That night, Tama didn't travel far in Dreamscape but remained in the Hasurei palace as her mother advised. Ronna the dragon visited her in the orchard and Tama disclosed her plan to marry the Dragon King as Princess Amida.
"So, from now on, you must call me Amida," Tama said to Ronna after finishing the story. "I hear King Gerart can access Dreamscape since he's the late Dragon Priestess' son. I can't have him discovering my identity."
"But, Draki knows who you are!" Ronna exclaimed, more alarmed by the news than Tama expected.
"I can fool Draki." Tama shrugged. "I'll just say I gave him a false name because he was a statesman from the enemy kingdom. The main thing is that you, my dragon, refer to me as Amida. I… I only hope you haven't told my name to Beilung so he doesn't tell Draki?"
"Oh… Don't worry, I've never told Beilung your name!" Ronna said. "He and I may be mates, but we don't reveal our humans' secrets without their permission. You were from the enemy kingdom of Hasurei, and the granddaughter of the Shadow God, so I thought it wise to never reveal your name or personal information unless you asked me."
"Thank you, Ronna!" Tama smiled. Ronna may be playful, but she's more shrewd than she lets on. She thought.
She sat in the orchard with the dragon, watching the full moon. It'd be her last time in these beautiful gardens, where she grew up playing with Princess Amida.
"Oh, look!" Ronna's fearful tone sounded. "There's the ghost ship!"
Tama looked at the starry sky. Near the pale moon, amidst the clouds, soared a huge galleon with glowing blue sails. It was said to be a ghost ship and could fly as fast as it sailed. It was called the Shark Tooth and belonged to the Prince of Lunaria. This wasn't the first time it appeared in the sky, but while many people regarded it as a bad omen and even Ronna was frightened of it, Tama felt a sense of warmth upon its sight, the spirit of adventure burning in her heart.
"The Shark Tooth is in the skies again?" Her smile deepened. "Little Brother Arubah seems to be having fun! I bet he'll be the one taking Princess Amida to Lunaria when the time comes."
"Oh, right, Demon Prince Arubah is your cousin!" Ronna looked at her. "I know you're the Shadow God's granddaughter, but it's still hard to believe my human is related to the kings and the prince of Lunaria!" She glanced at the soaring ship. "The biggest fear for us, aquatic dragons, is the Moon Rod wielded by the Shadow God and his kin. The glowing blue sails of that ship are crafted from the fabric of the Shadow God's cloak, so it brings me goosebumps every time!"
"Well, in that case, my hairpin here" – Tama grinned, touching the skull hairpin in the golden band of her ponytail – "would bring you as much fright! It's my Moon Rod."
"Well, I've only seen you in Dreamscape, so I can't feel the deathly aura of your hairpin unless you activate its powers," Ronna replied. "When I see you in real life, I might get frightened indeed!"
"Haha!" Tama laughed. She looked up at the ethereal ship again. "You're amazing, Ronna! You openly admit your fears."
"Unless you admit them, you'll never grow," Ronna said. "You have to face your fears to overcome them."
"Well then, I guess I should open up to you about mine." Tama looked into the dragon's serpentine eyes. "I'm afraid of tomorrow, Ronna! I suggested to the Queen that I'd become the Dragon King's bride and I'm not planning to go back on my word, but I'm scared. Draki said Princess Amida would die in Drahvelt! What will happen to me?" She hugged her knees. "I know Grandpa and Uncle won't leave me in peril, but even if I'm not killed, how will I bear living a caged life? They say King Gerart is a monster! How will I endure his nearness as my husband?!"
She covered her face with her hands. In the dream state, her emotional turmoil was stronger since her rationality was blocked, so her whole body shook. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she began whimpering.
Ronna's scaly green tail wrapped her and pressed her to her pale yellow chest. Tama looked up at the dragon. Ronna bent her neck and rubbed her giant muzzle against Tama's cheek, showing her affection.
"I'll be with you, Tama," she said with her mild grunt. "Once you're in Drahvelt, I'll come to you and never leave your side!"
"Oh, Ronna!" Tama sniffled. She cuddled with the dragon, finding consolation in her hug.
She was relieved that she had at least one friend whom she'd keep after her departure tomorrow.
***
Tama wasn't the only one watching the full moon and the ghost ship that night. In the city of Vienrose, outside the royal palace, a certain district buzzed with energy at midnight, livelier than it was during the day. Red lampposts illuminated the scene. Two-storey taverns could be found on every corner, their long wooden balconies extending over the street. On each of those balconies, stood ravishing women in luxurious dresses, waving their hands at men in the streets and beckoning them inside. Many men, flushed up from wine or lust, would stagger into the taverns to drown in their pleasures. This was the Fleurouge Street – the most vibrant red light district of Vienrose.
In the central area of Fleurouge Street towered the biggest tavern of four floors. Above its gate hung a giant plate, bearing the name "Deurose". Richly carriages had parked before the gate and the stables were filled with well-bred horses and even some unicorns, pegasi, and pegacorns. Deurose was the most popular tavern on Fleurouge Street, so it attracted rich customers who could afford such majestic steeds.
In Deurose Tavern, the floors indicated the affordability of rooms – on the highest floor were the most expensive chambers. Therefore, the richer and more powerful the client, the higher they could lodge. The chambers on the fourth floor were decorated as sumptuously as those in the royal palace, offering the guests heavenly comfort.
That night, the luxury room on the fourth floor was occupied by the most important client of Deurose Tavern, whose anonymity was strictly kept by the proprietress and her working women. Unlike most of the anonymous clients, who were wrinkled and old, this one was young and energetic, so every woman in Deurose yearned to be booked by him. However, he always chose the same girl – a purple-haired beauty, Dianne. She was fifteen years old but experienced in her profession, having been sold into slavery at twelve years of age.
Now, Dianne was leaning out the window on the fourth floor, gazing at the starry sky. She wore a black-to-purple dress with a deep cut near her breasts. A golden hairpin with violet flower ornaments adorned her purple bun – the gift from her young patron. Her violet eyes were deep and enticing. She marvelled at the glowing blue-sailed ship floating through the clouds near the moon. It was the infamous "ghost ship", which frightened many people, but seemed alluring to Dianne.
"I wonder how it feels to sail on that thing?" she muttered. "Must be rejuvenating, to feel that sort of freedom!" She passed her hand on a golden hilt of a sword girt on her waist. Its violet scabbard carried the ornaments of violet flowers. "You value Freedom," Dianne whispered to the sword, "and yet you chose a slave from a brothel as your wielder! What's up with that?"
She stroked the back of her neck, where was incised a tattoo of a black rose – the symbol of Fleurouge District. Every woman received this eternal mark when starting a career in that district, and unless an exceptionally rich client bought them out, they'd have to live and die there. As far as Dianne knew, the girls bought out from the Fleurouge District were less than fifty in the whole two-century-long history of that area.
"I'm ready!" sounded the mild, low-pitched voice from inside the room, waking Dianne from her musings.
She turned around, facing her patron – a seventeen-year-old boy with well-combed blond hair and shimmering blue eyes. He'd just come out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel strapped around his waist. A few waterdrops sprinkled down his muscled chest. He was Dianne's wealthiest client – His Highness Ishgal Blackthorne, the Crown Prince of Hasurei.
Dianne took off her sword and leaned it against the wall. She approached the prince and began unstitching her dress. Ishgal's soft fingers touched her neck, taking the stitches from her hands.
"I'll help," he said.
Dianne put her hands down, letting him unstitch her dress. The touch of his fingertips on her skin aroused her. She took deep breaths to hold herself still. In her wretched life in this tavern, the only ray of light was Ishgal – the handsome prince who kept coming back for her. He discovered this tavern a year ago when he was invited there by a few palace officials. The sixteen-year-old prince was offered the brothel's "youngest jewel" – Dianne, fourteen years old but already popular, having been the favourite woman of a famous old Flower Knight, Agil Harouche, the wielder of the Violet Sword. Agil was a lecherous old man but an expert fighter, so he trained Dianne, his little favourite, in sword art. Upon his death, the Violet Sword chose Dianne as its new wielder, so when Ishgal met her, she was already an expert swordswoman even though she lived in the brothel. Her charming service satisfied Ishgal, and he considered it opportune to have a rogue Flower Knight under his command, so he became Dianne's patron.
Dianne took off her dress and joined Ishgal in the bed. She embraced him and delivered passionate kisses on his neck and his chest. For a long while, they enjoyed the sweet sherbet of earthly pleasures to their heart's content. It was past midnight when they dropped exhausted in bed.
"I've missed Your Highness," Dianne said, cuddling with the Prince.
"It's just Ishgal for you." He kissed her forehead. "I'll make you my queen, Dianne!"
"You have to become king first," Dianne replied. "With your older sister, it'll be hard."
"I'm the heir to the throne," Ishgal said. "Alvina is a bastard, she's no threat!"
"Agil told me about Flower Swords when he trained me," Dianne said. "Each of them chooses its wielder according to the virtue it values. The Violet Sword values Freedom. It's called the Rogue of Flowers and chooses renegades who wish to live freely whatever the cost. The Rose Sword, meanwhile, values Nobility and is the Queen of Flowers. The person it chooses is destined to be queen or tie their life to the queen."
"You're saying Alvina is destined to be queen?" Ishgal frowned. "I'm the crown prince!"
"I care about Your Highness, so I warned you." Dianne hugged him. "The only threat to you is your sister. I can cut down the rest."
"Oh, thank you!" Ishgal chuckled, amused by Dianne's promise to kill his opponents. "In that case, I'll inform you when the time is ripe!" He pressed her to his naked chest. "I might need your help to oust my mother, or else she'll occupy the throne for fifty more years and ruin our kingdom with her weakness! However, the threat from Drahvelt must be eliminated before we make a move. That's why I suggested sending my little sister as a bride to the Dragon King."
"Don't you pity her, though?" Dianne looked up at him. "I hear the Dragon King is heartless."
"Amida's destined to die young anyway. She'll do something useful for our kingdom at least!" Ishgal shrugged. "It's for the best."
Dianne cuddled tighter with him, convinced that his reasoning was noble, that he deserved the throne and every hideous step he had to take for it was justified. Her heart overflowed with love for him, the only boy of her age she knew and who treated her kindly. So she was ready to fulfill his every request, even if it was to kill his mother the queen.