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Princess and The Dragons	By : RWBYRemnants Category: +M through R > RWBY Views: 1054 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: RWBY is not mine and I make no money from this fic

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
NOTE: The word “Negro” is only used for historical accuracy in this chapter, as it was the most polite/inoffensive term in the 1950s. As a POC myself I think history should not be erased. I'm a strong supporter of BLM, and if you wanna debate that you can just take it right off this fic; I'm gonna delete super politically-charged comments (especially if you're a racist lol, you might get reported)

=Chapter 17
Pyrrha showed up just in time for the cake, as it turned out, since it had to chill before it was ready to be served. In the interim, they had all chatted and played a game of poker, which only proved that Kali had even more talents than previously were visible. Luckily, they were only playing for starlight mints instead of real money.
As anyone could have predicted, Kali took an immediate liking to Weiss's childhood friend. She did tease her once - asked if she wanted a little “extra sugar” with her slice of cassata, leaning in a little too close - but when Pyrrha flushed and pulled away, she left her unmolested for the rest of the night. Pyrrha clearly appreciated that consideration.
The two drove back home with full bellies and high spirits, Weiss even moreso due to dinner before the dessert; Pyrrha was just filled with cake and milk. They took the long way home, both to throw anyone who might be trying to follow them off the scent, and to enjoy the evening for a few seconds more.
“I never thought I would say this, but… I really do like your new friends.”
“Yeah?” Weiss couldn't help the huge grin that broke out across her face. “They like you, too. Though I am sorry they can't seem to stop flirting.”
“I already told you, I don't mind. Even Cinder, as long as she doesn’t go too far. They are simply expressing desires that come very natural to them. Maybe they don't to me, but I'm starting to realize that they aren't as ‘unnatural’ as the church would have us believe.”
The church had scarcely occurred to her. The Schnee family weren't much for religion at all, since her father considered himself “an educated man”, as he was quick to inform anyone who broached the subject. “Yeah. Maybe not.”
“And…” After taking a deep breath, she continued, “I think I can handle the flirting, as long as you don't join in.”
“What?! But I would never-”
“I know, but you probably thought you would never date a woman at all,” she went on stubbornly, despite how uncomfortable she looked to be discussing this. “I'm not trying to say that you were thinking about doing it; just… expressing my gratitude that I know you understand. That if they ever start going too far, you'll always be there to step in and stop them.”
Weiss nodded as she absorbed that. Maybe it wasn't quite fair for Pyrrha to assume that she would ever change her behavior that drastically, but she could also understand the mindset looking from the outside-in. All the more reason for her to keep an eye on the other Dragons; as often as Yang reassured her that they wouldn't really have forced her into anything she didn't want, they were still extremely pushy.
Before she could respond, she noticed her friend leaning in to squint over the steering wheel. “What… what is that? Up there.”
Two men seemed to be standing in the middle of the street. At first, Weiss was only concerned that they were trying to get themselves run over - or just being a general nuisance. Then she recognized one of them by his bristly white mustache and groaned.
“Great. What is this fresh pleasure?”
“We're about to find out,” Pyrrha sighed as she pulled over to the curb. Weiss had already shucked her leather jacket and was in the process of stuffing it under her seat. “Do you remember our alibi for today?”
“The diner? Or… wait, we were going for a Sunday drive.”
“But it's Friday.”
“You know what I mean!” Without waiting for her to answer, she exited the car.
The two fathers were waiting for them. This close, Weiss could indeed tell that the other man was Mr. Nikos; she hadn't been able to tell from further away. His red hair was thinning on top, but otherwise he was quite the good-looking fellow; a burly ex-Olympian who was definitely the driving force behind Pyrrha’s career in track and field.
“Hello, Father,” Weiss said shortly.
“Where exactly have you two been keeping yourselves?” he asked without preamble.
“Out driving. We had a nice meal and decided to enjoy the fresh air before it gets too cold to-”
His overly loud sigh interrupted Weiss's words. “Spare me the double talk. I've already confirmed that neither of you have been to the diner all day today. Now, would you like to amend your story?”
“It's true,” Pyrrha added, her voice a lot stronger than expected. Weiss was furious that he was checking up on her, but she would handle that later. “We found a quaint little place by accident, had our supper there. Since it isn't a school night, we thought it would be fun to splurge and try something new.”
“Mmhmmm. And what sort of new things did you try?”
Something about the way her father had phrased that made Weiss uncomfortable. She couldn't put her finger on why right away, but it made her hesitant to answer.
“Shall we share our hypothesis with the class? Very well then.” Barely glancing at Mr. Nikos, he began to pace back and forth, still in the middle of the street. “Already, we've caught you hanging around that uncouth girl. The one you've been warned against spending time with. Or don't you recall that?”
Throat dry, Weiss managed to rasp, “Of course.” This was it. They were about to be defeated, and everything was going to get so much worse.
“I've heard from Whitley that you spend a lot of time with a strange group of girls. Granted, you haven't spent any time with them since our little talk, but it is something you've been guilty of in the past. And now, you are spending a little too much time with Miss Nikos.”
“Well, it's not that I mind so much as all that,” the other parent said in a more mild tone than Weiss's father.
“Shush.” Weiss wanted to run up to him and kick him in the shin for talking to her friend's father that way, but she resisted for the time being. “You can see how this looks to us. It would look that way to anyone. So I hope you aren't terribly offended when I suggest that you spend a little less time together from now on.”
Of course, she knew exactly what he meant. Still, she had a good defense prepared for just such an accusation. It had originally been about Yang, but the sentiment worked just as well for Pyrrha.
First, she would start with feigning ignorance. “No, Father, I can't see how it looks to you. What's wrong with having a good chum and spending my free time with her?”
“As I said,” he went on patiently - though a muscle tick had appeared in his jaw. “It's not your chosen company, who is at least an improvement over that other hooligan. It's the amount of time. This is far more than any two gal pals would entertain each other's company.”
“Is it? I mean, how do you know? Have you spent a lot of time as a gal with pals?”
His face darkened. “Weiss Schnee, you will not sass me in this manner.”
“I'm not sassing you! I'm merely trying to point out that you've never been a teenaged girl. You can hardly be expected to understand our sisterhood.”
“Fine,” he growled. “But it doesn't matter. I have put my foot down and I expect you to obey me. Understand?”
“Please, Mr. Schnee,” Pyrrha began in a humble voice. “I really don't understand. What do you think will happen if we spend too much time together? Is it her homework? I always do mine - we do it together!”
“That is not the concern.”
“Then what is? If I know what the problem is, I can try to rectify it! B-but I don't want to lose my friendship with your daughter purely because… because of a reason you won't even tell me!”
Those were real tears sliding down her best friend's cheeks. In the back of her head, Weiss was thinking it was Pyrrha who deserved to be in ‘Our Town’ .
“He means that you're behaving a little too… familiar with each other,” Mr. Nikos provided, looking quite ill at the prospect.
“What does that mean? How can we be too familiar? Doesn't the Good Book say to love our neighbor as ourself? I'm only trying to be a good friend and a good Christian to my neighbor.”
That seemed to finally do it. Though her own father looked relieved, Weiss was still squinting at them suspiciously. But there didn't seem to be anything more he could accuse them of without simply shouting more unfounded nonsense. So he sighed and shook his head, gesturing for Weiss to go inside.
“Sorry about this,” Weiss whispered to Pyrrha, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Then she hugged her very briefly, very chaste, and they shared an awkward smile before parting ways.
As the Studebaker was moved into the garage, her father joined her on their way up to the front door. “Don't you think for a second this is over. You may have fooled those Greeks with your Trojan Horse lies, but you won't fool me.”
“And don't think your pretend concern fools anyone,” she told him in a dangerous tone of her own. “You only care that you can't control me as well as you wish.”
“Don't speak to me in that-”
“What have I really done wrong? Snuck out once, just to check in on my friend? And I know,” she interrupted before he could interrupt. “You don't approve of Yang. She really isn't as awful as you think, but I've respected your wishes, and haven't brought her around anymore. And now you're suspecting my best friend, a girl so sweet she could be in an Ovaltine commercial, of being a bad influence? Where does it end? Am I just not allowed to have any friends at all?”
“Not the type of friends that you are engaging with lately. You've already demonstrated delinquent behavior, so why should I believe you when you state that you are giving it up simply because I've asked you to? Delinquents already misbehave, and you have done nothing to prove that you've reformed entirely.”
Weiss wanted so badly to shout at him. She wanted to kick him, or to tell him everything that was really going on and watch him be completely shocked. But she knew that Salem was counting on her to remain in his good graces - and despite not trusting her, she already trusted her more than she trusted her own father, tragic as that may be.
“I'm trying my best, Father. And I'm not doing anything wrong, I haven't hurt anyone - I'm keeping my grades up and spending leisure time with Pyrrha. And whatever kind of negative influence you seem to think she is, I promise you that she isn't. Can't you tell that just by talking to her?”
The man considered for a moment, still glaring down at her as they came to a stop in the living room. “I thought I could tell that by talking to you. Apparently, I was mistaken. But fine, pretend that all is well and you aren't about to disgrace our family name. You'll either prove that you were right, or you'll prove me right. Eventually.”
As the man headed to his seat by the fire, Weiss stomped upstairs. If she never saw him again, it would still be too soon.

Saturday was largely boring for Weiss. Hoping to appease her unreasonable parent, she spent most of her time practicing her singing lessons, and going over schoolwork to make sure it was ready for Monday morning. Her mother was present for breakfast, and she tried to engage her in conversation, but as usual the woman was already mentally divorced from everything around her. And with the male members of her family being so intolerable, she decided to avoid them altogether whenever possible.
But Sunday, she received a shock in the early afternoon. When Pyrrha came over, she felt vague surprise; she had expected her to keep her distance for a little while after essentially being accused of “deviant behaviour” without it being openly stated.
“I had to come right away,” she whispered once they were alone in Weiss’s room.
“Why?” She pressed a paper napkin into her hands. “What’s this?”
Squirming for a brief moment, Pyrrha breathed, “Did you know that… th-that Mrs. Belladonna works at that Italian restaurant downtown?”
“No, I didn’t,” she confessed. Privately, she thought it was an entirely fitting occupation for the woman.
“She does. I had to try very hard to keep a straight face when she came out to ask my family if we were having a nice meal. Then she said I ‘dropped my napkin’, though I still had mine in my lap. She stooped to pick it up, and…”
Weiss was afraid that Pyrrha was about to confess that Kali had made stronger overtures toward her friend. “And?”
“A-and it was like a magic trick! Her hands moved so smoothly, no one besides me could tell she took the napkin from my lap, pulled one from her apron pocket, and presented that to me as if it were the one I dropped! Really, I wouldn’t be surprised if she did shows in Las Vegas or something!”
“Oh,” she sighed in sheer relief. “Alright, well that’s… strange, but nothing worth flipping your lid over. Though I might have to ask if she has any card tricks.”
“No, no - it’s not that. Read it.”
“Read what?”
“The napkin,” she said impatiently, unfolding it for her…
And revealing a hastily-scribbled note. Suddenly, Weiss had realised that this wasn’t just a strange story that didn’t affect her. It was the beginning of something larger.
‘ Parlay went south. Rumble tonight - old factory, 5pm. Sorry but S needs you there. Love you sweetie.’
The fact that Kali had taken the time to tack on the last sentence did touch Weiss, even if it was easily eclipsed by the rest of the message. Reading between the lines, she had a feeling the real shape of the matter was that Salem didn’t need her in particular, but that all Dragons were supposed to be in attendance, or their loyalties would be called into question.
“What is a ‘rumble’?” Pyrrha was whispering softly. “D-do you think- should I stay, just to make sure everything’s alright?”
“No! I mean…” Reading through the note again and committing the details to memory, she wadded it up in her hand. “No, Pyrrha. Thank you, but you aren’t one of us. I don’t want you in danger, too.”
“But I want to help!”
Her heart breaking, she hugged her tightly. “Absolutely not. I already feel bad enough for dragging you into this as much as I have, so… so if you got hurt because of me, I would never forgive myself. I hate to ask you to help me at all, so just… please, drive me over to the Belladonna’s an hour earlier, then go straight home. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t, but… I trust you. Even if I wish I could do more.” They patted each other on the back. “I wish I weren’t the bearer of bad news.”
“It’s alright. Excuse me, I need to use the little girls’ room.”
As she watched the torn-up napkin swirl and rocket down the hole in the bottom of the toilet bowl, Weiss felt like she might be ill. But there was no sense in worrying herself sick now. There would be plenty of time for that when she got to the site of the rumble.

“Thank you for coming,” Kali sighed as they followed Blake to the factory. Weiss had already struggled into her leather jacket, and had dressed in blue jeans and a darker blouse in the hopes it would make her look less like a square. “I know this can’t have been an appealing way to spend your evening.”
“It wasn’t. Does Salem really expect me to be able to do anything? I’ve never so much as punched anyone in my life!”
With a long sigh, she pulled up behind Blake’s hog along the curb. This was an out-of-the-way location that they felt would be a safer place for the car; Blake would ferry the other two women to the actual rumble site one at a time. The trip had already taken twice as long, due to having to ensure they weren’t followed, so now they were trying to make haste.
“I understand. But if you don’t show, Salem will assume being a Dragon isn’t important to you. And if it isn’t important, it isn’t anything worth protecting.”
“That’s what I thought,” she grumbled.
“Just hang back,” she whispered, shaking a little with nerves. “The rest of us are a little more practiced at this kind of thing. We… might get a little bloodied up, but it’s very rare for anyone to die. Small town like Vale, rumours circulate pretty fast, and none of us want undue attention.”
“So no guns?”
“No guns. Probably a few baseball bats, but mostly fists and wits.”
“They don’t feel like louts for hitting girls?” When Kali laughed, she frowned as they got out of the car. “What’s so funny? I can’t believe they would actually hit us!”
“They know we could cut them down if given the chance. And since very few of us would consider dating them, it’s easy for them to not even consider us women anymore.”
That didn’t seem quite right to Weiss. They were still women, regardless of whom they dated. However, Kali was already hopping onto the motorcycle behind her daughter, so then she had no one to voice her displeasure to. No sense talking to the wind.
After a few minutes, Blake returned, idling for a moment. Weiss moved to get on but she turned around and said, “Wait.”
“What is it? I don’t want to be late and upset anyb-”
“I want you to know something.” After a few quick breaths, to prepare herself to speak, she said, “Yang is going to be trying really hard to protect you out there. And I’ll be trying to protect Yang. So just… don’t worry about doing your part, or helping either of us. Just protect yourself. By doing that, you’ll be shielding Yang as best you can with what you’ve got. That’s… that’s all I had to say.”
“Alright.” Then she hopped onto the bike behind Blake, sliding her arms around her middle. “But Blake?”
“What?”
“I know you won’t care, but I really hope we all make it out of this okay. That means you, too.”
She could just barely see the ghost of a smile flicker across her lips. “Really? If I didn’t, I would be out of your way.”
“You aren’t in my way in the first place. Aren’t we friends? Or did that whole conversation mean nothing?”
“No, no, it did. And we are. I’m sorry.” One of her hands lowered just enough to pat the back of Weiss’s hand before she took off from the curb.
When they got to the factory, the two different factions were clearly visible from far away - simply by the length of the hair of one side. Getting closer to the fenced-in parking lot, it was easier to tell differences besides that. Weiss was still pretty far away from the other side of the parking lot where the Huntsmen were gathered, but she thought she recognised the blue-haired boy from her first visit to Junior’s.
“You decided to grace us with your presence,” Salem said mildly. It struck Weiss that she still wore the heavy cloak, all but completely obscuring her face and arms. “Punctual. And admirable, for a new Dragon. Young Ilia has not arrived yet.”
Ignoring her wildly fluctuating pulse, Weiss gave a slight curtsy. Her healing brand seemed to tinge merely from Salem’s close proximity. “Well, m-maybe she got held up in traffic?”
“Are you making excuses for her?”
“No, High Dragon.”
“Good.” Turning back to the other women, she said, “The hour draws near. We have… five minutes before our warlord will approach theirs and dictate the terms of the rumble. Settle business if business is to be settled. If we can’t reach an amicable agreement, the rumble commences in ten minutes.”
It was at that point Yang stepped forward, cracking her neck. Weiss noticed she was ignoring her; keeping her focus on the matter at hand. It hurt a little, but she tried not to take it personally. “I’m ready.”
“Is the Duchess ready to attend the final parlay with the warlord?”
“Yes, High Dragon,” said Kali with a brief bow. That shocked Weiss thoroughly; she had a feeling before now that Kali was a relatively unimportant member, only tasked with cooking for them. Was she really some kind of lieutenant?
“Then all is set. I will repair to the shade. Cinder, if you please?”
The serious-faced girl bowed to her. Once she turned her back to approach the corner of the parking lot, she did flash Yang and Kali an inscrutable look, but that was all the hesitation she indulged in before following her master.
“I almost wished you didn’t make it,” Yang sighed in a shaky voice. “But… it would probably be worse if you didn’t.”
“I’m glad I got the message! Have you guys known about this and you didn’t tell me?”
Glancing over at the men at the other end of the lot, Kali answered, “It happened late last night. Salem met with their president in a one-on-one meeting that most of us thought was a bad idea. We were right; she insulted him and he insulted her back, and they left unhappy.”
“Wasn’t pretty,” put in a Dragon that Weiss didn’t know, other than by sight from Shopkeeper’s. She was an older Negro woman with a soft afro and multiple gold earrings, though the red bindi in the middle of her forehead suggested she might also be Indian. Her uncertainty made the sheltered girl wish she’d had more contact with other cultures in her short life. “I wasn’t supposed to do anything other than drive her to and from the meeting, but I had to fight off one of Watts’s boys to keep him from getting to the High Dragon.”
“I should have been there,” Yang growled under her breath. “This is my job, isn’t it?”
“Only if asked, honey,” Kali soothed her. “Don’t worry, Sienna had it under control. That’s what she’s there for: to step in if the High Dragon can’t fulfill her duties.”
“That’s your job,” Sienna countered with a slight smirk. Which Kali returned. “Isn’t it, Duchess?”
“My job is to feed hungry, growing girls.”
“I’ll bet you like them hungry,” she accused with a slight chuckle as she turned away from the conversation, and Kali only rolled her eyes before moving off to check on Blake.
That left Weiss with her girlfriend. While it was nice to be able to see her during the weekend, since she had expected to be waiting until Monday, these were less than ideal circumstances.
“Hey.”
“Shut up,” Weiss whispered as she wrapped her in her arms. Even though she still felt a thrill of dread every time she did that with her in public, she knew this was one of the few places where it was safe. Where though there might be a few jeers or catcalls, they were in good humour.
“God, I miss you when you’re not around,” Yang sighed into her hair, hands tightening against the back of her jacket. “Sweet little Schnee.”
“You don’t know I’m sweet yet. But I know you’re tangy.”
A little laugh blasted out of her as she pushed her back, grinning wide. “And I used to think you were a princess. The mouth on you!” They both giggled. “Oh… okay, so. I never got around to sparring with you, and now that feels like a big mistake. Really wish I taught you a few moves.”
“Blake already warned me,” she hurried to assure her. “I’ll keep my head down and try to defend myself, stay out of everyone’s way. But isn’t there some way we can… I don’t know, not fight?”
“Afraid not, by this point. They’re all really set on kicking each other’s teeth in. Salem and old Watts don’t care, since they’re both jerks and they’re not even gonna be in the rumble themselves. So this is the only way they can decide once and for all who gets Junior’s.”
“That’s what this is over? Junior’s? I thought that was neutral territory.”
“Yeah! When we’ve all been fine with sharing it before! I thought the talks were going fine, and then just… I don’t know, they really get under each other’s skin so easy.”
Weiss leaned her head against Yang’s chest, listening to her rapid breathing. “This all seems ridiculous. They’re acting like children.” When Yang didn’t answer right away, she whispered, “Can you try? For me? Just ask if there’s any other alternative to fighting. If they still say ‘no’, then… well, I guess we’ll resort to fisticuffs.”
“You sound like you’re from the turn of the century,” she laughed, petting over Weiss’s hair. “But… yeah. I mean, I kinda wanna bash their stupid faces in, but I also don’t want you in danger. So I’ll ask.”
“Thanks,” she breathed, before leaning up on tiptoes to kiss Yang’s cheek. “Love you.”
This time, there was a chorus of “oooooooh” from a few of the younger Dragons, and also from a couple of young Huntsmen with sharper eyes. Weiss stuck out her tongue at them and they laughed. Then she was distracted by a small figure jogging up to them from the corner.
“Sorry!” Ilia gasped out weakly, bracing against her knees while she caught her breath. Her hair was in wild disarray, and she was sweating quite a bit. “I couldn’t… find my jacket, my… and then the bus wouldn’t… pick me up while I was wearing it, so I had to… hitch…”
“Whoa, breathe,” Yang told her, patting her on the shoulder. “You should have got in contact with one of us. This is cutting it way too close.”
“Salem knows you weren’t here before,” Weiss warned her. “I think you might want to be ready to apologise.”
Ilia looked stricken. “Oh… oh n-no, I didn’t… is… Blake upset?”
Even though it was difficult, Weiss didn’t roll her eyes. Yang exercised no such concern. “Pal, you need to cool off with that. Blake doesn’t care.”
“Yet,” Weiss added, hoping it would soften the blow. “And you’re certainly not going to help yourself by chasing after her this desperately.”
At least her face was already flushed from running, so she had a ready excuse for the redness in her cheeks. “Oh… I… oh.”
“But hey, maybe you’ll impress her out there,” Yang put in, having figured out Weiss was trying to cheer her up and attempting to do the same. “Knock ‘em dead.”
“Not ‘dead’!” Weiss squeaked.
“Oh, right- uh… knock ‘em… alive?”
Ilia sighed, still wiping sweat off her forehead. “She doesn’t know I’m alive now, so it doesn’t matter if someone knocks me dead or if I do it to them. But… thanks, girls.” Then she paced off to lean against a telephone pole, slight chest still heaving.
“That’s gonna be a problem,” Yang grunted.
“What?” Weiss glanced between the two of them. “Ilia? She’s actually kind of sweet, in a… small puppy kind of way…”
“Not that. With Blake. She’s never been interested in her, and didn’t think she had what it takes to be a Dragon. And still doesn’t. I kind of agree, but I also don’t really have her chasing me around, so it doesn’t matter to me much either way. She got initiated so she’s one of us; that’s how I see it.”
“That sounds right to me, too. Do you think it's just that Blake isn’t interested in her making her act so dismissive of her?”
Yang shrugged. Then after a heartbeat, she added, “You like her, don’t ya?”
“I do. Like I said, she’s sweet, and I think a genuinely good person under all that hero worship.”
“Hmm.”
But that was all the chance they had to chat about it. The minute she saw a burly man walking toward the middle of the lot, Yang gestured to Kali, and they both began to walk forward together. Weiss couldn’t see their equivalent of a “Duchess” walking with the big man, but he could have been in his shadow very easily and he would be practically invisible.
“I hate this part,” Blake confessed as she and Coco walked over.
“What?”
“The waiting. Not knowing what they’re saying, and just… hoping it goes alright. And I hate seeing my mom out there.”
“I know,” Weiss said with an eyeroll. “You don’t like having to watch her hang out with us.”
“What?” Blake seemed genuinely surprised by that comment. “No, it’s not that. I just… she’s in danger out there. Both she and Yang are, but Yang’s tough; a brawler. Mom can scrap pretty well, but she’s not a tank the way the Dragon is.”
A thrill of dread shot up her spine. “Are you… saying that they might be in danger right now?” When Blake nodded, she took a step forward, but Coco instinctively threw up an arm to stop her.
“Calm down, Schnee. It’s fine.”
“But you just said-”
“We’re all in danger,” Blake went on for her as Coco lowered her arm. “Just by being here. The cops could bust this up and we’d all be cooling our heels in the slammer for weeks.”
Only then did the true danger begin to press in on Weiss. All the baseball bats, lead pipes, car antennae and bicycle chains were enough to ensure there would be blood. If the police showed up, they would probably have no qualms about shooting into the fray to break up the fight. They always seemed to be carefree with human life when it came to people they deemed as "thugs". She had been focusing so much on her duty to the Dragons, and to Yang, that she had suppressed all deeper worries about how terrible this rumble could be - partly thanks to the assurances that there were rarely fatalities. But “rarely” wasn’t the same thing as “never”. Had she stood idly by while Yang walked to her death?
Apparently not. After a few more gestures - some from Kali that were a bit more irate than Weiss would have expected - Yang and the man stepped back enough to let Kali cup her hands around her mouth and announce, “The warlords have reached a compromise!”
There were a few outcries, and a “What?!” from Cinder.
“There will be no rumble tonight! Instead, we’re going for pinks! There will be a brief recess of ten minutes to choose jockeys!”
That didn’t quite have the effect Weiss had been expecting, which was “relief”. Instead, there was a lot of muttering and worried glances, groups breaking into smaller clusters to mutter amongst themselves.
“What’s the matter?” Weiss whispered to Blake, whose face was a mask of misery.
“Racing for pinks. If we lose, their winner gets their bike. But… it’s worse than that.” Glancing over there and back to Weiss, she went on in a hushed tone, “The street race will be out in Mountain Glenn. Somebody might not make it home.”
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Princess and The Dragons