Page 21 of The Dragon Queen

“While you’ve been away, I’ve had other dragons fly out to the three loyal duchies,” Draven informed him in a voice that made clear he was doing Flynn a great favour.

“Including Skane…?” Flynn stepped forward with the stiff legged gait of an angry dog.

“Of course, to Skane. It’s the most powerful ally we have,” Draven replied, crossing his arms.

“You’re bringing my…” I was by Flynn’s side, my hand sliding inhis in seconds. His fingers gripped mine far too tightly. “You’re bringing my family here?”

“The funeral of my parents must be held soon.” Draven walked across the room, pulling open a wardrobe and drawing out his own dress uniform. “All the important members of the aristocracy must be present for it, but also…” His hand slid to the epaulettes of the jacket, flicking away a mote of dust. “If I had them escorted here on dragon back?—”

“You could use the dragons to read the minds of those they transported.” Brom shook his head slowly. “Cunning.”

“I’ve instructed each dragon and rider to report to me anyone they can’t read.” Draven’s fingers moved swiftly, undoing the fastenings of his tunic then wrenching it up over his head. I never seemed to grow accustomed to it, the pale beauty of his body. He caught my stare, pausing for a second, a slight smile encouraging me to take a longer look. Not for long, though, because he was forced to continue. “If they’ve been using some of the same tricks my mother did?”

Dragonstone, that went unspoken. The material was an odd thing. A psychic amplifier, it seemed to allow the strong to impose their will on others. The crystal eggs were made from it, and they acted like a repository for memories, information, that could be stored for someone else to experience viscerally.

“You think dragonstone can be used to block a dragon’s intrusion into your mind?” Soren asked.

“We’ll soon find out.” Draven was dressed, his hair tied back neatly into a soldier’s queue, and he looked every inch the prince. No, king. “All the potential suspects will be at dinner. Flynn, no one wants to bring those who murdered your family to justice more than me, and today we take the first step.”

The two men stared each other down as Draven appeared to will him to understand. A brief nod in acknowledgement, that’s all Flynn gave him.

“Now, Pippin.” Another garment was produced. This one was a flowing golden gown, the material quite familiar. Flynn had torn itoff my body in his hurry to get to me. “The dressmaker did what she could at short notice?—”

“No.” Brom’s response had us all turning his way in time to watch him march forward and pluck the dress from Draven’s fingers and then toss it onto the bed. “Pippin is a rider.”

“She’s my queen,” Draven ground out. “She must look the part of one.”

“Pippin doesn’t wear a crown yet, so she remains a rider. She should be wearing her dress uniform,” Brom insisted.

“Then the ring must go.”

If Flynn was a dog spoiling for a fight, Brom and Draven were curs with their fangs bared, growling threats.

“No.” I shook my head, snorting when I realised I’d echoed Brom. Draven’s eyes whipped around to meet mine, and for a second I saw the pain there. “And before you start biting my head off, hear me out. You’ve invited all of these nobles to sit at your table.” The barest of nods was all I got in response. “You want to feel them out. If I walk in there looking like a queen, your choice of wife is made clear to all and sundry.”

“Because that decision has been made.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to let them know that.” Ged smiled. “Seems like you’re going to get a whole lot of people falling all over themselves to get your attention if they think you’re an eligible bachelor.”

“No.” It seemed we were all reaching our limits tonight, but Draven said this, “Wear what you like, Pippin, but you’ll be on my arm the entire night. I don’t pull rank often.” Some rude noises from the room made clear that no one else agreed with him. “But I must insist on this.”

“A lukewarm bath?” I said to Soren. “Show me the bathing room. Do I even have a dress uniform…?”

Apparently I did.I was dressed in it, trying very hard not to tug at the tight collar as we all stood at the private door that led into the formal dining room.

“Hellishly uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Draven whispered, taking my arm in his.

“Is it too late to put the frock on?” I replied, shooting him a smile. “A corset would have to be less confining than this.”

“Try this.”

Ged moved into view, undoing the top button that kept the collar clasped tightly around my neck. The silver dragon that was pinned to the throat was removed and then used to pin the collar closed, though considerably less tight.

“That’s not regulation,” Soren said with a frown.

“Neither is breathing, but I think you’ll find our girl likes doing it a lot.”

I watched our drill sergeant’s jaw work, then his hand moved, undoing his own collar and re-situating his pin.

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