Swan and Dragon. Dragon Empire. Natalie Yacobson

clock beating a drum roll and echoing it in the empty, magical fireplace. The fire in it could flare up by itself and go out only after the order of the hostess.

      “I’m afraid that a happy future doesn’t shine for you yet,” the queen said, and after a short pause, announced: “The war has begun!”

      These words sounded gloomy and solemn. Rosa lowered her head at once. She knew that the kingdom was on the verge of ruin and the fighting would not lead to good. Last year, hail hit all crops. Several vassals rebelled against the king, for which they were severely punished. And when public executions of noble gentlemen begin in the country, the people consider it their duty to raise a rebellion. Of course, the neighbors are doing even worse, but this is not a reason to start a war. After all, you can lose.

      “The northern neighbors have declared war on us,” Odile continued.

      Rose laughed mirthlessly.

      “Why, their kingdom is half the size of ours. It turns out that everything is not so bad.”

      “You’re wrong! Their son led the order of knights – elves under circumstances which I will not expand on. If you were even a little more agreeable, the dispute could have been settled by marriage. But the prince does not need a bride who runs through the mountains with a gun and talks to the peasants. And now…”

      She fell silent, unable to put her thoughts into words.

      “What?” Rose asked impatiently.

      “Everyone knows that you hang out with trolls!”

      The news hit Rose like thunder.

      “It’s not true,” she lied.

      “What the hell are you wearing on your head?” Odile wanted to rip the wreath from her daughter’s head, but Rose drew back from her hand.

      “I’m going to fight,” she said. “Only old-fashioned archers serve in the troops, and I know how to handle muskets and rifles. I will come in handy.”

      Odile shook her head ruefully. Such a proposal was already beyond all limits of decency.

      “No, my dear,” she said resolutely, “you are leaving today. Go to your orphaned cousin.”

      “On her piece of land, which arrogant fools call vast possessions?” not without sarcasm asked Rose.

      “But the battlefields are far from her chateau. It’s dangerous to stay at home. I decided to send you away in case of an enemy invasion.”

      The queen rang the bell. The chamberlain appeared on the threshold and stared at the princess in amazement. Then he came to his senses, opened some kind of scroll and began to read out the names of the astrologers invited to the court. Their services were always resorted to before the outbreak of war.

      Odile ordered the carriage to be pledged and ordered the most efficient servants to prepare the load. It seemed to Rose that she was being kicked out of her own house. There must be a more compelling reason behind such precautions than war. Terrible news is passed by word of mouth, but those who are particularly affected are often left in the dark.

      It was getting dark. Rose went out into the castle courtyard, hoping to see the noisy crowd of servants again. It’s time to listen to their gossip. Commoners always speak bluntly. From them you can easily learn what you cannot get from the nobles under torture. Now Rose was interested in any rumors. If only none of the nobility came down here after her. In the presence of gentlemen, the servants are afraid to open their mouths to forbidden topics.

      However, there was no one in the courtyard. The gray light still fell on the paving stones and jagged walls. How old is the royal castle? This question haunted Rose. Is there a more ancient and impregnable fortress in the world than this one?.. They say that there is, but everyone who sees it is doomed by the powerful owner of this citadel to a long and painful death.

      A dull hiss broke away from Rose’s thoughts. An unbearable stench hit her nostrils. The princess could not understand what was the matter and where the servants had gone. By evening, everyone crowded around the well. And now there is no one around, only a cracked bucket is lying in the middle of the yard, as if it was left here on purpose.

      Rose moved forward swiftly. Heat burst into her face, although there was no fire nearby. Then the heat gave way to cold. Rose wanted to get closer to the well, maybe the reason for all these oddities is hidden in it. The girl took two steps and froze in place. What she saw was incredible.

      A thin, golden serpent with wings coiled around the well log. His slippery wet body coiled into rings so that the entire well was braided with sparkling ornaments. Two amethyst eyes stared at Rose. Fragile, golden wings fluttered behind the back. A shining halo surrounded the snake. Rose wondered if his skin was actually molded from gold. If so, it is worth a fortune, not counting the fact that behind the soul of the reptile itself, there are undoubtedly also witchcraft.

      Now there was a breath of spring freshness from the well. Rose stared in fascination at the golden guest. The snake was graceful and beautiful, despite its unusual body length, it did not seem bulky or awkward. On the contrary, all movements were simple and sophisticated, like a gallant gentleman.

      Smooth, as if doused with precious metal, the head jerked up. The narrow stripes of the jaws parted, revealing a red, forked sting. Cloudy saliva flowed from him, from which poisonous fumes emanated.

      Rose, as if paralyzed, stood and waited, not knowing why. Glowing, purple eyes mesmerized from a distance. Smoke escaped from its oblong mouth. The girl involuntarily covered her nose with her hand. The stench that spread through the air was unbearable. Another minute, and the creature on the well would have breathed fire, but then a weak, human voice called out to her highness in the distance.

      This voice sounded like deep, stringy sounds. Such is the song to the accompaniment of a viola in the mouth of a tired minstrel.

      Sensing someone’s approach, the snake began to tumble, its slippery, sparkling body streamed like a ribbon along the frame of the well and disappeared into a round, stone hole.

      Rose could not understand anything. In annoyance, she kicked the bucket lying nearby. It rolled away with a crash, leaving behind a puddle of dirty, green liquid, just like the one that poured from the snake’s sting. It’s good that the snake didn’t spit this poison in her face. In general, it is good that he retreated without burning half of the castle. But just what could this creature be afraid of?

      The princess turned around. Not far from her stood the same sad minstrel whom she had noticed in the crowd during the day. He was thin and poor, like all free musicians. A pleasant, swarthy face was slightly weathered during endless wanderings. Short, brown hair was sunburned. The pale blue eyes contrasted sharply with the bright, oriental tan. The young man was about the same age as Rose, but a life full of worries gave his calm gaze senile or even magical wisdom.

      A staid and silent boy, obedient to the fate of fate, seemed completely devoid of any human fussiness.

      “Did you call me?” Rose asked.

      “The carriage is ready, Your Highness,” he reported barely audibly.

      Rose wanted to talk to him heart to heart, to ask about the reasons for his sadness and withdrawal. But she said nothing. Why etch other people’s wounds? She must go, otherwise the queen will get even more angry.

      “Thank you,” Rose nodded. She looked with apprehension at the well and at that very moment the wreath, as if with an iron hoop, pulled her head down. Pain shot through her brain. You shouldn’t have taken the troll’s gift. There are only troubles from someone else’s generosity.

      Rose plucked the wreath from her head. Almost all the flowers in it withered and withered. Quite recently, the petals were fresh and transparent, and now even the green leaves have curled up into dry lumps, as if someone had drunk moisture and strength from them.

      “I’ll