Page 154 of Cast in Conflict

It’s not the same thing.

You understand that I want to be helpful to you, don’t you?

She nodded.

I understand why Emmerian chose not to open this particular discussion. It’s the source of most of her conflict with the Dragon Court. The former Arkon never discussed it; he didn’t allow it to be discussed in his presence at all. If Bellusdeo had opened that discussion, Emmerian would have accepted it. She didn’t. It’s far, far too personal.

Kaylin muttered a quiet Leontine curse. If he’s going to be the actual father of her children, they’re going to need to discuss things.

They have time. And even if they didn’t, even if they were both somehow mortal, time is necessary. Time. Space. Look, he cares about her. He clearly cares about her. But those feelings are his problem; they are his to untangle. If he opens that discussion, they become her problem.

But it is her problem.

Not by choice. In my opinion, he sees her clearly. Prior to Karriamis’s intervention, they could have continued to interact as they have. Given time, they might have been able to build a stronger connection.

But they could still do that.

Look at him. I’d tell you to look at Bellusdeo but she’s vanished, which is probably for the best. They no longer have the time to pretend none of this exists, and even if they had, Karriamis wouldn’t allow it.

I don’t like him.

This amused Severn.

I mean it.

I know.

He’s done nothing but cause pain to people who don’t deserve it. I don’t even understand why this is necessary.

It’s not necessary for you. But Karriamis is like Helen. He’s not disinterested. His involvement will be personal should he offer Bellusdeo the Tower.

At this point, I’m not sure she’d touch it.

Severn was. I think this is a question or a decision that Emmerian himself has to make, and Karriamis knows it. Bellusdeo is angry because, if she’s willing to talk about far more than Emmerian, she, like Emmerian, doesn’t step across unspoken boundaries. She knows what it would cost her; she doesn’t intend others to pay a price she won’t.

I’d like to punch Karriamis in the face.

So would both Dragons.

Emmerian was not a small Dragon, if Dragons could ever be said to be small. In the muted, gray light, the blue of his scales had shifted to a color that was almost purple—not as dark as the Imperial indigo, and not as red as Tiamaris often was in draconic form. His wings were gathered, but not folded, and his front legs left the ground as he extended his neck, lifting his jaw until the under-scales of chest and neck formed a single straight line.

I think he’s leaving.

He roared.

Kaylin lifted her hands to her ears as that roar echoed.

That’s not an echo.

No, she thought, as the sound enlarged and the ground beneath her feet began to truly rumble. She thought it was Bellusdeo.

But no, the third voice that joined the two was the familiar one. The first reply—if it was a reply—had been Karriamis.

The three draconic voices clashed and rumbled; it was like being caught in a thunderstorm—from inside the clouds. There was no place to which she could retreat, and no polite way to muffle the sound.

It might have helped if she could understand what the three were saying, but if she’d shown aptitude for learning unfamiliar languages, she doubted that extended to the draconic. They weren’t even supposed to be speaking it in the open streets or public areas because...it sounded like a disaster. Even if people could get used to it, it would cause nothing but hideous traffic jams when horses panicked, horses not being stupid.

She wasn’t surprised to see a gold dragon crash through the sky—and shatter it. The shards dissipated before Kaylin could move her hands from her ears to her face, and a tunnel appeared to form above what had been sky, as if they had been stranded at the bottom of a dry, empty well and could only now see the walls.

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