[ She laughs, bright and light and not derisive, expecting it to be a joke. It is. It should be… Sankt Juris slaying a dragon was a part of his legend, a legend she once believed until experience and reality tore it from her. She's since learned that that legend had been true in some ways.
Perhaps she shouldn't laugh, considering what she is now, of how real dragons are to her, but Zoya can't help it.
But eyeing him, she suspects that it's not a joke at all. Her smile doesn't disappear, although she cocks a brow. ]
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Perhaps she shouldn't laugh, considering what she is now, of how real dragons are to her, but Zoya can't help it.
But eyeing him, she suspects that it's not a joke at all. Her smile doesn't disappear, although she cocks a brow. ]
You're not joking.