“Dear Jade, I’m sorry.” Briar sighed, crumpling up the paper and throwing it at the fireplace, watching as it crackled and turned to dust. Running his fingers along the colorful sprigs of his tiny new desk tree, he asked it, “Why is it so hard to say I’m sorry?”

“Because dragons do not apologize to humans.” He jumped as his father’s voice came from behind him. He groaned, head in his hands as he let his head hit the desk and the stack of papers just waiting for him to mess up again. He’d already tried starting five different letters, but nothing sounded right. Patting him on the back, Tadashi moved to an open chair nearby, sinking into it as he continued, “But in this case, you might be right.” His voice was tired as he leaned back in the chair.

“Mum doesn’t agree. She thinks we’re being silly for caring about what an ‘insignificant human’ thinks.” Briar replied, not forgetting to add sarcasm. He’d had to listen to her lecturing the four of them the entire flight back, and then all four of her children had studiously chosen to find themselves elsewhere as soon as they landed. She’d eventually stormed back to her lair, fuming. Raising his head, he asked, “Wait, why are you hiding from mum?”

Tadashi grimaced. “She kept threatening to sever her string when mine activated, so I thought it best to give her some space.” Briar winced. It had been bad enough for Jade when she was siphoning him, let alone his dad. If his mum chose to create backlash for her at that time? He didn’t want to think about it. Still, his dad distracted him by asking, “Why a letter? You could just call her on the mirror.”

Grimacing, he shook his head. “No, I don’t think she’d even answer if I did. I wanted to give her some time and space away from mum’s attack. Besides,” He held up a human romance book he’d read a long time ago and been reminded of tonight, “I remembered something this said. ‘The art of letter writing is a romantic one–spoken words come and go, but letters leave a record that can be read again and again. Pondering over every word and sentence, delicately weaving them together, trying our best to express our feelings to one another…even the most trivial aspects of daily life become part of a grand narrative and engrave themselves deeply on your heart.’ I thought she’d like it.”

His dad was staring at him in consideration before he finally nodded. “You might be right. But where did you get that book?”

Briar flushed a bit. “Uncle Bruno gave it to me. But uh, can we not talk about that? He told me not to mention it to mum.”

“No, no, you don’t have to worry about that. We don’t talk about Bruno with your mum.” Both of them shared a look, then nodded in solidarity. He didn’t want to have to rebuild his house after one of mum’s rampages again. Glancing at his courtyard, he smiled a little at the peach tree he’d grown there earlier. Vivi, Zuzu, and Devon were still curled up in it, having chosen it as their hiding place. It was basically the first thing he did when he got home.

Sighing, he glanced down at his ring. This was how she’d seen him from the start. It was like he could feel the wonder etched into the metal. He’d found himself looking at it over and over in the last few hours. “Hey, dad?” His father met his gaze as he asked, “Can you help me make something?” He gestured to the crystals and scales he’d collected in a pile at the side. He’d basically scoured his house for anything he thought she might like. “I know you and mum gave her scales, but…she’s so fragile, so I wanted to give her something in return…” Something from him, that would remind her that before his parents had gotten there, they’d gotten along just fine.

His dad gave him a small grin. “I think we can figure something out.”

Nodding, Briar grinned, inspired. He began to scrawl his letter out. It was short, but he smiled as he signed it ‘Your friend, Briar.’ He would figure out a way to go back to being her friend. At least now, he knew his path forward.