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One cannot fly in two directions at once. I cannot perch among those who think that I am broken. I scan the text recorded on my note block. To it I add: Love is not a disease.
Sitting there so close to him was almost the scariest thing of all because the kindness in his face made me feel safe, and I knew it for an illusion.
“He was going to kill you,” I said, my chin quivering. “I had to do something.” Damn propriety. Forgive me, St. Clare. I stepped forward and took him in my arms. He was exactly my height, which surprised me; my awe of him had made him seem taller.
How dare the world be beautiful when I was so horrifying?
It is hard to play submissive all the time, but my father accepts no other stance from his children, and he outweighs me by a factor of two. The day will come when the strength of our intellects counts for more than physical power. That is Comonot’s dream and I believe in it, but for now I bow my head. Dragons are slow to change.
“She is my friend, not some vile, deceitful dragon! Smell her and affirm it.”
I had never seen the rift between our peoples laid out so starkly. These saarantrai wouldn’t lift a finger for the humans in this room;
“You knew she was a saar and my father was human, and you never told anyone?” He heaved himself to his feet and limped over to the window. “I’m a Daanite. I don’t go around criticizing other people’s love affairs.”
“So I’ve gone and revealed how much I admire your work for nothing. Now you’ll feel free to laze around self-importantly, I suppose!” “Viridius, no,” I said, stepping toward him and impulsively kissing his balding head. “I’m well aware that that’s your job.”
He said, “Love requires extreme correction. It’s the emotional state we teach our students to guard against most carefully. It presents an actual danger to a saar because, you see, our scholars who fall in love don’t want to come back. They don’t want to be dragons anymore.”
