Soon, both of them found themselves in the sitting room.
The space was dimly lit, the only light coming from the crackling fire and a single lamp perched on a side table. The scent of aged paper and old wood lingered in the air. Heavy curtains were drawn shut, muffling the outside world.
They sat on opposite ends of a worn leather couch near the fireplace, the silence between them thick and unmoving.
Peter unfolded Esme's letter and began to read, eyes flicking quickly over the lines. His expression stayed stone still, but his grip on the paper tightened.
"It's hot here, isn't it?"
He said as his eyes lingered on her hair, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Without waiting for a response, he slipped off his coat and tossed it over the armrest.
"Shouldn't you do the same?" he added.
A hesitant look appeared on Velessa's face. She sighed softly, then reached up and unfastened her cloak.
As the fabric slid off her shoulders, two small, curved horns were revealed, peeking through her raven-black hair.
Peter's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing. He simply leaned back, folding his arms as he studied her in silence.
"So it's true."
He muttered, almost to himself. Then, without warning, he stood and strode over to the bookshelves that were placed near the far wall.
His hand moved along the shelves until it stopped on a thick, worn tome. Without so much as a glance back, he pulled it free and tossed it over his shoulder.
It flew across the room and smacked Velessa square in the face.
"Oof!" she yelped, nearly falling off the couch.
Peter didn't even turn around. "You'll want to start with chapter three," he said dryly. "It's about concealing magical features. Might save you some awkward stares."
Velessa rubbed her nose, hissing at him.
HA, I told you dragons and cats share traits.
"A warning would've been nice."
Peter chuckled and turned to face her.
"Aren't you a dragon? That was nothing more than a light object. I figured you could handle it."
Velessa crossed her arms, tail twitching behind her.
"Still rude."
Peter raised an eyebrow at her tail.
"If you're looking for gentle, you came to the wrong house."
He paused, then gestured to the book in her lap.
"Start reading tomorrow. If you're going to stay here, you need to learn how to walk among people without starting a riot."
She tilted her head in genuine confusion.
"Why? Aren't there more dragons?"
Peter's expression froze. He blinked slowly, then reached for Esme's letter again. His fingers gripped the parchment tighter than before. He hadn't finished reading it.
A long, heavy silence settled between them.
"No...," he said quietly. "There aren't."
He folded the letter with care and looked back at her.
"You really are the last."
Velessa blinked slowly.
"The last...?"
Her small hands gripped the edges of the book in her lap. Her eyes dropped to the floor, wide open. For a moment, her tail went still.
"But... what about the others?"
Her voice trembled.
"There has to be more. Somewhere. Maybe they're hiding like I was..."
Placing his hand on his head, Peter sighed.
"I'm sorry," he said with a sad smile.
That was when her lip quivered. And then, without warning, she pressed her face into the book and began to cry. Quietly at first, getting louder with each moment.
Peter stood still. And for a moment, he just watched her. Then, with a sigh so low it almost didn't exist, he stood up and picked up a map from the wall. He crouched beside her and spread the map across the low table.
"Or maybe not."
His attempt at a smile failed, but his tone was gentle.
"The world is a big place. See?"
He moved his hand across the map, tracing continents and mountain ranges, letting his finger sweep over oceans and unfamiliar names.
"There are corners of this world no one's set foot in for decades. Maybe centuries. If there's even a flicker of your kind left… it would be in a place like that."
Velessa sniffled, lifting her eyes from the book to the map. Her finger reached out and touched the map, resting on a patch of unmarked wilderness.
"Could they be there?"
She asked, a whisper full of fragile hope.
"If I knew, I would have told you."
Peter shrugged lightly.
"But just because I don't know doesn't mean they aren't there."
Velessa nodded slowly, still sniffling.
Peter gave the map a soft pat. And then placed it back on the wall.
"Before you find other dragons, you need to learn magic. Real magic. The kind that protects you when no one else can."
He sat in his seat, resting one ankle over the other.
"And don't forget common sense while you're at it. Magic won't save you if you walk straight into trouble with your eyes closed."
Velessa wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and gave a small nod.
"Has Esme taught you anything about history and geography?"
Velessa lowered her head.
"Not much..."
A tired sigh was heard across the room.
"I will call an acquaintance to tutor you."
He stood up and took both her cloak and his coat.
"Come on. I'll show you to your room."
Peter showed her the manor. The halls were quiet, holding many windows and lined with old portraits, some of which were torn. He didn't speak much as they walked, only offering a few names of rooms as they passed - the library, the study, the dining hall.
Until eventually they reached a modest room on the second floor. The walls had a red flowery wallpaper, the bed was neatly made, and a small desk was set beneath the window.
"I'm sorry if anything in the room isn't to your liking."
Peter said, placing her things on the chair.
"The maid left yesterday for an errand, so I won't be able to change it right now."
"It's okay,..."
Velessa replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She quickly fell on the bed, deeply sinking into the blankets. And immediately started snoring. Peter's right eye twitched.
"I guess my acquaintance will need to teach her manners too."
He turned to leave but paused. After a brief moment, he returned, holding something in his hand-a small teddy bear. Without a word, he placed it gently beside her on the bed.
Then he quietly closed the door behind him.
He walked down the dim hall, entered his study, and sank into the old leather chair behind his desk. The moment he sat, he let out a long sigh and leaned forward.
With a dull thud, he let his forehead rest against the wooden surface.
"What in the world have you dropped on me, Esme...?" he muttered into the desk.
He took out the letter to read it again. His eyes were muddied with sadness. They followed the handwriting. He brushed with his thumb the signature at the bottom, lingering there.
"You always had a way of making things my problem."
He whispered with a weak smile. He then turned abruptly towards the window next to him. No stars could be seen in the night sky.
Velkaar stopped Their advance for some time. But it was not enough.
They needed more time to prepare.