The Dragon's Kiss

"Control the ocean?"

Dash shook his head.Â

"Can you change the wind? Can you smother a forest fire?" He scoffed. "You should worry about the things you can control."

Kel snorted and crossed her arms. "Right! What can a powerless princess like me do anyway? I guess I'll just sit back and watch everything unfold."

"You know that's not wha-"

"Oh wait! I'm not even a princess! Should I just curl up and die now? That's something I can do!"

They both fell silent, shooting each other rigid looks. They'd argued until this point many times before, but this time the stakes were higher and the glares fiercer.

Like he always did, Dash looked away first. Unlike Kel, he grew quieter as his anger escalated. He preferred to steam to himself rather than explosively express his feelings, and he often ended things before Kel had a chance to get really heated.

Kel knew the end to this scenario. She would continue screaming until her voice gave out while Dash refused to speak. She hadn't forgotten the true objective of her coming here, though, and she couldn't waste time arguing like children.

"I can't change the wind, Dash, but I can control fire," Kel said softly as she released a slow breath. "So who's to say I can't manage the ocean too?"

The words were directed to Dash, but they came from the ghost of her younger self, taunting Barclay's foolish ideology.Â

It was as if the adolescent Kel was proclaiming, 'I learned to control the batons! There is no ocean that can't be tamed!'

Perhaps that was the real reason she was chasing so blindly after revenge. Maybe it wasn't about who was right and who was wrong, but proving to the Barclay in her memories that she could learn to control her surroundings--no matter what they were.Â

"Can you really control fire, though?" Dash shot back with a sigh of his own. "You can start a fire with a single touch, but can you change its direction? Can you put it out with another touch?"

"That's not the point," Kel hissed through gritted teeth. She spoke each word carefully, trying to steady her agitated tone. "At least in this case, I only need to start the blaze."

Dash shook his head again, still refusing to meet her eyes.

"Well even if you set the entire continent ablaze, you can't burn the ocean--not a single drop of it," he chided, likewise straining to control his emotions. "The downfall of an entire empire can't bring back even one lost life."

"I'm not trying to bring anything back!" Kel's voice rose sharply. "And I never said I wanted to burn the ocean! That was just a stupid metaphor."

Suddenly Dash turned to look at her, his eyes glinting.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want-"

"Because I don't think you even know."

How strange. Dash was fighting back.Â

She'd seen it a few times since coming to the empire, but the way his eyes flashed threateningly was something Kel thought she'd never become accustomed to.

"Fine, you're right. Who knows what I truly want," she surrendered, raising her hands. "But I know what I don't want, and I won't sit back and do nothing."

Dash's fiery eyes slowly darkened as Kel declared her intentions.Â

"We're going in circles," he murmured, dropping his head into his hands.

Kel wanted to do the same. She felt sticky and twisted inside, like honey poured on piles of freshly spun wool. Her head ached with the imperious impression that she was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing.

"I know you're upset about Barclay," Dash said quietly, rising up to meet Kel's eyes, "but there's no reason to go this far."

"I-I just want those who made us suffer to have a little taste of their own medicine'¦" Kel trailed off, flinching as she became fully aware of her discomfort.

Dash leapt to his feet, slamming both hands down on the table.

"Barclay's death was tragic, but he's gone, ok? The only thing you need to do now is keep living the best you can."

"...You sound like you don't even care," Kel replied, swallowing hard.

"Of course I care," Dash responded immediately, "but I'm a soldier. I'm trained to keep my composure no matter what."

Kel knew he was only being reasonable. Both of them had already been forced to cut their grieving process short when the news of Uncle Itzae's disappearance found them in the middle of a guard shift. They weren't the only soldiers hindered from their feelings, either. Nearly every person donning Mevanian armor carried the weight of a loved one's death.Â

But death isn't an excuse for the living to stop living.

"You are a trained soldier too, Kel," Dash continued. "I'm sad he's gone. I really am, but the mission isn't over yet."

The progress Dash's compelling words had achieved in changing Kel's mind dissipated in an instant with his mention of 'the mission'.

The knots in Kel's stomach she'd thought were slowly becoming untangled suddenly grew in size. They pushed against her insides until she wanted to puke.

That's right. Their mission was to pose Kel as the princess just as long as was necessary for Adriell to make it safely to Pandreia. After that, Kel's mission would be whichever disgusting fate awaited her.

How had Dash nearly pulled her into the trap of trusting him again?

Kel cleared her throat, forcing her emotions off her face. The realization once again of her place as a sacrifice was cold water to her flaring temper.

"If you don't agree with me, then why don't you go tattle to the emperor?" She suggested, shoving the half-folded parchment across the table. "This is more than enough evidence for me to lose my neck."

"I won't," Dash responded with equal coldness. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"It's too late for that," Kel snorted. "You said I should do my best? This is the best I can do. This is the only way I can keep living."