Page 69 of Kingdom of Feathers

Dragons were a perceptive danger she couldn’t afford at this moment.

She was therefore extremely nervous when Basil stepped forward and cleared his throat. “I wonder, Rekavidur, Dannsair, if you might honor me with a few private words.”

Chapter Eighteen

From the corner of his eye, Basil saw Wren start at his request. And unless he was mistaken, King Lloyd was as displeased as he was surprised. But Basil kept his focus on Rekavidur and Dannsair, not quite able to keep the irritation from his eyes. A month and a half he’d waited for their arrival, and this was what they came up with?

“Certainly, King Basil,” said Rekavidur, with dignity. Then, without warning, he pushed off from the flagstones, his wings whipping out in the same moment as his taloned front feet clutched hold of Basil’s shoulders.

Before Basil could do more than give an involuntary gasp, he went shooting up into the air, his legs dangling sickeningly below him. He could hear the shouts of his guards, and he grimaced against the rushing wind. He was going to get quite a scold when they got hold of him.

Rekavidur didn’t ascend high or fly far. They landed on the grass just outside the closest city wall, with the mountains rising up behind them. Dannsair alighted a moment later, and the two dragons fixed Basil with identically expectant expressions.

Basil ignored them, bending over double and taking a moment to catch his breath. When his stomach no longer felt like it was going to surrender his lunch, he straightened.

“A little warning would be nice next time.”

Rekavidur cocked his head to one side. “You are asking for another such journey at a later time?”

“No,” said Basil quickly. “I’m definitely not.” He drew in a breath, eager to get straight to the point. “I’m glad you came. I’ve been lingering here, hoping to see you.”

Dannsair sat back on her haunches, looking surprised. “You were lingering for us? Does that mean you would otherwise end your visit so soon?” She shook her head in amazement. “Humans certainly are hasty.”

“Time moves a little differently when you’re not immortal,” said Basil dryly. “I never dreamed I’d be here for a month and a half without even making progress on negotiations.”

“Give it time, young king,” said Rekavidur soothingly.

Basil wasn’t soothed. “Never mind the negotiations,” he said curtly. “They’re not your problem, after all.”

“True,” Dannsair agreed, nodding wisely. “We just came to examine the princess, for our own investigations.”

Basil was about to speak, but he paused. “Your own investigations? Investigations into what?”

“That is no more your concern than your political negotiations are ours,” said Rekavidur. There was no anger in his voice, but Basil knew he would discuss the topic no further. Something tickled in his mind, but he didn’t have the space to pursue it right now.

“Wasn’t there a more surreptitious way to conduct your investigations?” he asked instead. “Did you have to make such a spectacle of Wren?”

“Spectacle?” repeated Dannsair, blinking in confusion. “We just looked at her.”

“Yes, but you declared to the whole kingdom that you’d come to—” Basil cut himself off and ran a hand through his hair. There was no point trying to explain these kinds of subtleties to dragons. He knew Wren well enough now to have noticed her mortification—not to mention her father’s painfully obvious embarrassment—but in his experience, dragons were so entirely devoid of self-consciousness, they were almost incapable of understanding human sensitivities.

“Never mind,” he said hurriedly. “Are you willing to share with me what you observed?”

The dragons looked at each other, as if communicating silently. It reminded Basil of Wren for some reason. Probably just because everything reminded him of her lately. The last two weeks, when she’d barely looked at him during meals and avoided him altogether at every other time, had been more tortuous than he cared to admit.

“Yes, we’ll share our observations with you,” said Dannsair at last. “Although not our conclusions. You can make of the information what you will.”

Basil nodded eagerly. He’d take what he could get.

“Did you sense any magic? Do you think the princess is under a curse?”

Dannsair gave a guttural chuckle. “Two questions, with entirely different replies. Which do you wish us to answer?”

Basil forced back his impatience. He’d forgotten how infuriating dragons could be to communicate with.

“Both, please.”

“I see you are in a hurry,” said Dannsair, sounding more amused than ever. “So I will be as precipitate as a human. As to your first question, yes, we did sense magic. As to your second, no, she does not appear to be under a curse.”

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