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She landed in the foothills around Flint Rock and enjoyed the downhill walk into town. Even with the energy of her brisk pace her head felt hot. She was still fuming.
Fucking adventurers.
Fucking wizards .
The exact kind of cocksure menace that will kill one of her kind just for the experience of it, and she has the nerve to accuse her , to throw her out like it"s nothing.
It"s fine , she thought, false in her own head. It is over.
But once she was getting situated in the main hall of the local inn and tavern, her hackles rose. The lightning and wind of a blue dragon , but faint, an echo, with a specific ring; the Fulmine dragonmark"s smell.
She was both frightened and satisfied at once. If one of them had been stupid enough to follow her... of course, she might die, if Sylva was there too, but if she lived she would feel so much better about this.
The face she honed in on across the room was not one of the three faces she"d become acquainted with in the Fulmine household, but it was close. A young man with Sylva"s cheeks and Kennyth"s nose and the shape and light of Juliana"s eyes. She was slow to realize what that meant, what it must mean, but when she did a smile stretched over her lips. She knew what she was eating tonight.
Oh, to see the look on that woman"s face were she to know her son was alive, then would still be alive if she hadn"t offended the Dark Lady of the Dessarin Valley.
And he would deserve it, too. Letting that sad sad sad little girl wallow in grief over him while he sat in a tavern a city away, having a grand time.