CHAPTER 55: INSOLENCE!

"..."

"PWUAHAHAHAHA!"

"No. No, seriously?!"

"Grrrrrr!"

"HAHAHAHA!"

"I’m so sorry, My Lord! I really didn’t mean to react like this," Riley wheezed, clutching his stomach as he fought to keep himself from howling any louder. He knew he was risking his life laughing like this at a dragon, but the sight before him was simply too much.

Oh, wait—he probably wouldn’t get toasted anymore, right? Probably.

Still, he turned toward the nearest wall, pressing his forehead against it to try to smother his laughter. It didn’t help. The moment he dared to look back at Kael and Orien, the snort returned, and he was gone again.

"Uncle! I think you should find a way to toast him! Look at him!" Orien snarled—except to any poor soul hearing this for the first time, the threat would have sounded downright adorable.

Because here’s the thing: Orien was growling and huffing like an apex predator, claws scratching furrows into the marble floor and tail lashing behind him in pure rage... but Riley had to look down to even see him.

And there, in all his furious glory, was an angry little baby dragon.

Not metaphorical. Not poetic. A literal baby dragon.

Riley doubled over, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. The whole scene was so absurd that it felt like his brain had stepped out for a break.

When Kael had first mentioned a method for Orien to travel without using magic or glamours, Riley had imagined some kind of projection spell they could use from the den. Maybe a clever illusion from some artifact or something. Something restrictive, sure, but better than being stuck indoors.

He had not expected... this.

No wonder Orien had been so against it.

It took Riley a long moment to finally get his breathing under control. Only then did he manage to croak out, "Is this the real reason dragonlings aren’t allowed to leave the nest?"

Before Kael could answer, Riley took a proper look and almost started laughing again.

Orien’s current form was the size of a basketball when curled up, his tiny wings twitching in outrage. His scales shimmered golden with faint red undertones, so fine and soft they almost didn’t look real. He didn’t even have that hardened dragon armor yet—just the kind of plush, downy appearance that made Riley’s hands itch to scoop him up and hug him like an expensive stuffed animal.

Then the little dragon puffed out his chest, narrowed his bright eyes, and barked, "Insolence!"

Riley bit his fist, nearly rolling on the ground.

And yet... he had seen Orien’s much larger, imposing form before. So how on Eryndra was this the same dragon?

"My Lord," Riley finally asked Kael, "that other form—how come that was so much bigger than this?"

Kael glanced at Orien first, who whipped his head around in horror. "Uncle! Are you really going to tell him?!"

"He’s bound by the sigil," Kael said evenly. "And if we want the investigation to be easier, there’s no point keeping it from him when you already look like that."

The man speaking now looked nothing like the resplendent golden dragon Riley knew. Short black hair, dark brown eyes, and a bodyguard’s uniform made him appear almost human—almost. But that poise, that controlled power in every movement... there was no mistaking him for anything but the Dragon Lord in disguise.

Riley had no idea how this was going to work once they stepped out of the ministry, but for now, Kael continued explaining. "That larger form will be his once he grows out of this stage. But to reach it, dragonlings must train to hold that form for as long as possible until it becomes their base."

"Hmph!" Orien huffed, plopping down on the floor like a sulking toddler who’d been denied dessert.

"Make no mistake! I can still take you on like this and win, you puny little human!" Orien roared. Well... as much as a baby dragon could roar. The threat might have carried more weight if his voice didn’t crack halfway through.

Riley tilted his head, biting back a grin. "I apologize, Lord Orien!"

That earned him a screech and a puff of smoke from Orien’s nostrils. "Grrrr! And who are you to talk when you look like a woman?"

"A pretty good-looking one, if I may say so myself!" Riley replied, now openly smirking. "They’re looking for a man, so what better way to do this than look like this?"

Truthfully, it wasn’t about the disguise at all. When standing next to Kael, anyone in their regular form drew attention. This was simply the least suspicious option... plus, most of Riley’s accumulated disguise clothes were this size. The giant dragon lord would barely get one arm into them. So there was no way he could be turned into a woman like this. Especially not when he towered like that.

"But, My Lord," Riley said, glancing at Kael, "wouldn’t he still show up under detection magic?"

"No. Because that’s his original form," Kael answered with absolute calm.

Riley blinked, still wrapping his head around that before asking, "Then if it’s like this, are we ready to go?"

Kael gave a short nod. Orien began to waddle forward on his stubby legs, his little chest puffed out with pride... only for Riley to crush the moment entirely.

"Umm... Lord Orien, I hope you don’t mind, but... you might have to go in here."

Riley, now a tall woman with the unmistakable voice of a man, unzipped a large black duffel bag.

The look on Orien’s face was priceless. His golden scales stiffened, eyes widening in pure horror. "WHAT?! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!"

"Shut it. You’re the one who wanted to come," Kael said in a voice that cut straight through Orien’s outrage. The little dragon froze mid-tantrum.

"How else did you expect to come out?" Kael continued. "Or do you plan on pretending to be a toy the entire way?"

"What?! No! Uncle!!!" Orien squawked, but his protests went unheeded.

And so it was that an unusually tall woman and a guard who looked a little too polished for his own good walked briskly through the ministry’s parking lot with a black duffel bag that... wiggled.

The plan was set. The disguise was perfect. The mission was unstoppable.

Until they met their first, utterly ridiculous obstacle.

The alleged guard couldn’t drive.

Oh, hell.