The knife gleamed dully in the torchlight, its blade nicked and stained with old blood.

  The goblin princess, Rou-Ya, stared at it with her golden eyes, her face carefully blank, and tried to summon even the faintest spark of interest as was expected of her. Her pale green skin carried an almost luminescent quality that flashed in the lightning strikes of the storm that fit her mood, smooth and unmarred. She failed to find any value in the weapon. It was crude and poorly balanced, and the carved bone handle was already cracking. Worthless, in other words. But tradition demanded she accept it with grace.

  "Thirty," the suitor said. He was ugly even for a goblin; his skin was a mottled brown-green, and he looked at her with undisguised hunger.

  She took the knife with both hands, the intricate tribal markings on her arms flowing across her shoulders in deliberate patterns as she moved. The traditional symbols emphasised her status, accentuating her natural frame in ways her suitors clearly appreciated. She forced her lips into something approximating a smile.

  "Thank you. It's a... very nice gift."

  Her black hair, braided back in a practical style, contrasted sharply against her skin as she turned to set the knife aside. As was the way of such matters, the tribal markings along her hips were designed specifically to draw attention to her shape. While the hunters of the area had marks on their skin showing their greatest kills, and the sages had protective markings of magical power, as a tribal princess she just had a visual declaration of her value as the designated bearer of the next generation.

  The crowd murmured. Whispers rippled through the assembled goblins, most of them assessing and calculating. The suitor puffed up his chest and strutted back to the crowd, clearly pleased with himself.

  The princess set the knife aside with the growing pile of offerings and tried not to think about what the number meant. Thirty children. Thirty pregnancies. Thirty screaming infants that she would be expected to bear and raise while he went off hunting or raiding or doing whatever it was that made him think he deserved to be chieftain.

  Rou-ya was certain that she was going to be sick. She hated this.

  Three days ago, she'd tried to run.

  She'd packed a small bag, taken some food from the communal stores, and waited until the middle of the night. The forest beyond the village seemed vast, dark, and full of possibilities as she carefully made her way out, making a wide circle around the lingering mushroom circles in the woods. In her desperation, she even stopped and wished for the little ones who lived there in those mushrooms, according to old legend.

  — That was superstitious nonsense in this day and age, but she was desperate.

  It was her only shot at freedom. She had the opportunity to become something more than just a prize.

  The hunters had caught her before she'd made it half a mile.

  They'd dragged her back, laughing that she had gone off to the wilds as she was always wont to do, and her mother, the deceased chieftain's wife, had locked her in the ceremonial hut until the contest began. After that it was said that there would be no more delays. Tradition was tradition, and the tribe needed a new leader now that the old chieftain had died.

  The clans were called together, and now, here she was.

  The next suitor approached the platform, and the crowd's murmuring grew louder.

  He was massive, easily the largest goblin in the tribe, his shoulders broad and his arms corded with muscle. Scars crisscrossed his chest and face, each one a story of survival. He was the strongest hunter of the mountain tribe, and everyone knew it.

  He held something out to her. He held out a skull dripping with rainwater, its fangs still intact. Wolf, probably. Freshly killed and cleaned.

  She would have almost been flattered, actually, that he would put in such effort for her hand. But instead of looking at her as he offered his very respectable gift, he instead turned to face the crowd.

  "One hundred," he proclaimed.

  The murmurs became shouts. One hundred. The number was obscene, almost unthinkable. It was a boast of virility, strength, and absolute confidence. And if he failed to deliver, if he didn't sire one hundred children through her, tradition demanded he be put to death in the most horrible way the tribe could devise. Goblins reproduced in litters, but even with that, a hundred is an astronomical number.

  It was meant to show courage. This was done to demonstrate his leadership qualities.

  Rou-ya felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of being stuck with a boaster like that. For the brief flash of an instant as he approached, she entertained the fantasy of riding away with a brave hunter toward the horizon. But that fantasy shattered immediately because of the pressure of the rising vomit in her guts. She never wanted to be the princess, let alone have the obligations of one. But here she was, stuck where the stars put her. It wouldn’t be as bad if she actually liked any of them, but she’s never really found other goblins… suitable. In Rou-ya’s eyes, it wasn’t that she herself was arrogant; it’s just that they were all disgusting, stupid, and ugly, and she was better than they were. She was the princess of a kingdom of filth.

  Rou-ya forced herself to speak. "Oh... thank you."

  Her voice came out flat, dead. She took the skull and set it aside, along with the knife, the necklaces, and the other useless trinkets. The hunter grinned at her, showing all his teeth, then stepped back to join the crowd.

  The rain hammered down harder, turning the ground to mud and making the torches sputter. The awning overhead kept the worst of it off the platform, but water still dripped through gaps in the woven thatch.

  The next suitor climbed onto the stage.

  He was grey and unremarkable, the kind of goblin who usually faded into the background. But there was something different about him tonight from the other times Rou-Ya had seen him on the periphery. His eyes were bright with triumph, and he held something clutched tight to his chest.

  A coin.

  He held it up for her to see, and the princess stared at it, unimpressed.

  "One coin?" she asked. She didn't even bother to hide the disdain in her voice this time. This was just insulting, even if she didn’t want to be here. A single coin. Others had brought entire chests full of coins, stolen from human caravans. What was one piece of gold supposed to prove?

  "Not just a coin," he said quickly. He turned to the crowd, holding it higher. "A coin taken from the howling cave."

  The crowd went silent.

  Then the whispers exploded. The howling cave. The cursed place on the mountain where bones appeared regularly, where something dangerous had taken up residence these past few darknesses. The tribe had learnt to avoid it, to stay far away, because those who ventured too close never came back in the past.

  "I went into the dragon's den," he continued, his voice growing stronger. "I took this from the beast's hoard. For her."

  He pointed at Rou-ya.

  The crowd erupted. Shouts and cheers and gasps of disbelief. A dragon. A real dragon. And he'd stolen from it and lived.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  "One hundred and one," he said, looking directly at the princess now.

  The crowd went wild.

  The princess just thought he was stupid.

  Suicidally, catastrophically stupid. If there really was a dragon in that cave, stealing from it was the worst possible idea. Dragons didn't forgive theft. Everyone knew that. The stories they were told by their elders about the vengeful beasts that used to own the world were just as fresh now as they were in the past, when they still existed in numbers. And now he'd brought the proof here, to the village, probably leading the creature straight to them.

  Idiot.

  Since nobody was mentioning it, not even the village sages, Rou-Ya opened her mouth to say something about the matter, anything, when a roar split the night. That was most certainly not thunder.

  Every goblin in the village froze.

  The sound shook the ground beneath their feet.

  Then fire exploded against the outer walls.

  Screams filled the air. The wooden palisade caught fire despite the rain, flames roaring upward and casting everything in hellish orange light. Bodies flew through the air, goblins flung aside by something massive and unstoppable.

  A silhouette stampeded through the village directly through the soldiers at the gate, black and terrible, smashing through every hunter and guard that tried to stop it. Weapons shattered against dark scales and claws of the same obsidian hue. Black fangs raked through flesh. A long and powerful tail whipped through the air, sending goblins flying in droves.

  "MONSTER!" someone screamed as the ceremony devolved into panic.

  A flung goblin guard crashed into the staging area, his body crumpling against the platform supports. He collided with the last suitor, who stumbled backward with a yelp as the two of them flew away in a heap. The stolen coin flew from his hands, spinning through the air.

  Rou-ya watched it arc toward her in slow motion.

  She tried to dodge.

  But the coin hit her open mouth and she swallowed reflexively, choking as it lodged in her throat. She swallowed it, gasping for breath. Anarchy devolved around her, as everyone was too concerned with the threat to see her suffocating.

  Chaos. Goblins ran in every direction, screaming, trampling each other. The fires spread. The rain hissed against burning wood. And through it all, the black shadow cut a path of destruction, moving with terrifying purpose straight toward the platform.

  "A dragon!" an elder shrieked. "The curse is real!"

  The creature burst into the torchlight, and the princess got her first clear look at it.

  A partial dragon, smaller than the giants conveyed in stories, covered in obsidian scales that gleamed wetly in the rain. But it had the shape of a person, at least in part. Her ruby eyes were wild and raging, and her pupils contracted to slits so tight that they could cut a throat. The dragon’s massive tail lashed behind her, tearing through the soil, and her claws were slick with fresh blood. She was panting, rabid, every muscle in her body coiled with barely contained violence.

  She vaulted onto the platform in a single leap.

  The remaining goblins scattered as the shape flew over them and Rou-Ya saw her life flashing before her eyes. It landed with a crash. The dragon girl's gaze locked onto the princes. Her clawed hand closed around the princess's throat, yanking her forward.

  Rou-ya choked, her eyes watering, the coin still lodged somewhere in her oesophagus.

  The dragon girl leaned in, her nose pressed against Rou-ya, inhaling deeply. Her eyes blazed with draconic greed, and when she spoke, her voice was low and dangerous.

  "I've come for what's mine. And for taking it, you’re going to make this right," warned the dragon. “I want repayment for my troubles,” she growled, glaring into her eyes.

  'Repayment'

  The princess's mind raced.

  Oh. Oh no.

  This was certainly a suitor’s challenge. She’s here for the ceremony. The motive must be revenge for the stolen coin. Of course, the dragon is not of the tribe, which would invalidate her claim. But the dragon holding her by the throat gives her enough credence to have a say in it.

  Tradition often conflicts with reality.

  "H-how many?" the princess stammered.

  The dragon girl pulled back slightly, confusion flickering across her face. Then her expression hardened.

  "I'll start with just the one."

  Her fingers pressed against the princess's lower belly, testing and probing it. Rou-ya was certain she was checking her body, obviously testing its capability to produce.

  Barjuchne thought about it. The goblins could pay her in more coins, more treasure.

  Her fingers pressed against the goblin’s belly. She could feel her stolen coin inside of her. How troublesome. She could slice her open, but something is stopping her. The crown on the goblin’s head, most likely.

  A princess?

  For now, Barjuchne just wanted just the one coin back. But she would take more later as reimbursement for her emotional anguish.

  The goblin princess's face went scarlet as she understood things her way. ‘Just the one?' Just one child. That was... that was manageable. That was infinitely better than one hundred. And the dragon was – well. She was terrifying, yes. Not only was she frightening, but she also possessed an alluring, predatory aura. She was undoubtedly more attractive than any of the repulsive goblins who had been paraded in front of her all night. They’re all so gross. But… she’s a goblin and the dragon is… well, a dragon. Would that even work? She had no idea how dragons did things. Maybe it was different. It wasn’t unheard of for goblins to intermingle with humans now and then. Perhaps it was similar.

  An idea formed. Rou-Ya was nothing if not a schemer, capable of making a bad situation hers.

  It was a desperate, insane, yet undoubtedly brilliant idea. This madness was her ticket out of here. This was how she would escape her tribe.

  "Very well, Dragon," Rou-ya said. Her voice came out steadier than she expected. "Under the condition that you spare my tribe your wrath, I will give you everything you want," she said, clasping her hands and doing her best to look deeply sanctimonious for everyone watching. “I will become your bride. I will give you what you want.”

  The crowd roars in shock.

  In reality, she cared very little about what happened to them all. But she could sell this as some enormous sacrifice that she was making for them. The dragon would take her away and she’d be free from her traditions.

  The stars have finally lined up for her. Rou-Ya can’t help but smirk at her luck.

  The crowd, what remained of it, spoke in loud cries and asked questions.

  The dragon girl's eyes narrowed, glaring at the princess. "I want it now."

  The princess's face went even redder. Now? Right now? Here? In front of everyone? "I – at least I –" she stuttered. "At least somewhere private?" she pleaded.

  Bride? This again?

  Barjuchne just wanted the coin back.

  As for the matter of privacy, that is a fair request. Usually, she wouldn’t care about such things. But her draconic instincts leave her no choice but to offer a blood princess some dignity.

  Barjuchne narrowed her eyes in annoyance, not thinking too much about it for the sake of her sanity.

  She has no choice then. She won’t let her coin be outside of her cave, but it’s stuck inside the goblin. So, there’s nothing to do but to take the goblin too somewhere private.

  The dragon girl glared at her for a long moment. Then she turned to leave, grabbing a sack of treasure with her free hand and hoisting it over her shoulder. The princess dangled from her other hand, still held by the throat. “I’m taking you with me,” she says.

  But as they reached the edge of the platform, the dragon girl stopped.

  The entire goblin tribe had fallen to their knees. Every single one of them, prostrate in the mud, their heads bowed.

  "We are the dragon clan!" one of them called out, his voice shaking with religious fervour.

  The others took up the chant. "Dragon clan! Dragon clan! Dragon clan!"

  "Hail the Dragon Queen!"

  The dragon girl stared blankly at them.

  “You’re not!” yelled the goblin princess at her tribe in frustration. But they all seemed to be ignoring her.

  Veliah stood at the cave entrance, arms crossed, and watched the procession approach through the rain from above.

  Barjuchne led the way, soaking wet, covered in blood that wasn't hers, carrying a goblin princess in one hand and a sack of treasure in the other. Behind her, a veritable legion of goblins trudged up the mountain path, their arms laden with carts full of loot, weapons, and supplies.

  They filed into the cave one by one, depositing their burdens in growing piles around the central chamber, then retreating outside to make camp in the glade below the cave.

  Veliah watched the entire thing in silence.

  After the last goblin had deposited the final cart and scurried away, Barjuchne gently set the captured goblin princess on top of the treasure hoard and turned to face Veliah.

  Their eyes met. "What?" Barjuchne asked. “I found a new thing.”

  Veliah sighed. "...Nothing." She turned and walked back to her room, closing the door quietly behind her. Barjuchne shrugged to herself.

  The goblin princess sat on the hoard and looked around at her new home. This was fine. The present situation was definitely better than having one hundred children.

  Probably.

  “Open your mouth wide and don’t move,” came the harsh, barking command from above her immediately as that thought ended. Rou-ya’s face felt pale and she turned her gaze toward the dragon. “Or this is going to hurt a lot,” promised her rescuer. The goblin princess Rou-ya looked upward just in time as the dragon grabbed her face and pushed a long claw forward past her lips, activating her gag reflex immediately.

  It was a minute later.

  Barjuchne’s eyes shone with the joy of a mother holding her only newborn child.

  A dripping wet coin was held up in the air by the beast, who was staring at the vomit-covered metal with such love in her expression that she may well have been filled with the grace of heaven itself in her heart. Overjoyed at having it back, the dragon held the still-wet coin against her face, nuzzling it affectionately.

  “I’ll never let anyone touch you again. I promise,” swore the dragon to the coin. The coin did not respond. It would have been odd if it had.

  Behind her, the goblin lay on all fours, coughing and spluttering near a puddle of vomit as she washed her mouth.

  Barjuchne would help her clean up in just a moment. But things do have different priorities in life, after all.

  ! A higher rating attracts new readers who can support me, so I can write more for you!

  - Don’t have a RoyalRoad account? -

  (Or referral code "RR-EA62-A29A") for 100 FREE XP!

  - (ENTER: 'DMRHODES' TO SAVE 15%!)

  -

  | | | |