Andreja’s mouth dried with fear as she went after her sister, though she was excited to see her dad she was worried too. Would he accept her, her not being a Dracarae? Meyles was, but she wasn’t, so she wasn’t sure if she could join. Though she wasn’t a fan of fighting, she’d do it for her father and sister, for the life Meyles deserved to have, far away from the blight of the memories they both had of Guinevere.
That was, if Balerion would accept her loyalty.
She was shocked like Meyles, at the fact that an aunt had surfaced, another woman she and Meyles could call family. Lord knew her mother hadn’t been a family member, to either of them. She piped up after Meyles, “I’m Andreja; I guess I’m your niece. It’s good to meet you,” she added shyly. Then she turned to her father, her fear welling. “Father . . . I know I’m not a Dracarae, I’m a poor attempt at a dragon. But . . . I am completely willing to fight for you. I want to die knowing I’ve been much more than a failure to my sister and a disappointment to the woman I called mother-I want to help you.” She choked on a swallow. Her father didn’t even acknowledge her, and she leaned heavily into Meyles, closing her eyes as he spoke, trying to block out his speech. She willed herself not to cry.

“Moi j'veux crever la main sur le coeur!”