Page 128 of Nine-Tenths

I'm lost in my thoughts when the Lord Toronto's partner, a handsome middle-aged dragon who is as comfortably rotund as the Lord Toronto, leans in conspiratorially to me and says, "We’re glad to have you too, son. Wonderful that Niagara has overcome his little difficulty."

"Little difficulty?"

"Wretched tragedy, what happened to Miss Woodley," she says. "All the same, you needn’t fear, he knows better now."

What?

"Watch my shoulders, Mine Own, rather than my feet," Dav says, and that’s a tight Customer Service Smile if I’ve ever seen one.

"Right, uh, sure," I mumble, blindsided by the dance starting. Lord Toronto bumps into my arm. "Sorry!"

"Quick, to the right," Dav chokes.

"Right, right," I mutter, and trip along to follow the line. Dav holds out his hands, and leads me through the patterns. When we come together for a turn, our arms curled around one another’s waists. "What are they talking about?"

"Oh!" Lord Toronto says, when we collide again. Not my fault this time, I don’t think. The asshole is trying to eavesdrop. "Has Niagara not given you his full name yet?"

"My Lord," Dav warbles. "Now is really not the time."

"Nonsense," Lord Toronto laughs. "If one can’t gossip on the dance floor, then where?"

"No, I know his middle name," I say, earning a startled, hurt look from Dav. "It was on the news. What does it matter?"

"A dragon’s middle name is not given at birth, Mine Own," Dav says. "It is earned."

"So? What’s so special about George?"

"I don't suppose I could expect you to know your draconic histories," Lady Toronto says, as we weave in a circle. "But even you must know of Georgius of Lydda."

"Yeah, the Dragonslayer."

"The vicious soldier who used his faith to betray Christian dragons to the Romans. A murderer of his own," the insensitive cow sniffs.

I turn to Dav in horror. "Murderer of his own?"

Poor Dav,I think as the dance brings us back into orbit. My sweet, kind, generous man, with his heart large enough to hold the whole world... andthisis what they tell him he’s worth? And the news had used his full name like it wasnothing. Like it wasn't a shard of hate stuck into Dav's heart.

"And this is just something peoplebanterabout? Like common gossip?" I grit out.

"Itiscommon gossip, Mine Own," Dav says, valiantly attempting to keep calm.

I'm overwhelmed with a righteous, unselfish rage on Dav's behalf. They talk about this injustice soeasily, so cruelly. "That’s not fair! You were asoldier—"

"Oh, no, not on the battlefield," Lord Toronto corrects me. I despise him. "His first Favorite."

I stop.

Step out of line.

Dav lets me.

"FirstFavorite?" I echo dumbly.

I feel like I've been concussed. Everything around me has stopped making sense.

And then, all of a sudden, itdoes.

This is what he meant byI’ve done it again.

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