It happens on the road. Of course it does.
Wide enough to pretend it's civilized. Empty enough to guarantee it isn't.
We spot each other at the same time.
Me, mid-stride, still nursing the ghost of an anis headache, Loma walking behind me trying very hard to look like a respectable kidnapped person. The Dragon is… elsewhere. Judging. Always judging.
The man coming toward us is armored. Polished. Sun catching on too many edges. Cape clean. Sword heroic. Jaw infuriatingly familiar.
We stop.
We stare.
"You," he says.
"You," I say.
In unison.
Sir Ogden.
Paladin. Professional nuisance. Man-shaped bad decision.
There's a beat where neither of us moves, like the world itself is holding its breath.
"…I was sent," he says slowly, eyes narrowing, "to rescue a kidnapped princess."
"Oh for—" I start.
Then his gaze slides past me.
To Loma.
Barefoot. Hair braided wrong. Hands politely folded in front of her like she's waiting to be announced at court. She gives a tiny, hopeful smile. Princess smile. The one that says please don't stab anyone near me.
Ogden's face drains of color.
"Oh," he says.
Then, quieter:
"Oh fuck."
Loma perks up. "Oh! You recognized me!"
He blinks. Looks at her. Looks back at me. Looks at her again.
"You're actually—" He swallows. "You're actually the princess."
"Yes," she says brightly. "Formerly."
He drags a hand down his face.
"I thought this was another one of your scams," he says to me. "A fake. A prop. A—"
"A what," I ask sweetly. "A dress-up hostage?"
He ignores me.
"I marched two days for this," he mutters. "I argued with a magistrate. I filed paperwork."
"Tragic," I say. "Truly."
He looks at Loma again. She waves. Small wave. Royal but friendly.
"…She looks cold," he says weakly.
"She is," I snap. "And hungry. And abandoned by half of Longland's aristocracy. You here to lecture or help?"
He opens his mouth.
Closes it.
Opens it again.
"…I was told to retrieve her," he says, voice gone thin. "Safely. With honor."
I grin. Slow. Mean.
"Well," I say, "you're late, shiny boy. And you're not getting her for free."
Loma tilts her head. "Sir Ogden? Do paladins come with shoes?"
He makes a small, broken sound.
"Oh fuck," he repeats.
From somewhere very nearby, the Dragon clears his throat.
Ogden freezes.
Slowly turns his head.
Sees the shadow.
The wings.
The teeth.
"…This," he says hoarsely, "is much worse than the briefing."
I crack my neck.
"Welcome to the negotiation phase," I say. "Try not to die. She hates that."
Loma nods earnestly.
***
Loma steps up before Ogden can find his spine.
She does that polite-princess tilt of the head. The one that looks harmless and absolutely is not.
"So," she says sweetly, "how is your milkmaid?"
Silence drops like a dropped plate.
Ogden goes pale. Not heroic pale. Caught pale.
"I—uh—" He gestures vaguely. "She… milks."
I snort.
"She had very nice cows," Loma adds, nodding to herself. "You were quite enthusiastic about them."
Ogden looks at me, desperate. "Saya."
"Oh no," I say, hands up. "Don't look at me. I didn't seduce anyone with dairy products."
Loma folds her hands, wounded but dignified.
"You said it was just one drink," she says. "And then you didn't come back for three days."
Ogden rubs his face like he's trying to erase the last year.
"Look," he blurts, turning to me, "I took a down payment on the rescue."
I blink. "You took what."
"Half up front," he says miserably. "I need to bring her back."
"Buzz off, Ogden."
"My reputation—"
"Still buzzing."
He stops. Looks at the way Loma stands just a bit too comfortably beside me. The rope coil at my belt. The Dragon's shadow stretching over the road like a bad omen.
Understanding creeps in.
"…Oh," he says.
I beam. "Oh?"
"You two are in on it."
Loma nods. "Yes."
"You agreed to split the ransom."
"Two ways," Loma says promptly.
"Three," I say.
Ogden squints. "Three?"
"The Dragon," I say. "He's expensive."
Loma blinks. "…Oh."
Ogden lets out a tired laugh. "Of course. Of course you did."
He looks at Loma, softer now. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
She considers this.
"Next time," she says kindly, "don't cheat on princesses with milkmaids."
The Dragon snorts. I choke laughing.
Ogden sighs. "So. What do you want."
I grin. "Gold. Shoes for her. And you pretending this was all very heroic."
He nods immediately. "Deal."
Loma smiles. Just a little.
Business, apparently, is healing.
***
We end up sitting right there on the road like idiots.
Dusty stones. Packs kicked aside. The Dragon coiled half around a milestone like it's a throne he's temporarily tolerating. Ogden squats awkwardly, armor creaking, dignity leaking out between the joints. Loma sits with her legs tucked to one side, arms folded, chin high. I sprawl because of course I do.
Silence. Thinking silence. The dangerous kind.
The Dragon breaks it first.
"I don't like this," he says. "We should not include him."
Ogden opens his mouth.
"No," the Dragon adds, without looking at him. "Your down payment and your reputation are your problem."
Ogden deflates a little.
"I also," I say lazily, "do not want you dogging me for days. You get very persistent when you think you're right."
"I am right," Ogden protests weakly.
"You are loud," I correct.
Loma sniffs.
"I still don't see why he's even here," she says. "He smells like horse. And betrayal."
Ogden winces. "Loma, please—"
She turns her head away dramatically. Full shoulder. Princess-level snub.
He looks at me, desperate again. "I just need to finish the rescue. Please."
I sigh, rub my forehead.
"Fine," I say. "Only way she's going anywhere with you is if you split your rescue reward."
Ogden blinks. "Split it?"
"Yes."
"With you?"
"With us."
He groans. "That's— that's extortion."
"Correct," I say. "You're learning."
He mutters under his breath, then nods. "Alright. Half. I'll give you half."
Loma snaps her head around.
"No."
Ogden freezes. "No?"
"Three ways," she says firmly.
He looks at her. Then at me. Then at the Dragon.
"…Three?"
"Four," I say instantly.
Ogden squints. "Four?"
I point my thumb over my shoulder.
"The Dragon is part of the package."
The Dragon inclines his head graciously, like this was never in question.
Ogden stares at the three of us. Then laughs. A short, broken laugh.
"You're all insane."
"Yes," I say cheerfully. "But we're very fair."
He exhales. Long. Painful.
"…Fine. Four ways."
Loma relaxes immediately.
"Good," she says. "Then I'm satisfied."
Ogden blinks. "That was… fast."
She smiles at him. Sweet. Sharp.
"I forgive slowly," she says. "But I negotiate quickly."
The Dragon chuckles low in his chest.
I clap my hands.
"Excellent," I say. "Everyone hates this equally. That means it's a deal."
Ogden slumps back onto the road, staring up at the sky.
"I should have stayed with the cows," he mutters.
Somewhere in Longland, destiny takes notes and quietly pours itself another drink.
***
Loma is still tied up.
This is important.
Ogden's horse—heroic lineage, tragic judgment—stands patiently while Loma is unceremoniously thrown over the saddle like an inconvenient sack of virtue. Feet in the air. Skirt doing its best. Head dangling on the other side.
"Ah—!" Loma yelps. "Saya! This is undignified."
I step back, hands on hips, appraising the situation.
"No," I say. "This is very dignified. Classic kidnapping posture."
Ogden winces. "Couldn't she—maybe—sit normally?"
"She wriggles," I say. "This discourages wriggling."
Loma tries anyway. The horse flicks an ear.
"I can see the road upside down," she complains. "And your ankles look smug from this angle."
"Focus," I say. "You're being monetized."
I point a finger at Ogden.
"Right. We wait here. You come back with the money in three days."
He nods. "Three days."
"No funny business," I add. "No delays. No 'oh sorry the treasury was closed' nonsense."
"I understand."
"And," I continue, leaning in, voice sharp now, "if the royals don't pay up—"
Ogden opens his mouth.
"—don't," I say, "try to sell her."
There's a beat.
Loma yelps again. "Sell me?!"
Ogden recoils. "I would never!"
I look him dead in the eye.
"Oh, you absolutely would."
"I would not!"
"You're already halfway there," I say. "You took a down payment."
"That's different!"
"It's exactly the same," I say. "Just with better PR."
Loma twists as much as the ropes allow. "Sir Ogden, if you sell me, I will never forgive you."
He pales. "I'm not selling anyone!"
"Good," I say. "Because if you do, I will find you."
The Dragon looms closer. Just enough shadow. Just enough teeth.
"And," the Dragon adds mildly, "I will eat your horse first. Slowly."
The horse snorts. Ogden swallows.
"Three days," Ogden says quickly. "Gold. All above board. No selling. No tricks."
Loma sighs, upside down. "…Could I at least have my feet lowered?"
"No," I say cheerfully. "That's part of the experience."
Ogden swings up into the saddle, grimacing.
"I'll be back," he says.
"You'd better be," I reply. "We're very patient. And very resentful."
He nudges the horse forward.
As they ride off, Loma calls back, voice wobbling:
"Saya?"
"Yes, princess."
"…If I throw up on his boots, does that count as leverage?"
I grin.
"Oh," I say. "That counts as interest."
***
Ogden and the horse disappear down the road at a slow, dutiful clip. Loma's feet still visible for a while, waving faintly like a distress flag until the hill swallows them.
Silence settles.
The Dragon watches them go. Then turns his long head toward me.
"…You are aware," he says calmly, "that this will go badly."
I sigh. Long. World-weary.
"Okay, okay."
He waits.
"Loma has a crush on Ogden," I admit.
The Dragon blinks once.
"…And?"
"And that complicates things," I say. "Feelings. Emotions. Princess nonsense."
He tilts his head, studying me now instead of the road.
"You also have a crush on Ogden."
I snap upright. "I do not."
"You do."
"It's not like that."
The Dragon gives me the slowest side-eye in recorded history.
"You have slept with him multiple times."
I wave a hand. "That's just carnal."
"Carnal."
"Yes."
He leans closer, voice dry as old parchment.
"The three of you—Loma, Ogden, and yourself—have shared a bed on more than one occasion."
I look away. Adjust my bracelets. Inspect my nails. Anything but eye contact.
"That was… situational."
"Six ways till Sunday," he adds helpfully.
"That is an exaggeration."
"It is not."
I huff. Kick a pebble.
"It was just… you know…"
He waits.
"…exploring," I finish.
"Exploring."
"Releasing energy."
"Energy."
"Yes."
He stares at me like I just tried to explain economics using soup.
"You attempted to stab him last time," he says.
"He deserved it."
"You bit him."
"He liked it."
"You cried afterward."
"That was the wine."
The Dragon settles back on his coils, deeply unimpressed.
"You are emotionally entangled," he says.
"I am financially motivated," I correct.
He gestures down the road with his snout.
"You just sent your princess accomplice away with your paladin lover to collect ransom money."
I pause.
"…When you say it like that, it sounds messy."
"It is messy."
I cross my arms, defensive.
"It'll be fine. He needs the money. She needs closure. I need profit."
"And if they run off together."
I hesitate.
"…Then I'll track them down," I say. "Shake Ogden until coins fall out."
"And if she forgives him."
I make a face.
"Then she's an airhead."
"And if you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
He says nothing.
Just looks at me.
Long enough that I finally groan and throw my hands up.
"Fine," I snap. "He's hot. Happy?"
The Dragon smiles faintly.
"I have always appreciated your honesty."
I flop down on a rock, watching the empty road where they vanished.
"…Three days," I mutter.
"Three days," he agrees.
We sit there a while.
Then he adds, almost kindly:
"You should prepare for complications."
I sigh.
"Oh, I am," I say. "Emotionally, financially, and possibly sexually."
He groans.
And somewhere down that road, destiny is already sharpening its knives.