Page 25 of Accounting for Drakes

Abil laughed. “Thank you, Nanny.”

Yorath frowned. “Nanitha? How many forms do you have?”

Nanny shrugged. “Twenty-five or so. This one dresses fancy.”

The gown was indeed fancy. There were curves and lace and gems and a high collar. Her hair was up in a pile, and the impish look was still there.

She winked and got out of the way. “More presents coming.”

“I thought the wedding wasn’t for a few days.”

“Oh, these are just for your arrival on this world and are setting you up with security for the future. These presents are just for you.”

The guards dragged the chest to Abil’s feet, and she leaned in to open it, flipping the lid back. “Oh. That’s a lot.”

She smiled. “It will help your drake be all it can be, and you will find yourself here with him.”

She bowed and walked to the side while Abil touched the metal. “Two hundred kilos?”

“You need to buff up a little if you want a family. It would be unfair to send you into his arms with nothing.”

Abil blinked, and her eyes widened as she understood. Yorath had a hopeful smirk on his lips.

Abil took the chest and set it on her lap while the guards watched. She chuckled and ran her hands through the gems and metalwork.

Yorath chuckled, and she realized she had been making happy sounds. Abil bit her lip and closed the box, setting it down next to her. “Right. Uh, next, I guess.”

Yorath took her hand. “You can play later.”

“All right.”

She sat with her hands on her lap, and the next offering arrived. Lengths of silk that were enough to start a wardrobe.

The rest of the morning was set in a path of items that were offered to her, and she admired, thanked, and then held them for someone to add to the sort that the maids had going on.

She was getting hungry when there was another murmur in the room, and the silvery blue population spread to the sides to let two very commanding males walk toward the throne.

One had gold eyes, and one had silver, but they looked nearly identical.

Abil looked at the two; one had an unhappy flex to his lips, and the other was hopeful and looking around.

Yorath got to his feet. “Arken, Zenim, welcome to my imperial seat.”

The grumpy one growled. “Where is she, Yorath?”

Abil looked at Nanny and then at Yorath.

“Ask those assembled if they have seen her.”

The one who was Zenim, based on his attitude, said, “Where are you, you low-born little bitch? How dare you run from me and make me wait?”

Nanny looked at Abil and stepped forward. “Now, where is the whiniest cunt in the land? Oh, yeah. Zenim. That would be you.”

Abil gasped as the larger male rushed in while the one with golden eyes smiled slowly.

Nanny waited until he was close and his hand was drawn back to strike. She lashed out and kicked him in the groin, causing acrunchthat could be heard in the chamber. He dropped, and she grabbed him by the back of his formal tunic and muttered, “C’mere, bitch. Isn’t that what you said to me? We need to have words, Zenim. Yorath has cleared the courtyard for our chat, you whiney brat.” She shook him like a dog shook a rat.

Arken looked to Yorath and Abil and said, “She’s strong.”

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