Your name is Delphinia Lupinus, but you rarely hear your own name. You are almost always referred to by your title: [i]the Dragon Tamer.[/i] The title is, of course, based on a misconception. The misconception that dragons [i]could[/i] be tamed. You don't tame them, you commune with them. You build trust with them and you are careful never to misuse that trust. Yes, you are a very protective Tamer. 

That is not all you are. You are a herbalist on the side, and a good one too, although picky with the plants you choose to dry and process. You run an apothecary partially to bear the burden of having been taken early from your childhood to be trained in the art of dragon taming. And you've requested the audience of the Heiress, as well as your former friend, because you bear news. 

Guards accompany you to her and her mother's chamber. You are careful to keep your eyes on the floor ahead of you, and quick to draw the top portion of your hood over your eyes as well as kneel and bow before the royals. The slightest trace of a bitter grimace taints your expression, and you take care not to show it because you are terrified to show dissent. Your father showed dissent. He was killed by knights when he'd tried to stop the horse-drawn wagon you'd been tossed into at nine years old to go to the castle for your new "career training". Thinking about it makes you ill, so you swallow the bitterness. 

For now. 

"Your gracious Majesties," you address the floor. "The dragons have communed with me. I am told that to the west, there is a rebellion rising. It grows, and it threatens your Empire."