Page 48 of Golden Queen
She gave him a look, and he closed his mouth. I could hardly believe it. Markus was not one to allow a woman to interrupt him, let alone silence him with a single glance.
Britaxia reached beneath her armored tunic and pulled out a long blade of godsgrass, complete with the shimmering grains at the head. "To that end," she said, holding out the golden stalk, "the king has bid us to share one of our most closely guarded secrets."
She motioned to me. "If you would allow me to borrow your friend for a moment."
I held my dragon out to Britaxia’s waiting hands. She looked at the mage’s palms for a heartbeat, and then darted her eyes to me. I realized she was asking me for permission.
"Go ahead," I told her, awed by the intelligence I saw in those blood-red eyes. They were eerily similar to Britaxia's when she had been angry.
The dragon hopped to the waiting hands, and together, she and the dragon mage turned toward the regent. I felt suddenly bereft, as though thefeeling of her had already become so intrinsic to me that the absence of it made me feel incomplete.
"Stay back," Britaxia told my uncle with a grin.
She held out the godsgrass stalk and muttered a word I didn't understand. I could tell it was a command, though, and the dragon obeyed.
She opened her mouth and a perfect stream of pale, silvery flame shot out to burn the godsgrass.
The fire was brief, shooting out no more than a foot before cutting off abruptly as the dragon snapped her jaws closed. But...after the flames had gone, the godsgrass remained; whole, untouched, and unburnt.
I heard a gasp from the end of the row of chairs—one of the courtiers next to Bryce Mandelian.
My uncle surged to his feet, stepping forward to touch the head of the godsgrass stalk to prove that it was whole.
Britaxia only smiled. "So you see, Lord Regent, there is no reason to fear the dragons, for dragon fire cannot burn the godsgrass."
The rest of the assembly was a blur of astonished voices exclaiming over the revelation and asking impertinent questions about why the secret had been kept for so long.
The Darkwatch mages took the questions with a grace that the Windemerians seemed unable or unwilling to emulate. The outlandish behavior of my courtiers came near to embarrassing me.
When the meeting came to a close, the noblewomen swarmed Aben Verforge, who it turned out was a nephew to the King of Nightfall.
They pressed the big mage for more information until he promised to give them a demonstration in the godsgrass later with his dragon, Melor.
I thought it was Aben’s open, friendly face that made him the target of their interest more than anything, but the ladies of the court made no secret of their appreciation of his size.
“I don’t think I have ever seen someone quite so tall!” A woman with a mass of dark hair shot through with silver crooned to him. She reached out to lay a hand on his arm. “Are the women in your kingdom also…so large?”
Aben looked at her with that dazzling smile in place. “Not as a rule. But what they lack in height, they more than make up for in climbing skills,” he teased.
Instead of being shocked, the women grouped around Aben Verforge giggled, preening like birds.
My lady in waiting, Franca, was out in front, batting her eyes and shooting me knowing glances as she clutched the strand of pearls looped around her neck.
Taiger left my chambers later that evening after teaching me more about dragons than I ever imagined could exist. I found myself with so many questions that I began to feel guilty about how incessant I had been with him.
He patiently answered every single one I had, adding information when he saw me struggling to understand. By the end, he had a haggard look about him that caused me a great deal of regret. So, I dismissed him, telling him to come back if he needed anything and directing him to the wing of the castle where I knew the Darkwatch mages had been accommodated.
He offered to take my dragon with him, and despite the fact that it felt absolutely wrong somehow, I let him. I still felt a fair bit of anxiety that I would not know exactly what to do with her.
The dragon surprised me by seeming excited to be passed off to the boy. I watched them go with that same feeling of loss from the receiving room.
The whole Nightfall party, including Juriae's emissaries from Radune, would stay in the castle for a few nights as custom dictated. It was considered rude not to offer guests chambers. It was doubly rude not to accept them.
But just the idea of Io in the castle was unnerving.
My chambers were in a separate wing, so far removed from his that he may as well have been out in the city. I knew the path that would take me there by heart, though, and I had to fight with myself not to go.
Going would be wholly inappropriate—reckless and stupid—bordering on dangerous for both of us.
