The morning after I cried my dragon’s lament, I wake to Cyrene rubbing her little hand on my face.
“Calgon, wake up. Wake up, Calgon,” she says, in her sweet toddler voice.
I don’t open my eyes, but I growl softly, immediately eliciting her very high-pitched squeal of excitement.
“Who dares to wake the dragon from his sleep?” I say, keeping my eyes closed and my voice deep.
“Me! Me!” she says excitedly.
“And who are you, little one?” I growl lowly at her.
“Pwincess Cywene!”
“Princess, you say?”
“Mmmhmm!” she’s so excited by our game that she’s squirming around on what’s left of the bed. I make sure to keep my arm around her so she doesn’t fall off.
“And does the Princess think she’s strong enough to claim a dragon?” I growl.
“I have dis,” she says, showing me her hand with my mar
