A blue-billed parakeet cawed loudly at her windowsill the next afternoon, and Viserion answered back with what only could amount to annoyance. If they were speaking to each other, it was unclear but the dragons were not as happy as they had been the day before. Doreah attempted to spoil them with scraps of expensive mutton she had procured at the market that morning but it was almost pointless as the squabbling amongst each other and at the noisy, unwelcome bird was making everyone restless.

Dany let out a long sigh as she brushed back her blonde fringe. "They did not sleep soundly," she informed her handmaiden as Doreah gave up her attempts to soothe the irate lizards. Instead she took a broom and swatted at the avian visitor. It again screeched loudly at her, or the dragons, it was hard to distinguish. Eventually after a few sweeps, the parrot flew off allowing some peace and quiet, at least for the moment.

There were still questions hanging over them both and a feeling that even now, not all was put right. In a bid to distract herself, Doreah appeared to immerse herself in the care of the dragons, arranging and rearranging their nests, toasting lamb over a hot candle, or singing quietly the words of lullabies Dany had never been lucky enough to hear.

Eventually, it had to break. As she walked by, pretending to be busy, Daenerys reached out quickly and grabbed ahold of Doreah's wrist, pulling her to a standstill. They said nothing to each other for what felt like ages. Not until Dany pulled her down to sit alongside her on the bed. A question that had plagued her since Doreah had first hinted at her preoccupation with the winged animals finally broke free.

"Why is it that you love my dragons so?"

A long period of silence passed as Doreah considered the question. It had been something she had asked herself many times after being woken from dreams of dragons and fire. It was also a fascination no one in Lys had ever bothered to inquire about, even when Yvessa found her scribbling disproportioned winged-beasts in the prized books of the lord of the house. A beating had sufficed instead. Since then she had slowly come to realise precisely why she was enamored to such a degree. It was simple. "They are free."

The blonde smirked at the reasoning. "That is all?"

"You ask me that as if freedom is something common as dirt, Khaleesi." Even now, something as simple as freedom was hard to come by, especially when a girl is sold to a pillow house at nine years of age. Doreah could not shake the minor irritation she felt from Dany's bemusement. "It is so much more rare, and far more precious. And, at its best, it is the very essence of power. Dragons are that in real form." Her smile lit up with the thought.

Dany laughed lightly. "Really, Doreah. Where do you come up with these ideas?" She had always enjoyed Doreah's tendency to wander off into strange worlds of imagination and philosophical meanderings but sometimes she did not understand. "Freedom is everywhere. You just need to take it."

"That is easy for you to say. You have the blood of dragons." She had not meant for her voice to ring so sharply, nor for her to overstep the tenuous boundaries that had been established. Daenerys recognised this as well and bristled in response. Yet she said nothing.

The truth was that the word "free city" was a misnomer in many ways. Free from an established king it may be, but Lys was not free at its core. Slaves were just as common as anywhere else, and prostitutes had very little sway above that of a slave, especially in a city practically over-run with pleasure houses. They were almost an expendable commodity – unless a women was exceptionally talented and beautiful, and for Doreah she had been lucky in that regard. She knew what weapon she possessed, and she brandished it skillfully without remorse but even that could only get her as far as a man was willing to allow. For those souls who had not inherited the spirit of free dragons, the bondage was inescapable. Perhaps that is where her admiration had begun. Doreah had watched carefully as Daenerys grew into her title, into her own power. It had been gradual at first but with birth of the dragons, their very life infused hers with both fervor and direction. What had been perhaps a pipe dream of ruling Westeros became a growing reality. How could anyone doubt that dragons did represent strength? And Daenerys herself personified that to Doreah. She was undoubtably taken with her, her admiration only overshadowed by her affection.

Part of her wished to be Daenerys. To have that freedom and unbridled raw strength growing inside every waking day would have meant certain escape from the bondage of her life in Lys. She watched with keen interest everything that her khaleesi did, because if she could learn even just a little, it may be enough. Choosing to stay by her side had been the first step and she did not regret it. Not even now.

Finally, Daenerys broke the silence. "You do not need dragons to have strength. Many men have never even seen one and yet they are very powerful. Doreah, you have it too. Strength and freedom. I have seen it. You proved it to me by protecting them," she said simply and gestured toward Drogon. It was true, it appeared to have taken much will and courage.

The handmaiden could not withhold her response. "It is all false. Not much more than a mask." Her tone was almost cross, tired and perhaps defeated.

"What is it exactly that is bothering you so?" Dany was not without insight. She sensed that something remained unsaid. It would be a gamble to be honest but Doreah could see no other way out. The slight irritation that was beginning to pique the blonde's normally composed casual disposition was causing friction and her own resentment was starting to crawl through every pore despite her best attempts to retain it.

It had to be said. Dany had once told her that dragons were never afraid. If she was going to start anywhere, it may as well be here.

"Khaleesi…" She second-guessed herself momentarily before plunging in. "You gave me my freedom, then took it away."

The involuntary bluster of self-defense took hold immediately as a severe frown crossed Dany's lips, her jaw setting hard against the assault. She no doubt could feel the sharp accusation like a knife and steeled herself appropriately. "That is not true!"

The khaleesi's voice took on the distinct timbre of a petulant child caught out in a lie, and Doreah was reminded again of how young she really was beneath the bravado of dragon fire and blood.

"On the Red Waste, after Khal Drogo's death, you set us all free. Until that point, I had been a whore playing at being a handmaiden. Your brother had made that abundantly clear." She paused, not out of respect for the dead but because the memory of that precise moment always caught her in a wave of powerlessness and shame. It had made her feel worthless, and continued to. All the illusions she had created about her status and skill turned to humiliation, all her fantasies she had entertained about prestige dissolved into black. She had never spoken of it to Daenerys but that did not make it hurt any less. "Then you gave us all the choice –and I had never had a real choice of my own before– and I was able to leave that behind. I chose a new purpose. No more strange men every night. No longer did I have to convince myself that being raped daily -for years on end- was the occupation I desired, lavish as Lys was. You gave me a life I had only dreamed of, one I never thought I would have. I was free."

"And so you remain, Doreah." Dany's voice was firm, but her eyes reflected a curiousity alongside a sheen of guilt perhaps at the slowly blossoming understanding behind Doreah's words.

The brunette shook her head against the words from Dany's lips. "No, Khaleesi. The moment I was told to lie with men for the sake of gathering gossip, I realised that I no longer could claim freedom from that life."

Dany still fought against the understanding of the idea, more adamantly this time. "You made no complaint," she returned resolutely, clearly recalling the shared, knowing smiles and easy acquiescence of her request. What Dany had not seen was the strength it took to force those, the habitual delusions that had immediately sprung to mind to conceal her feelings even from herself. She especially failed to realise the fact that had Daenerys wished, Doreah would have let all of Qarth take her without outward complaint, as long as it pleased the Khaleesi.

"Would I refuse the wishes of my Khaleesi?" She glances at Daenerys eyes for some speck of comprehension. She can tell that the frustration is building with the lack of it. "I did it as your handmaiden, but I was still nothing but a whore. You dressed me in nice gowns and sent me out to be disrobed by men whose names and deeds are meaningless. For your gain, not my own."

Finally, after a drawn out silence, Dany nodded, her eyes slipping closed. "I did not realise it was something you would mind."

Those words cut more deeply than perhaps anything else had thus far and Doreah struggled to keep her voice even as to not betray the pain behind her face. "Because to you, I may be your willing servant, but I am also still the slave you were given; I am still a carnal daughter of Lys." She knew she was taking a risk talking so freely and honestly about the khaleesi but the devastating feeling that she had never truly left the pleasure house loosened her tongue and lowered her inhibitions. She had always been granted slightly more leniency than the other handmaidens.

Daenerys seemed to have no rebuke. She swallowed the charge yet refused to meet Doreah's gaze. When no response came, Doreah rose slowly, prepared to take her leave. It would be a welcome reprieve. Dany finally tilted her face up to study the girl before her curiously. The words had obviously been understood now and Doreah wanted to interpret the silence as an apology since she knew one would never be forthcoming. It was not the way. An apology to a servant simply never happened. Unfortunately, the dream was broken as Daenerys did not allow her to flee.

"What of it then when you provide me with the same service? Is that an insult to your honour as well?" The tone was harsh, sarcastic almost; the recrimination clear. She was attempting to call her bluff, or perhaps some species of hypocrisy. It was already out of line to have called Dany out so she stopped, turned and bowed apologetically.

"No. Quite the opposite, Khaleesi."

"Doreah! Just – just stop," she bellowed exasperated, and the sudden sound shocked Doreah into stillness. "Speak honestly. Speak to me as my friend, not as my servant. Your anger, your pain. Is that why you stole my dragons?"

The notion that it had all been motivated by vengeance had not occurred to the handmaiden. Not consciously, at least. It had some potential for truth in the ugliest sort of repressed way. If she felt truthful, it was not outside the realm of possibility, as some unbidden, unrecognized revenge for the disgrace and injury she had felt. The long period of quiet that followed the question was enough to realise that it was being considered. Doreah could do nothing but bite down on her lower lip and wince. She did not feel able to assuredly deny the suggestion not accept it. "That was never my intention. If it was, I was not aware and did not mean it to be."

Dany's lips creased closed in an unhappy line, anger slowly burning beneath her fair skin. "You endangered my dragons for the sake of your pride?"

Despite her namesake, Daenerys Stormborn was sunshine personified, capable of lighting up a dark room when she shone, warming a hopeless heart with her determination, or flashing a blinding glare across the eyes of foolish men who dared cross her. But even more so, she burned. Hotter than any star, her heat scalded the unwary and boiled the unkind. The sunlight could give life or it could take it away. It was all about intensity.

Doreah considered this knowledge to be invaluable for many people underestimated the mother of dragons. But she also knew the one thing perhaps only one other person ever experienced: the flame of passion within Daenerys. It was mostly hidden, tended to only in secrecy and only with her now. In the night's cloak when the world around them cooled, Doreah was certain the moon reflected Dany's light, not the other way around. At times like those, desire was the only spark needed.

However, the night was not offering refuge from the heat of day at the moment. There was no balance, and such a spark could easily be found in anger and quickly burn out of control. Hot temper came from hot blood. She had no response that would please the khaleesi, especially since she was not entirely aware of her own feelings on the matter. It had not been pride per se, but something else. Pride was superficial, a clever disguise for other secret inadequacies. Her feeling that day -whatever it had been- had ached much deeper in her soul than pride could ever dare reach.

The conversation had disintegrated substantially in a few short seconds and Doreah knew there was nothing more to say that could reverse the downward direction. She shook her head silently against the accusation and lowered herself to a kneel, head bowed in submission, shadowing her self from the sun. It appeared to appease Daenerys as she did not repeat the question, did not demand an answer and the silence granted a sort of reprieve. In fact, she did not utter a word before rising from her place on the bed and walking quietly to Doreah who was surprised to feel a warm hand be laid on her head. "I never considered any alternates and that was my mistake, just as it is to snap at your with false accusations of motivation." Doreah remained frozen and afraid to make any move. "You are all I have left." Her princess' voice was weak and full of sorrow. There was much Doreah could say to argue, especially reminding her of Ser Jorah and the dragons but it would not be necessary. "Rise."

Doing as she was told, the Lysene girl stood upright, face to face but hurriedly trying to quell the nerves in her stomach. There was something in the other girl's eyes that belayed a barely restrained threat. But it was not of the destructive kind, just a dare for truth.

Dany tilted her head to the side. "Tell me, Doreah, when you come to my bed, would you do it if I was not your Khaleesi?"

The question was remarkably dangerous both in its naïvety and its answer. It was the true test. Without titles and power, without duty or responsibility, would it be the same? Would she still lavish her attention so eagerly, so desiring to please? It had been only three times, and whether the request had been borne from loneliness or frustration, it had not mattered to Doreah. It was not like the pleasure houses even if she received absolutely nothing in return. Dany had not offered any kisses or soft touches. Not even a word of thanks. She had only given restrained cries of relief as she had gripped Doreah's hair in her fists and lurched her hips up for release. But none of that had mattered strangely enough and did not make Doreah feel like she had for most of her life. Instead, it had made her happy. That was precisely what made it far too risky.

Yet, Doreah's answer came swift and sure. "Yes." She did not expound on her answer. The single syllable said enough on its own. A declaration of love comes in many forms, and some of which cannot be said outright but are understood all the same.

The simple word pounded repeatedly at her skull. Its meaning violently rattled her heart in a way she had not expected when she had asked the question. Doreah was powerful, regardless of her own self-perception. The feeling from the previous morning boiled up inside Daenerys again. There were only so many ways that she could distract herself from her debt owing and it felt as if her river had run dry. There was a feeling of something else nipping at her mind, spurring her body just a few inches closer. It was time to repay the debt. It was said that happiness had no price, and it was true that Doreah had never wished for payment nor even known what she had done. But nevertheless, happiness was worth if not money, reciprocation.

"What is it you would like most in the world?" Daenerys was fairly certain she would not be able to abide by whatever flight of fantasy Doreah concocted in response, but it would give her a better understanding. Instead of a wild idea springing forth, her handmaiden appeared to thoughtfully consider the question.

"I would like to be free."

The answer was not what Dany had been looking for and the repetition of Doreah on this theme frustrated her. If anything, it seemed too easy, particularly because it already was true. "You are. I have sworn that to you. You are free to leave as you wish, and if you stay, I will never again ask you to lay with a man for any purpose." She paused and shifted uncomfortably under Doreah's blank recognition. "You know this. What else?"

The khaleesi followed Doreah's darting gaze around the room to the pens holding her dear dragons. "No dragons," she said quickly before Doreah could ask and was met with a laugh and nod from the brunette.

"Anything?"

"Yes. Anything," she repeated, and adding for good measure with a small smile, "Other than a dragon."

Moving slightly closer, Doreah stared hard into periwinkle eyes. She obviously had thoughts twirling all around her head yet was keeping them quiet. It made Dany nervous, but the way she was looking at her shifted those nerves into something else. Something crackling and it left her a little bit breathless. Suddenly Doreah broke the moment, shook her head and frowned.

"What is all this for, Khaleesi?" It felt similar to a trap. The confusion about Dany's motivation added to the uncertainty.

"Your happiness."

The words appeared to strike hard at the brunette. They had been so unexpected. Her eyes went wide momentarily, before her forehead furrowed further at the idea. "I don't understand…"

Dany still refused to divulge her true reasons, only her intentions. She could not tell Doreah about her dream of a childhood she had never known, a happiness never experienced except in sleep by her side. "You do not need to. You and I are not so different, Doreah. Now please, what would make you happy?"

Still, the handmaiden resisted. Her suspicions were unwarranted but they were also inevitably ingrained from years of mistrust and abuse in Lys. It had been a lost childhood just the same. When no answer was forthcoming, Dany sighed.

She too had known nothing of love. She had experienced only fleeting kindness that had been stolen from her, leaving in its wake only the image of a red door and a brother obsessed with vengeance to compensate for the helplessness and rage he felt inside, his fists and words striking at the only thing he could control. Sold to a man she did not even know in exchange for more promise of bloodshed, her last remaining family betrayed what little trust she had built. Then she had been fucked, unwillingly and savagely, before she had ever even experienced her first kiss from a boy. But somewhere in that horrid mess sprung a new love, one that had only been made possible through chance and Doreah's guidance and likely would not have blossomed otherwise, ignited the smoldering embers of something she had considered long lost. Not merely sexual, it had been about freedom too. No longer would she bend to the will of her brother nor the lack of self-confidence. Her sun and stars, her Khal gave her strength beyond her dreams as he fed her sweet drops of power and respect. She lapped hungrily at the choices suddenly open to her. With Viserys' death, she was set free. There had been great suffering in order to receive it but it nonetheless became truth.

She and Doreah had both been captives, now both were free women. It struck her suddenly how intertwined those fates had been. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Dany gingerly touched her hair where braids had once been. She had victories too. Not in war, no, but for herself. Doreah's footsteps padded closer as she followed her khaleesi across the room.

"I can only think of one thing that you have not already given me," the brunette said softly, finally succumbing to the request.

"And that is?"

Doreah smirked. "It is not something one should ask of their queen."

"Then do not think of me in such a way. I am your friend and you are mine." Her impatience was getting the better of her now and Doreah's talking around the issue was tiresome. Dany reckoned this was the price to pay for having clever handmaidens.

Letting a long breath out, Doreah steeled her nerves. "Khal—."

"Daenerys. Dany."

"Pardon?"

Daenerys shifted slightly, uncertain if this was the best move. "Try again, my friend. My name is yours to speak."

Flustered, Doreah silently rolled it around on her tongue. It was strange, far too personal, yet achingly sweet. She had never heard anyone call the khaleesi by such an intimately familiar name. Even her full name was rare, as her title was what was important. It was what identified her. It could even have been a odd trick. The sharing of something deeply personal would prompt reciprocity of the same, and Dany would finally be able to lay to rest her debt. Tilting her head to the side, Doreah tested the word on her lips. "Dany."

Daenerys merely smiled at the sound with a silent indication to continue. However, even the intimacy of the name could not loosen Doreah's tongue immediately. Even though she and Dany had often spent nights alone in the khalasar just talking with each other like close friends, it had always been a struggle to admit the parts of her past that had torn at her heart. This was no different. But she preserved, almost spellbound by the magic of being granted the ability to talk freely. "When I was 16, I fell in love with a boy," she began hesitantly. "He was the son of a butcher in the market where I would occasionally accompany the other courtesans to buy wine for the men in the pillow house." Doreah paused, gathering together the shreds of memory. "He knew what I was. Of course, he did. It was obvious. But he never looked at me as everyone else had and soon going to market was something I did with great enthusiasm. Each time, he would be there and we would talk more often and I would sneak off from the other ladies in order to spend time with someone who actually appeared to like me for me, someone who saw me as more than just a whore."

Doreah looked down and touched the bandages on her arm, folding and twisting the loose ends absently. "He was the only boy I ever kissed purely by my own choice. And that is all it ever was. His father witnessed it, shamed me publicly in front of everyone, including his son. And I never saw him again." She had never been able to hold onto to anything for very long; that was the life of a slave.

A gentle quiet fell across the girls. The dragons were twittering and clucking softly amongst each other in their cages and the birds outside had mostly taken their leave for the day. Distant sounds of people in the streets occasionally bounced off the stone, but otherwise, there was silence.

"You want me to find him for you?" Dany asked, quite sure that it would be an impossible task at this stage. Lys was miles in the opposite direction.

Doreah let out a soft chuckle and shook her head, a small smile sneaking over her lips. "No, the only thing I wish is to kiss someone else by choice. That is all."

The request was so chaste and small that it made Daenerys feel guilty. Here she was commanding blood-thirsty armies, raising fire-breathing dragons and going after an iron throne, and next to her was a girl whose most pressing wish was just to be kissed without pretense. She did not like how barbaric she suddenly felt in Doreah's presence, the same girl who was meant to be the more worldly, cunning and sensual one of them both. Doreah was the one who had pleasured multiple men and women at once, who artfully taught her the ways to make love to a man, who had seen and done things Dany could not even fathom, and yet she sat here requesting no more than a kiss. It reminded Daenerys at once of the kisses she had never received until being stripped brutishly of her youth as well.

"How can I—," she stared before being cut off by the other girl.

"I want it to be with you." There was Doreah's brazen confidence again. It was pleasing to have it return. "But it must be your choice as well."

If she had blinked, it would have been entirely probable that she would have missed the almost imperceptible nod of acceptance or the way Dany's eyes took on a slightly anxious sheen. It was not a warning sign. No, it reminded Doreah very much of that time in the khal's tent as she instructed Dany in the ways of love. The look was a bit scared yes, but in an anticipatory way, more due to the fact that it was unfamiliar rather than unwanted. Looking doe-eyed into a new world was not normally a benefit afforded to grown women, but as they had both lost a significant part of their pasts, it would have to come sometime.

Kissing Daenerys Targaryen was unlike that boy in the market, and certainly nothing like anyone else she had been required to please. Young boys were awkward and inexperienced in some way, even the best of them. They were wetter, harder, more insistent from the start. That was not a particularly bad thing especially when done in love, but it was different. Older men were selfish and pushy, if only to get their moneys worth. Unlike either option, Dany was meek at first, tentative, the vestiges of her youth flaring up again, but Doreah soon felt more pressure, fingers coming up to lace in her hair. She felt soft fingertips instead of hard fists and in response, her own hands danced lightly over the curvature of Dany's waist, hidden underneath layers of fine cloth. Everything about this moment truly betrayed the gentle heart that Daenerys so adamantly insisted did not exist within the confines of her chest.

It had meant to be brief but she became lost somewhere between supple lips and pliant fingers. No man, no matter what the price he paid, had ever kissed her as Dany did. In fact, the more she was paid, the less they cared. It struck Doreah suddenly that Dany did care. She pulled back slowly hoping to gauge some sense of that from her face. The look she saw on the khaleesi's face was so reminiscent of so many, many months before when they had been alone together, the only time their mouths had been as close as now. Doreah titled her head to the side as a grateful smile slid over her lips and she ran a light hand through Dany's hair and across her cheek. She was satisfied.

"Thank you, Kh—."

Her words were silenced by the touch of Dany against her again, a bit harder this time but much more brief. When Daenerys broke the second kiss, she breathed in deeply, stealing Doreah's breath. "Dany," she reminded the handmaiden insistently before diving over to kiss her once more.

This had not been part of Doreah's request and she was taken aback momentarily by the urgency in Dany's body. They had both been alone for so long and she knew well that everyone had urges, especially girls shifting well into the peak of their womanhood and especially when they had been untouched and lonely for so long. That was natural. It was not that which surprised her; it was more so her own reaction. She had become well-accustomed to the foreplay involved in sex, the mechanics of pleasure. She had felt arousal in the past of course; it was not difficult even when it was merely a job. Desire however was a rare emotion. The two were often confused she found, and when love was on the table, it too confounded what was really happening.

Almost as if coming to the same conclusion, Daenerys backed away, the tips of her fingers touching her own lips in wonder. "I apologise," she whispered. She appeared confused about her own actions.

"Never do that," Doreah stated matter-of-factly, offering a smile to ease the khaleesi's obvious discomfort at her own wayward reaction. The curse of fair skin was the ease at which it coloured, especially into shades of crimson. Flushed as she had been from the kiss, Daenerys' cheeks took on an even deeper pink hue. "If you ever stop trying for what you want, you will no longer be Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons."

Dany allowed herself a modest smile in response, looking less uncomfortable. It was this innocence, this naivety that many would see as weakness but Doreah saw it more as opportunity. Although she was often overwhelmed and overzealous, it allowed Daenerys to take risks more seasoned warriors, like Ser Jorah, would balk at, and perhaps rightfully so. But more often than not, her methods worked. They were novel, unexpected and full of youthful nerve, as of yet unjaded by the constant ache of defeat. And, more importantly, it was precisely this same hot-headed innocence that allowed her hope to never extinguish.

"Your passion is why I admire you; it is the reason I follow you freely."

She resisted the urge to say more. It would only expose the full extent of her feelings. Like how she was always learning from her, how she was made to feel like a person instead of an object. Like how she always felt a swell of pride when her khaleesi took a stand, showed off her power and her warrior heart – one that Doreah hoped to someday have as well. Or even how her heart felt lighter when Dany would do something no other queen or khaleesi would dare to do; like freeing slaves or stopping the rape of innocent women in war. Sometimes just the incendiary timbre of Dany's voice, so surprisingly strong and sure, infused her not only with hope but also something deeper, and less definable. It was a kind of giddiness surrounded by intense satisfaction. On the fringes lurked something akin to what she believed love may actually feel like, but it was hardly necessary to name it. Only to feel it. These things about Daenerys -these words and deeds- made her different and made her special. They filled Doreah with the same sort of inspiration. She knew finally that it was not how one begins a journey, but the steps one took during its course.

Shifting closer, Doreah carefully took Dany's hand in both of her own. Reverently, as she had seen commoners do to high lords and kings, she brought the future queen's fingers closer and brushed a kiss over them, maintaining eye contact. "As I will always," she said finally, blinking slowly up at Daenerys.

The blonde said nothing, nodding once very slightly in acknowledgement of the vow as her fingertips slipped free and she traced the pad of her thumb along Doreah's lower lip, as if touching the promise itself. Her own echo was carried back. Teal blue eyes met and held with her own lavender ones.

"If you choose, Doreah, and only if you choose," she began as she lowered their joined hands to her lap. "I would welcome you to stay the night with me. Would you?" Although it sounded rather formal, and despite there being little doubt about the response, Dany displayed a shyness in her offer. There was no indication that it would proceed further than one more night but it felt heavy with intent all the same. Moreover, perhaps it was the consequence that gave Dany pause: a promise of a sleep without nightmares, a happiness sowed. It was a debt she would gladly take on again.

Very little could cause the past courtesan to blush, but just the slightest hint of pink shaded in Doreah's cheeks as she nodded. A chance. A choice. Hers alone. Doreah took a deep breath, recognising finally the luscious flavour of her freedom.

Maybe she wasn't highborn. Maybe she did not have the blood of dragons. But maybe it did not matter; she felt as if she did all the same.

Her first smile as a free woman stretched across her lips and she nodded.

THE END