The first ray of morning sunlight had already descended. Screech! A shrill cry echoed in Reika's ears, jolting her awake.
Cayman's eyes snapped open. He glanced at the nearby Igalas, his eyelids twitching in irritation. He squeezed Reika tightly, venting his displeasure at being awakened so rudely.
Reika let out a small grunt, glaring at him. "If you break it, you might as well prepare to find a wet nurse for the child."
Cayman replied with a smile, his grip easing. "It won't break. I am well aware."
Igalas, now noticeably larger than his birth size of thirty centimeters, was growing at an astonishing rate. His diet of venison was depleting the estate's stocks, prompting Cayman to make a decision: starting today, Igalas would switch to more affordable lamb.
After getting dressed with Reika's assistance, Cayman took the young dragon to the kitchen warehouse. The cooks had just slaughtered a plump sheep, and the ground was slick with blood. Igalas's eyes sparkled, his entire body straining toward the feast.
However, just as he prepared to dart forward, Cayman suddenly commanded, "Stop, Iglas!" His words were in the pure, guttural tones of Ancient Valyria.
Perhaps Igalas did not fully grasp the meaning, but he understood the intent from Cayman's expression and tone. A look of profound confusion adorned his small head. Why would his rider deny him food?
"Be quiet, Iglas," Cayman issued another command.
Igalas, who had been about to let out an impatient screech, closed his mouth and watched Cayman silently. The bond forged by the golden sapling made the hatchling deeply reliant; he never defied a direct order. Cayman noted this obedience with satisfaction but had no intention of easing the training. On the battlefield, their synergy would be vital.
The young dragon stared anxiously at the bloody sheep, his crimson-tipped tail flicking back and forth in evident agitation. Cayman waited, watching the cooks efficiently chop off the sheep's head, before finally issuing the command for Igalas to flame the meat.
Upon receiving the order, Igalas leapt upwards, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire that charred a leg of lamb. He then fell upon it with unrestrained delight.
The chef, Marwan, swallowed hard. It was his first close encounter with the dragon. The creature's ferocity instilled a profound fear in him. Should that fire be directed at him, would he not be reduced to ashes?
"My lord, your breakfast is ready. Shall we proceed to dine?" Marwan inquired cautiously, casting furtive glances at the voracious Igalas.
Cayman chuckled heartily, patting Marwan on the shoulder. "Rest assured, Igalas is not so foolish as to harm you without cause."
At these words, Marwan felt tears welling up, yet he forced a nod of feigned composure. He had contemplated suggesting the dragon be fed elsewhere. If it became accustomed to dining here, would it not soon be making frequent, dangerous visits to the storeroom? Gathering his courage, he voiced his concern about a potential fire.
Cayman nodded in agreement. "Marwan, you are among the first of my loyal servants. Your son serves as my wine steward, while your wife oversees all the maids. I place my trust in you." He looked earnestly at the ravenous dragon.
Marwan, no fool, understood the underlying message: his family's position was secure, bound to Cayman's fortunes. "My lord, rest assured. Every ingredient has been personally selected by me. The maids who serve you have been meticulously chosen by my wife."
"What have you prepared for breakfast today?" Cayman asked, changing the subject.
"A small lamb chop, a fried egg, a slice of honey-glazed bacon bread, and a warm glass of milk."
"Thank you. You always know how to satisfy my palate, just as you did a decade ago." Marwan scratched his head, opting for silence. A decade prior, when Cayman was just one of Benick's many impoverished bastards, Marwan had often slipped him extra food. That loyalty had not been forgotten.
Igalas swiftly devoured the entire lamb, contentedly licking his lips. "Its appetite is remarkable," Marwan marveled. "In time, it will only grow. Soon, we shall relocate to the contested lands."