A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania 2) - Page 120

Right looked at me with faint disdain. “Your blood. It’s been tainted.”

“Oh no he didn’t,” Gary breathed.

“Oh yes he did,” Tiggy said, growling low in his throat.

“I’m going to not make any assumptions here,” I said slowly. “Because I want to be clear on what you mean.”

Left was confused, like he couldn’t sense the simmering anger. “Your father, of course. The northern people, pale as the snow. It has lightened your skin and diluted your blood. Your magic would be so much more if you were pure and from the gypsy clan. You are too… white.”

“Tiggy,” Gary snarled. “Hold me back. Hold me back!”

Tiggy grabbed on to him tightly.

Gary began to struggle. “Let me at him, you overgrown assface! Tiggy, let me at ’em!”

And I… well. I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know that I’d ever been discriminated against for the color of my skin. Yes, I wasn’t as dark as the people in the gypsy city, and yes, my father was white, but it wasn’t a problem in the City of Lockes. Or Meridian City. Or anywhere else I’d traveled in Verania.

But before I did something rash and accidentally exploded them where they stood, I thought maybe it didn’t actually have to do with me, per se. Yes, they were talking about me, but it—

“My father is a good man,” I said, voice as even as possible. “My mother is a great woman.”

And there it was. The matching looks of derision. It wasn’t so much that I was lighter in skin than they were, but more the prejudice over the fact that my mother had chosen to leave the clan rather than forsake her love. They saw me as tainted not because of my father, but because of my mother’s choice.

You know what?

Fuck these guys.

I ignored the crowd that had started to gather around us, people whispering to each other, eyeing us warily. They were inconsequential at the moment. If they pressed forward any farther, then we’d have a problem. But right now, they were on the periphery.

Ryan had his hand on his sword, still sheathed at his side. He sounded like he was barely in control of his fury when he spoke. “I am the Knight Commander of the Castle Guard, serving under Good King Anthony and the Grand Prince of Verania. But if you say something like that again to Sam, I will cut your mothercracking heads off.”

“And then I will bathe in your blood and put unicorn curses on your children!” Gary shrieked.

“So badass,” I whispered reverently.

Kevin had ambled his way back over, the wooden platforms creaking under his weight. “Hear me, O people of Malapala.”

“It’s Mashallaha,” I told him.

“Mashamasha.”

“Mashallaha.”

“Macarena.”

“Kevin, just threaten them already!”

“Right, right. Ahem. Ahem. Hear me, people of Mash Potatoes…”

“Oh my gods.”

“…I am a benevolent Lord Dragon, but I can also kick some major ass if called upon to do so. You may bask in my presence—in fact, I encourage you to do so because I am glorious—but if there is one wrong move made toward Sam of Wilds, I will burn the flesh from your bones.”

The crowd took a step back.

“Damn right,” Kevin growled. “I have motherfucking spaketh. Now give me your shiny shit and get out of my sight, you racist dickbags.”

I don’t think I’d ever seen so much gold thrown in my direction before in my life. I felt like a high-class stripper.

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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