Chapter Text
Royal balls are not Andy’s scene, and her mother, Queen Bernadette of Sachsonia, does not generally compel her to attend. Since she’d finished her formal education five years ago, she’s intermittently performed princess duties at her leisure, but her main occupation is dilettante knight errant. As long as her older brother, Prince Frederick the Grand Governor of South Sachsonia, keeps himself alive and well so he can eventually inherit the main throne and she can transition to South Sachsonia, her parents have been content to let her kick around doing whatever she wants although they sometimes assign her minor goodwill missions or odd quests she’s uniquely suited to.
She’s been home for the last six months or so working with the council on a sewer infrastructure project, and the last time there’d been a ball scheduled, her mother had come into her chambers personally and said,
“Why don’t you do that thing you do that you think I don’t know about and disguise yourself as a commoner and go dick off at the tavern tonight? That duke who’s always trying to grope you is going to be here because I need the water rights to his land, and I’d rather not have to exile my fool hot-headed daughter for murder.”
“If he’s dead, though, don’t the water rights automatically revert to you? I’d be willing to endure an exile for that. I mean, we can always communicate by raven. Or you could dress up as a commoner and visit me at the tavern.”
“How about we save the exile for something more dire, hmm?”
Andy had huffed,
“If you insist.”
“Why are you acting like this is an imposition? I’m giving you express permission to skip the ball tonight.”
“Oh right. I got so caught up daydreaming about killing that dillweed that I forgot that part.”
The queen had rolled her eyes fondly, kissed Andy’s cheek, and exited.
Andy had half expected this to become a pattern, but instead, Bernie had come into the library where Andy was working on a map of the mall last week and said,
“Look. I know there’s not a great chance you’re going to make any beneficial marriage alliances in the traditional sense, but that doesn’t mean you’re not an asset to this kingdom just as you are.”
Andy had looked up with a furrowed brow. It had been a strange echo of the speech her mother had given her when Andy’d been caught playing midwife with a visiting princess from the Dark Forest at age twelve.
“I’ve heard this one before. What’s the job, mom?” Andy had said.
Bernie had exhaled heavily, said,
“I promise I’m not trying to whore you out.”
“But…?” Andy had said skeptically.
“But. Surely you’ve been hearing the court whispers.”
“Not really. I’ve been pretty preoccupied with literal shit lately, if you recall,” Andy had said, tapping a fingertip onto her hand-drawn schematics.
“And I do appreciate that. You know that I love that I can count on you for all the unsavory and/or weird stuff I need done.”
Andy had scrutinized her mother for a moment. Had her mother raised and trained her for this catch-all position deliberately? Or had it been some fortuitous coincidence that Andy had the aptitude and interest inherently and her mother had recognized it early on and cultivated it for their mutual benefit? Either way, she had known her mother loved and respected her and she had a lot more freedom than a lot of princesses she’d met, so no harm no foul.
“And there’s something or someone at the ball next week that you want me to take care of for you,” Andy had said.
The queen had huffed and plopped into an arm chair, said tiredly,
“If I could change one thing about you, it would be your indifference to current events.”
Andy had said nothing to that. A fair assessment. Her mother had continued,
“The Fire Curtain has come down.”
“Yeah. I didn’t miss that the Smoke Screen ended. We were neutral in the Dragon Wars, so what’s the Fire Curtain got to do with anything?”
“The Dragon Queen has accepted my invitation.”
This had not seemed like big news to Andy. Everything she’d ever read or heard about the Dragon Queen had suggested she used to be pretty social before the assholes across the Dark Forest started poking her nest and attempting a land grab, as well as a dragon egg grab. Sachsonia wasn’t above a land grab from time to time, but stealing people’s kids? Tacky. They’d stayed out of it for the most part other than a few decrees and trade embargos and disinvitations. Ravitzia had advanced wizard weapons, and Priestland had dragons. No need to get in the middle of somebody else’s well-matched fight.
“So… is she planning on coming in dragon form, and you want an extra swordsman around just in case, or what?” Andy had said finally.
Bernie had rolled her eyes, said,
“There are rumors she’s considering taking a consort. Lot of gold in them there hills, you know.”
“So you are whoring me out.”
“No, I just don’t want you to miss an opportunity. From what I recall meeting her once before the Dragon Wars, she’s your type. Wouldn’t hurt to chat her up, see if there’s any potential there. Nobody’s getting any younger, and you’d probably have fun lugging around a dragon egg in one of those cute little slings.”
Andy had laughed,
“And during this chat if I just so happen to mention that our mining technology has improved quite a bit and we could probably help her out with all that gold in them there hills…”
“Two birds with one stone. Or. Two dragons with one really big gold nugget. Or two—”
“Don’t try to make it walk on four legs, Mother.”
Andy has spent the rest of the week researching. She’d been more of a mermaid girl in her youth, which Fred had always teased her about with such gems as,
“The question before us is where’s her clitoris.”
And,
“I don’t need to station a couple royal guards down by the koi pond, do I?”
So she hadn’t known there are several different types of dragons, which hadn’t come as a surprise. There are several different types of everything, she supposes.
Apparently there are non-shifting dragons, as well, but outside of The East, where they are fairly common and live in their own pocket communities and usually get along with humans, they’re virtually extinct. She’s found precious little on how this had come about. Just a few passages in a Priestland history book about the Skin Revolution, which sounds ominous. As best as she can tell, the Skin Dragons are a product of a highly oppressive Scale Dragon dictatorship where full dragons once ruled and habitually raped fully human women until an ancient witch cursed the Scale Dragons to be overthrown, ruined by their own cruelty and lust.
She’s very interested in maybe getting a hold of more in depth, hopefully primary texts, but it’s all a little heavy to ask about on a first meeting, especially one where she’s supposed to be charming and seductive rather than overly interested in another culture’s indubitably painful and gory history.
But she can’t help but be interested in the biology at play anyway. There’s certainly a dearth of that information in the materials she has currently available. She knows anecdotally sex and even reproduction is possible, but she’s very fuzzy on the details of the anatomy involved.
Once she wraps up the sewer, she might have to send herself out on a quest to answer her sundry questions, regardless of whether she and Queen Miranda hit it off. But especially if they do. There’s a duty of care in any sexual entanglement, and she’s not about to let a few claws and scales and other body parts she is not presently familiar with but will do her best to understand ahead of an encounter get in the way of servicing a lady.