Henrietta saw Bartlett walked out of the guild, full of contemplation. He saw Henrietta and pointed her towards the town’s gate where they could talk freely without drawing more attention to them. It was late afternoon, and the sun was setting. It was time for them to make camp.

  As Clydeth was not used to a dragon rider visiting, Sondheimer had no facility like it was in Manarithia. They best they could provide was a camping spot near the edge of town, something not everyone wanted to use due to the accommodation provided for them within the town. It made the look like they were denied entry to the town, but it was the best they could do for the two unusual travelers.

  Despite this, it was private enough that both Bartlett and Henrietta could freely converse. If they felt the open space was not private enough, there was a forest behind the camping spot that they could use to talk. Yet, that would not be necessary, as their voices were soft enough so no one could listen to their conversation.

  “Did you find some additional help?” asked Henrietta while Bartlett set up his tent.

  “Two,” said Bartlett. "They drove a hard bargain. Thankfully, I managed to convince one of them. I gotta thank you for that. One of them is so easily convinced just from your presence alone."

  "I see," said Henrietta. "Do they satisfy your requirements?"

  "Not exactly, but it's better than nothing. I don't know if it's true or not, but apparently most of the combat-ready mages were being drafted to deal with a situation up north. Then, there's the fact that we're dealing with a cockatrice. No one would consider taking this job without a very good reason."

  "Like procuring a venom sac, you mean," said Henrietta. "But are you really sure they are capable?"

  "I don't know how good the mage was with spells, but he did claim to know about barriers. He looked honest enough, but I can't tell if he's desperate or not. He didn't sound like it. His companion seemed more reliable, though I doubt he'll do as well, being an unarmed combatant."

  "How can you tell?"

  "He didn't carry any weapons. There's no reason for him to be an adventurer without one, so I quickly assumed that his body is his weapon. What I'm not convinced is his personality. I can't believe he thought I painted you pink!"

  "Eh?" Henrietta perked up his head. The man and his companion, could it be…?

  “H-hey, Bartlett,” asked Henrietta. “Those men. What are their names?”

  “Rory and Thomas. Why?”

  "Thomas? Oh, no."

  "What's wrong with Thomas?"

  "Bartlett, stop making that tent and listen to me. We need to talk."

  Bartlett wondered what got into her, but he obliged.

  "What's gotten into you, Henrietta?" he asked.

  Henrietta looked around before she whispered her thought.

  "That man, Thomas...he's my brother."

  There was a slight pause before Bartlett said, “You’re kidding.”

  “I know what I saw, Bartlett. That comment about me being painted pink? That was after he admired me. I looked up and saw his face. I could never mistake my brother's face, Bartlett."

  “Okay, okay…let me get this straight. That young mage, with a little too much eagerness towards dragons and who I managed to convince to lower the hiring price so that he could ride on you…happens to be your brother. Your alive, human brother?”

  “That’s a little too much information, but the answer is a solid yes."

  Then, as if noticing something in that statement, Henrietta asked.

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  "Did you really promise him that he could ride me?”

  “Don’t make it sound wrong, Henrietta,” said Bartlett.

  “Why not? It’s Thomas. I’m fine with that.”

  "No, I mean...oh, nevermind."

  Bartlett sometimes forgot that she was a human princess, sheltered from the lowbrow humor of commoners.

  "Let's talk about something else," said Bartlett. "You said you're the only one who escaped the attack that killed your whole family because you turned into a dragon. You never said anything about a surviving relative."

  "I'm sorry for omitting this fact from you, but I don't know if that's true or not. The last time I saw him was when I personally put him on a boat and pushed him away. I want to believe that he's alive. I really do. Part of me thought it was the last mistake I ever did, but thankfully, that wasn't the case."

  "Why don't you join him back then?"

  "I was the one who's supposed to die that night." Henrietta clutched her stomach, cringing. "My stomach was cut open and I lost too much blood. Someone who came with me that night told me that I died. My memory was a bit of a blur, but when I came to, I was already at the other side of the lake, already transformed."

  "So, you ended up drifting away from the castle, after all."

  Henrietta sighed. "Thomas must've drifted somewhere else. I wished I know where he was, tell him that his sister is still alive. But I lost him."

  "And now, you're reunited."

  "Only I'm not ready to reveal myself just yet. You hiring him only complicates matter, not to mention taking him to such a dangerous quest. Damn it. I wanted to tell him I'm alive, but...argh, why is this so frustrating?!"

  "I know how you feel, princess, but...."

  "I know what you're trying to say. I can't reveal who I am. Can't you see how bad that makes me feel? He's going to ride on my back, and I can't talk to him? At all?"

  "Henrietta, calm down," insisted Bartlett. "Yes, I understand your frustration. Yes, I know this situation is unusual. But please, just stop and think about it. You said it yourself earlier. What if you reveal yourself, and it made it worse? Have you accounted for his companion?"

  "His companion?"

  "Thomas would be elated, but Rory would react like a normal person would. You would be hunted by curious Clydethian researchers and I doubt this new life of yours is going to last. There is a limit to my own ability to help you."

  "Isn't that a bit too far-fetched of a thought?"

  "But not impossible. So, don't reveal yourself until you know Thomas could handle it with a simple 'I'm your sister'. If you spend too much time trying to convince him, you risk exposing yourself further. Not everyone can accept such information on the get-go, princess."

  "There is a chance he might just accept it with a shrug."

  "Only that's what it is: a chance. So, don't bet on it. Two years are long enough time for a person to move on. Just look at him. Does he look like a prince on the run? He's happy living his new life as Thomas Alonquin. His friend must've straightened him up and told him to move on.

  Henrietta looked at Bartlett, contemplating on his words. As they stared with each other for a while, Henrietta sighed.

  “I hate it when you made a good point," she said. "You know, I really started to think how better it is to just hire someone else and let Thomas be on his way. Regardless of my feelings right now, we are exposing him to unnecessary danger.”

  "He's the only choice we got."

  "Right.... Oh, god. It's going to be so awkward tomorrow."

  "It is." Bartlett then resumed building his tent while Henrietta wondered about what she should do while Thomas was riding on her back. The more she thought about it, the worse it made her feel.

  Thankfully, Bartlett understood her situation, and diverted her thoughts from it.

  “Actually, I have been wondering, princess,” said Bartlett. “Why do you have pinkish grey scales? I can understand why that man was rather disappointed in me, thinking I painted your scales. I couldn't give him a good answer, though."

  “I’m not really sure,” said Henrietta while looking at her scales. “But now that you point it out, it does have a familiar color.”

  “Familiar?”

  “Yes…like a dress, perhaps?”

  “It does remind me of a dress. Did you wear a dress before you transform?”

  “I, uh…I think I did. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  "I don't want to remember much about it," said Henrietta. "I can't afford to remember any details from that day. I don't want to. Remembering what dress I wore before I turned into a dragon was the last thing I had in mind. Let's just say this is my favorite color and just leave it at that, hmm?"

  Bartlett understood what she was implying. He simply shrugged and said, "I won't pry further."

  Henrietta lowered her head and growled. Bartlett could only imagine what she went through before her transformation, especially if she was willing to kill the men hunting her so brutally. To her, it must have felt like a well-deserved revenge, and Bartlett could not blame her.

  Whatever happened in her past was justified from the excessive way she dispatched her pursuers. For Bartlett, who barely even knew her back then, it was appalling. For Henrietta, it could be a catharsis she needed.

  As they prepared to rest, they did not realize that they were being watched by someone in the shadows. He was wearing a cloak with a hood that covered his head, obscuring most of his features. He had been watching the two in the shadows for a while, and he caught the supposedly secret conversation between the rider and his dragon. He wasn’t fazed by this fact. He was, in fact, amused.

  “So, she survived a turned into a dragon,” thought the spy as he disappeared into the shadows. “Interesting. I never thought they were right. Perhaps they were right. But I'll defer my opinion until something happens."

  The cloaked spy continued his trek through the nearby forest, while the unaware Henrietta and Bartlett continued their conversation through the night while deliberately avoiding to mention anything about Henrietta's past and Thomas.