Page 44 of Dragons' Bride
Tavias’s spine stiffened, the scales running along it rising beneath his shirt. Marideth knew exactly what those combs were, and her suggestion to remove them was no accident. Something was going on, but Tavias would have an easier time getting an enemy general to talk than the chamberlain.
Hauck seemed to be feeling more optimistic on that front, because he turned to Marideth with the same hopeful expression he’d used as a pup after getting caught stealing pastries from the kitchen.
Ignoring Hauck as efficiently as she’d ignored Tavias, Marideth swooped behind Kit and herded her away. “Dinner is in an hour, Your Highnesses,” she called over her shoulder in that same voice they’d heard since childhood. Only difference now being her restraint from reminding them to wash their hands and scales before sitting at the table.
Quinton turned on his heels and walked off without a word.
“What a pleasure to be home,” said Hauck. “How I’ve missed Ettienne and his rutting games.”
* * *
Cyril,Hauck, and Tavias all met outside Kitterny’s room right before dinner. She was slightly pale with nerves, but holding up, though the absence of the dragon combs made her look naked somehow. Vulnerable. Following the direction of Tavias’s gaze, Kit smoothed her hair, which was now braided and pinned.
“They were just jewels,” she said. “Honestly, it feels lighter without them.”
They weren’t just jewels, they were marks of favor.
“Stop making things complicated,” Hauck pushed past them into Kit’s room. “The combs are still here, aren’t they? Sticking them back in can’t be all that difficult.”
Tavias swallowed a groan, but fortunately Cyril had the patience Tavias lacked.
“You know as well as we do that Ettienne is behind this,” Cyril said with a calm Tavias felt none of. “Given that we have other hurdles to clear today, perhaps we can find a more practical hill to die on than the combs?”
Hauck’s face darkened. “Yes, we wouldn’t want to do anything to upset my liege.” Only Hauck could make the honorific sound like an insult, but he was talented that way. At least he wasn’t contradicting Cyril. At the moment, Tavias would take it. Offering his arm to Kit, he led the way to the pack’s next battle ground.
The family dining room table was set for six when they arrived, Quinton already inside and leaning menacingly against a wall. Unlike the formal hall, the room was small and welcoming, with a lit hearth at one end and vases of fresh flowers along the walls. The candelabra hanging from the ceiling cast warm light on the brown table cloth, without any of the harsh shadows that made the palace look severe.
At least until Ettienne arrived a few minutes later and all the warmth left the room.
Tavias’s father, the man he feared and loved in equal measure, was tall, with broad shoulders, dark eyes, and a sharp widow’s peak to match his sharp mind. Ettienne was an onyx dragon, just like his brother and Geoffrey. Small crows' feet at the corner of Ettienne’s eyes were the only signs of the centuries Ettienne had on them. The crows’ feet and the power that forever pulsed from inside him.
Tavias put his hand to his heart and lowered to one knee, the others following suit behind him. “My Liege.”
“Tavias.” Ettienne stepped forward, clasping Tavias’s forearms and pulling him upright. Ettienne’sface warmed with a smile. “It is good to have you back. The armies have missed their general, and I have missed my son."
“Thank you, Father.”
“I am pleased to see you’ve kept the pack from killing each other.” Ettienne clapped Tavias’s shoulder and motioned for the others to rise. “Marideth has worried herself sick over how you four were getting along, and I must admit I shared some of her nerves.”
“I’m sure you stayed up long nights fretting.” Hauck strode to the table and sprawled into a chair, somehow managing to make a pristine uniform and toned body look unkempt.
Tavias’s jaw clenched. If he didn’t kill Hauck before the evening was over, it would be a close call.
“I’m sorry, am I making you look bad, Brother?” Hauck asked.
Ignoring both Hauck and Quinton – who was now so still and silent that he seemed to melt into the shadows, Tavias held his hand out to Kit. "Father, allow me to present our new bride apparent, the human, Lady Kitterny."
Ettienne’s dark gaze weighed her with careful calculation. “A pleasure, Lady Kitterny.”
“Thank you, my liege.” Kit managed to curtsy, a dose of anxiety and fear spiking her scent as Ettienne’s attention tightened around her.
Ettienne obviously smelled the same thing Tavias did – and licked his canines the way a dragon might when staring down an especially juicy deer.
“Would you like to sit down, Kitterny?” Cyril asked, tactfully pulling out a chair between his own seat and Hauck’s. She gave him a grateful look, slinking away from the line of Ettienne’s fire while Tavias took a seat at his father’s right hand. Quinton was the last to join, taking a chair beside Tavias, and dedicating the whole of his attention on the window. As if nothing in the room was relevant to his existence.
While the servants brought in wine and food, Tavias listened to Ettienne discuss the current state of Massa’eve affairs. The blight had been active the past month, with Mors creatures coming up from the gloom and attacking Maasa’eve soldiers with increasing sophistication. There was speculation as to whether Nagaia or the bone court king might be dabbling with forces from the dark realm. Lady Autumn, the sister of Slait – the earth court – ruler, in the far north was expected to arrive for the Equinox Trails.
It was all important news, but Tavias found himself struggling to concentrate on Ettienne’s words while Hauck and Cyril entertained Kit just across the table from him. Was there a sheen along Hauck’s eyes from his wine? No. Impossible. He’d not had that much – Cyril would have stopped him if he’d tried.
