivers, destroyed the frontier fort, and neighbors say that before it flew to us, it incinerated a small country by the sea.»

      Graymore wondered:

      «Did the dragon make demands? Had he bewitched someone to deliver an ultimatum through his lips? Did he demand that cattle or innocent girls be sacrificed to him?»

      Usually dragons demanded a dozen sheep a week and a few virgins for a snack. The scholars were certain that dragons needed virgins to perform witchcraft rituals.

      Whether dragons knew how to conjure by performing rituals, Graymore did not know. But they did possess a certain ability to perform enchantments. Usually all of their witchcraft talents were limited to suggestion. They could hypnotize a man with one look. But when Graymore looked the dragons in the eye, they had no power over her. It was the further proof that she was bewitched.

      «The dragon has not yet made any demands, Your Highness… I mean, majesty,» the messenger did not know how to address her. The formalities were of no concern to Graymore. She will be crowned in due course. She will prove to all that she is capable of reigning alone.

      But why did the boundary dragon have power over her? She burned with the feeling that he was close. She was drawn to him as if he was a lover, and yet he was a rival. With every dragon Graymore fought as if she were fighting for power. If she lost once, she would lose her chance to rule the kingdom. But she cannot lose, for she is enchanted.

      «I promise to solve the dragon problem,» she waved graciously at the messenger. «Go back to your own land, and tell the people have nothing to fear.»

      «But there are none left, my lady. They are all burnt!»

      So they are! Graymore tapped the armrests of the throne with annoyance.

      The mesmerizing voice in her brain sounded more insistent.

      «Come to me!»

      Graymore felt her body being caressed by streams of flame. They were no longer burning, but pleasurable. She basked in them as in a warm, fragrant bath.

      The fire around her body was invisible, or the messenger and the ambassador, whose report had been indelicately interrupted, would have run away screaming.

      «It’s dangerous, my lady!» muttered the messenger. «All those who went to scout have not returned. Many of the glorious knights were left with only burned armor.»

      «Mountain dragons are usually full of treasure,» said Graymore dreamily. She was not afraid of being burned. When has a single dragon ever been able to fight her? She alone is stronger than all of them.

      «There was probably an exception waiting ahead.»

      There was that intrusive voice in her brain again!

      Graymore focused her attention on the messenger. He was shabby and frightened.

      «Have you come to ask for help?»

      «Yes, my lady!»

      «Well, I assure you of it.»

      «But you’re not going to fight him yourself, are you, my lady?» The messenger blushed to his ears and shrank back. «I hear you are a great champion of dragons.»

      «And you doubt I can defeat a dragon?»

      «Well,» the messenger blushed even more. «You are not the giantess I was told you were. You’re just a pretty lady.»

      «Go on, scram!» Graymore was furious. «You’ll find out how

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