We travel down the winding hallway, past more open and closed corridors. No matter how much I try not to, I can't help but glance at The Queen. She has the regal stride down to a science. And yet, she doesn't look down on her subjects. Not like she does. She greets them by name and spreads the word of the feast herself.

  Alcina leans down and smirks at me. She whispers, "Impressed?"

  "What?"

  "The Queen knows almost everyone in the castle by name." She rises to her full height again. "Also, you were gawking."

  "I can hear you two!" The Queen looks back at us, stern but amused. "It is most improper to whisper behind your queen’s back."

  My face flushes red. Was I looking too much at her body? I didn’t even realize, but I suppose my eyes were lingering. So stupid. I can’t disrespect her like that.

  Alcina’s expression turns serious. “I’m terribly sorry, your majesty. It won’t happen again.”

  “Ah, it’s okay, Alcina. I was kidding.”

  Alcina stares at The Queen for a beat. “Oh.”

  The Queen shrugs, like this happens often. "Here we are!" She stops in front of another tall door. We're in a quieter part of the castle, where the halls are almost too narrow for multiple full-size dragons to pass through. The sky still shows through the leaves in the ceiling, casting light to complement the warm glow of the bulbs.

  The Queen waves a claw. "Alcina, guard the door."

  The archmage bows. "Yes, your majesty."

  I fight an uptick of alarm. Even though I don't know Alcina any better than The Queen, the thought of being alone with her makes me nervous. Regardless, when she opens the door, I tentatively follow.

  The room is huge. Too huge. The ceiling stretches upward, high enough and wide enough for a dragon to fly up and down. Empty wooden platforms hang on the walls, reminiscent of shelf fungus. Sunlight dapples the soft, moss-like floor. I'm not sure what the carpet is made of, or whether or not it's living.

  A single king sized bed sits in the back of the room. It’s awkwardly small compared to everything else. The human-sized desk, dresser, and couches have the same problem, dotting the far corners of the room.

  The door shuts behind us. "What do you think?" The Queen asks, her tail twitching excitedly.

  "It's…very big."

  "Well, yes, all our rooms are like that. We imported human furniture to make you feel more at home." She gestures to the bed and couches. "And, you won't believe this, you have your very own bathroom and walk-in closet!"

  I don't have the heart to tell her that I can absolutely believe that. As I look around, a realization strikes me. "This isn't your room."

  She tilts her head. "Well, of course it's not. We figured my suitors would be more comfortable here until the marriage is finalized. Did you want to sleep in my room?" She gives me a sideways look.

  "No," I say automatically. Was that response too quick? I add, "unless you wanted to, of course. I'm open to anything, really." Heat rises in my face despite how drafty the room is.

  "I don't have a human sized bed. I'm afraid I might accidentally crush you."

  "If that's what you're into," I blurt out, then instantly regret it. Skies above, I'm supposed to make her like me, but that was NOT the right thing to say. The other humans probably weren’t that stupid on their first day.

  Her ear twitches. Then, she bursts out laughing. I force a stilted chuckle.

  "Ah, I can already tell we're going to get along." She sets a claw gently on my shoulder. Her brow furrows a little, and her hand stays there for a beat too long. I finally step away on impulse.

  "I will let you unpack in peace," The Queen says. She gives me a bow. "And I will send someone to retrieve you before the feast. Please, make yourself comfortable." She smiles again and steps out the door, closing it behind her.

  As I stand there, alone in the huge room, the reality of what I'm doing hits me all at once.

  The room is too big. Unfamiliar. I’m so exposed. Heat builds in my chest, and anxiety knots in my stomach, threatening to spill out of me. Why am I here? What have I done?

  I turn my eyes to the bathroom door, which is slightly ajar, then sprint toward it.

  It slams behind me. The stone pattern on the floor isn't as complex as my tiles were back home, and it doesn't distract me like those ones did. The stone bowl sink, the bathtub that’s too large—it's wrong, all wrong.

  I don't belong here.

  Bile rises in my throat. I crumple to the floor, taking deep breath after deep breath. My thumb traces the diamond ring in my pocket, and I dig it out. It glints in my sweaty palm. If it weren't for this, I wouldn't have made such a stupid choice. I wouldn't be here, a human in a land of monsters, trying to marry a dragon queen. Trying to fit into this unfamiliar place, a weed in a flower garden.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I clutch the ring. It has to be worth it. It has to be, I didn't have another choice. I can’t go back home, no matter what happens. No matter how The Queen treats me, no matter how compatible we are, no matter if I love her or not. I take deep breaths.

  I can't blow this. I need to marry The Queen. If she sends me home, it's all over.

  Think about leaves falling. The smell of flowers. I'm in a garden, my hands deep in the dirt, planting something. It's not hard to imagine when there's already so many plants around me. Leaves falling in a gentle breeze. I'm planting flowers. I'm okay.

  It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay. The mantra repeats in my mind. She can’t reach me here.

  Slowly, I open my eyes. My breathing has steadied, but sweat still pools around my suit, growing colder by the moment.

  I step into the room and grab my suitcase for a new outfit. A simpler one, just a collared shirt and dress pants. I return to the bathroom and run some hot water for a bath.

  When I finish and look in the mirror, I take in my complexion. Between my drying black hair and atrocious 5 o' clock shadow, I look ghoulish. My eyes are drawn to the ugly bruise on my shoulder. I grab my razor and finally shave, but it takes me forever. It hurts to lift my arm too high.

  Someone knocks on my door. "Prince? The feast will be ready soon." It sounds like Jayle.

  I finish putting on my clothes and come out. "Well, someone cleaned up nice," he jokes. "I'll admit, I was a little worried my queen may be courting a stray."

  I give him a dry smile as he laughs.

  We walk out of the bedroom, and once more, I follow him down the hall and through the twisting corridors of the castle. It doesn’t take much time for us to reach a busier section. Dragons are running left and right, human and monster forms alike, swiftly bowing to us if we’re even noticed in the chaos.

  The hall opens into a huge room. On the ground level, there are tables everywhere, wooden and set with empty plates. They’re surprisingly human sized. Dragons must prefer to eat in their bipedal forms. The largest table is in the very back on an elevated platform, and a few important looking dragons are already seated. My eyes are drawn upwards, and I can see balconies wrapped in layers all the way up to the canopy. There’s more than enough space for dragons to fly and climb up and down.

  Jayle stops and points to the back table. “That’s where we’ll be sitting. With the royalty and Lantana’s inner court.”

  I could guess as much. I adjust my collar and nervously follow Jayle on the long trek. I glance up at the platforms again, spotting more rooms and entrances connected to this space. Based on its positioning and the amount of time it took us to walk here, it’s probably the central hub of the castle. It’s big enough for a good amount of dragons in their full forms to mingle and chat, so the people and furniture still seem strangely small at this size.

  I cross my arms.

  Alcina is among those at the table, seated near the right, her ears flicking restlessly back and forth. On the left, half a dozen grayish dragons are seated. They’re speaking in low tones to one another, whispering draconic. Between them and the right side of the table, there’s two more old dragons, a dragon with his nose buried in a scroll, and another elderly dragon dressed in robes similar to Alcina’s. Like everyone else at the small tables, they’re all in human-like form.

  Something catches my eye on some of the dragons’ necks. A tattoo of sorts, mostly on the older dragons, black and patterned like a tight necklace. The tidbit of dragon culture dances at the edge of my mind from a draconic book I helped localize years ago. I think it has to do with their marriage customs.

  Jayle leads me to the left end of the table, just by the head. He sits next to Alcina and across from me. I don’t like how my back is to most of the room now, so I study the huge tapestry on the wall to distract myself. It’s some kind of oceanic scene, expertly stitched to show a view gazing up for miles from beneath a sea of deep blues and purples. Embroidered in the corner, I can barely read the name, “Aegean.”

  I take a deep breath, still trying to come down from my anxiety earlier. Whispered draconic carries across the table, despite the commotion of the room.

  “That’s him? The newest human?”

  “—how long do you think he’ll—”

  “—looks a little like—”

  “—back so soon! What could have—?”

  I shift around in my seat as a hush falls over the crowd. The Queen arrives in dragon form, strutting elegantly with her snout held high. She draws near to the platform, then stops and turns to face the room. Her silver tail coils neatly around her.

  "Dragons of Lereon-Siv," her voice booms. Lereon-Siv is the name of the land we’re in. It loosely translates to “dragon heart,” as in the ancestral homeland of all dragons. "We celebrate today on behalf of Ash the human!"

  The room cheers, but my stomach drops. Ash.

  “The bravest and most open-minded human yet,” she continues, “I’m told he volunteered to be married to me almost immediately. With a spirit like that, I’m sure he will make an excellent king, as the forest wills.”

  Another wave of cheers rounds the room, and I shrink in my seat. Servants come in with plates full of food, placing them on the tables. An entire line just for the royals and inner court makes its way toward us. But I don’t feel hungry anymore.

  "Now, feast, dragons! Today is a good day. Thank you." Her form shrinks, and she trots up the steps. She takes the ornate seat at the head of the table, right next to me.

  A servant places a tray in front of me. She removes the lid, revealing a very well-done steak. The Queen's tray, and most of the trays around me, contain what looks like raw meat.

  "What do you think?" The Queen asks. "Do you find this acceptable? We always try to take extra care to accommodate for a human diet."

  Truthfully, I like my steak very rare. But the comment sticks in my throat. "Thank you,” I say instead.

  I glance at her as we begin to eat. The chatter in the room has started up again. I shouldn’t say anything. I shouldn’t make a fuss. But that word, that name—it’s repeating in my head, over and over and over again. Ash. Ash. In her voice.

  "Um, there is one very small thing, my queen."

  "Hm?"

  I almost don’t finish. I almost say, “never mind.” But I’ve gone too far to back out now. I grit my teeth. "My name is Ashura, not Ash."

  The Queen covers her mouth. "Oh, burrs and weeds! Is that what I said? I apologize." She bows her head, lowering her long, blue horns. "I will make this up to you."

  "It's not that big of a deal," I say. "I mean, if you want to…" what am I saying? This was a mistake, a disaster. Why did I have to correct her at all?

  "No!" She says. "I would like to call you by your proper name. That is, unless you have a nickname?"

  "I don't."

  "Then Ashura it is."

  What a mess. I shove some steak in my mouth, trying to lose myself in its flavor. It’s tough and overcooked.