Page 10 of Deven and the Dragon
Well.Fiora’sbook, and seeing it in Deven’s huge but careful hands was making Fiora’s belly flutter in a way he hated to find pleasant. A man who loved books. A tall, handsome, charming man who loved books, even. A tall, handsome, charming man who could use those big hands to carefully handle something else…what a sight, the sort of vision that would fill any book-loving (and handsome-man loving) dragon’s heart with yearning.
And Fiora loved books. Rather more than most people could even imagine, and even more than he loved tall men with rough but careful hands. Gold was useful, and beautiful, of course, but it didn’t thrill him the way a book could do, with its unknown secrets all waiting to be discovered.
Fred should never have shown Deven the library, even if this was only the public part of Fiora’s collection, and not his obsessively beloved stash of precious volumes that no one but he ever touched and no one else save Andrei even knew existed. If Fred had skipped over the library, then Deven couldn’t have run his hands over the books the way he might over a lover’s skin. Deven wouldn’t have chosen one of those books to read so intently, and Fiora would not have had the opportunity to spy on him through a hidden panel in the wall the library shared with a dim and crowded room used for storage of excess books.
Blaming Fred for his own weakness was satisfying but ultimately useless, as the problem of Deven remained. And seemed like it would remain indefinitely, if the comfortable way he’d crossed his ankles and slouched into Fiora’s favorite chair was any indication.
A pointed cough sounded from behind him, and Fiora nearly levitated into the air. He slapped the panel shut and spun on his heel, tucking his hands behind him like a guilty schoolboy as if he could hide what he’d been doing.
“What’s wrong with you, sneaking up on me like that? I like my privacy!”
Andrei shrugged. “So do others, my lord. Such as when they’re reading and believe themselves to be alone.”
“Humph,” Fiora said. And then, because that seemed weak, he added, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Which was, of course, twice as pathetic.
Andrei stared at him down his nose. “I was about to send Fred to conduct your guest to lunch,” he said, not even troubling to mock Fiora’s nonsense. “Are you going to join him?”
“How can I?” Fiora slumped back against the wall in despair. “As a dragon, I’m at least — imposing. Terrifying! I’m terrifying, aren’t I, Andrei?”
Was that a smile Andrei was trying to hide, as he turned his head? The bastard. “Of course you are, my lord,” he said soothingly. “Although if you have to ask…”
“Go ahead, laugh at me,” Fiora muttered. “You’re as tall as he is, at least. As a human I’m not frightening at all, just small and thin and odd. I breathe fire. I could destroy entire cities. Well, given a few days and a couple of decent meals, and not too many men with heavy crossbows, anyway. It’s not fair that I’m doomed to — to look like a weakling in human form, and to be alone.Forever.”
Andrei turned back to stare Fiora in the face again, his eyes unsettlingly sharp. “My lord. I’m trying to follow your train of thought, incoherent as it is, but I keep coming back to one common thread. Are you truly fussing over what this fellow thinks of you?”
“I’m not fussing!” Dragons did notfuss, thank you very much. Theybrooded, in solitary and majestic dignity — and yes, occasionally while complaining to their stewards while hiding in a closet spying on handsome men. But mostly when sitting atop a turret under a cloud-obscured moon, contemplating the futility and sorrow of life. “And I don’t care what he thinks of me.”
Perhaps he ought to have led with that, he realized, as Andrei smiled again. Openly, this time, and triumphantly, as if he’d maneuvered Fiora right where he wanted him. Oh, bother.
“Then you’ll straighten your cravat and come to lunch, my lord.”
And yes, that was checkmate, to a degree — but damn it all, Fiora was still lord of his own castle.
“Not lunch. It’s daytime. One can’t be mysterious in thedaytime. Dinner. No, after-dinner drinks. No, after that, in the garden, perhaps? I think the shadows will flatter me.”
Andrei sighed and shook his head. “As you wish, my lord. But,” he added in a tone that brooked no argument, “you willnotpush this off until tomorrow with some other excuse. You need to speak to him and begin to discover what purpose he has in coming here, because I guarantee he has an agenda of his own. Or orders from that absurd town council, or both.”
With that, he stalked out of the room, muttering about the courtesies due even to unwanted guests who might be thieves.
Fiora tried his bestto fight his way out of the corner Andrei had painted him into. Dinner came and went, with Andrei coming up to the turret roof to report that Deven had enjoyed his ham and greens and sipped his wine appreciatively. Andrei also mentioned that Deven had slipped into the kitchen afterward to thank the cook — and charm her and all of the kitchen maids.
“And don’t sulk about it,” Andrei said with terrifying insight. “I’m sure you would have enjoyed his company too, if you’d only gone to dinner like an adult. My lord.”
Sulk? Like anadult? How dare Andrei speak to him like that! He attempted to stand upon his dignity, but ultimately allowed himself to be chivvied into a fresh cravat. If he also changed into the black coat that was perfectly tailored to make him look elegantly slim, rather than just thin — well, he was a lord, and liked to look the part.
Fiora turned back and forth in front of the trio of tall looking-glasses he had set at angles to one another in his dressing room. How could it be bloody possible to spend so much on a set of mirrors and still not be able to have a good view of his ass? A cloak. He needed a long cloak, with a hood, something sinister and flowing.
Something that hid his (he suspected) too-flat ass.
Andrei snorted as Fiora took the cloak from its hook, but otherwise kept his opinion to himself. The snort was already too much, anyway.
And there. By candlelight, Fiora made an enigmatic figure, dramatic and romantic and possibly just alittleterrifying, even if in miniature. He nodded in satisfaction and then reminded himself not to do that again, because an enigmatic hooded figure bobbing its head looked ridiculous.
“You told him that his host would meet him in the garden for an evening stroll?” Fiora confirmed, possibly for the fifth or sixth time. “I won’t be waiting out there like an idiot while he flirts with the stupid kitchen maids?”
“I understand our kitchen maids are actually quite intelligent,” Andrei said blandly. “They fleece me every time we play cards, anyway.”
“That is so not the — I’m not going. I’ve changed my mind. You can spy on our — our spy, yourself, and anyway, I don’t want to!”
