Page 93 of Wickedly Ever After
“The child practically jumped down his throat and told him if he bit her father-in-law again she’d kick him in the groin. He stopped in a hurry. I probably ought to thank her. She’s the reason I have two bites in nonvital places and not three very vital places.” He laughed. “I don’t know what Her Goodness feeds princesses these days, but this one grew up on nettles and brimstone. Pity sheisn’ta dragon.” He wrapped his robe around himself and took a seat on a large stone chair. He motioned Hector to take a similar chair drawn up to a table where a large flagon of smoking liquid sat next to a large glass. Adair poured the black ale, took a long drink, and set his glass down. “So, Hector. Why have you brought Her Goodness with you? I expected you, but not Ida North.”
Hector squirmed. “Well, as a matter of fact there was a littlemishap at the start of Happily-Ever-After. Due to some issues with—” He hesitated. Yes, it might have been the choosing, but he didn’t want Ida eaten. “Well, never mind exactly what the issue was. It looks like the princess and the dragon fell in love with each other instead of the princess falling in love with the prince as usually happens. Nothing I can’t sort out, but Ida deals more with that part of the magic than I do.”
Adair’s pupils constricted slightly. “A mishap.”
“A minor one.”
“Hmm.” Adair snorted smoke. “Better not mention that to Morga.”
“I don’t intend to,” Hector said. “Adair, I am deeply sorry this happened. You have my word I will make it right.”
The Flamelord placed his fingertips together. “I trust you. You’ve never done anything detrimental to the safety of our nation before. But this can’t stand, Hector. She can’t be a queen of dragons, no matter how much my son demands we recognize her. I told him if he wanted to have a fling with a human, I’d look the other way, but to have a human wear the mantle his mother has worn since we mated—completely unacceptable.” He took another swig of the drink. “That’s when he jumped in the middle of me.”
“I will—I will fix this,” Hector said. “But it may take time.”
“And I will give you that time,” Adair said. “I owe it to you, both as my friend and as Alistair’s protector and teacher. But if my son doesn’t divorce that princess, the dragon council will meet and they will choose another king. I don’t think either of us want that.”
No, Hector most certainly did not want that. The dragons would find Alistair unfit to be Flamelord and appoint another.Then they would kill him, his mate, his father, and his mother. Hector would be left with a messy diplomatic situation as well as four burials—well, three.
Custom dictated they’d eat the Flamelord.
42
Ida
I am extremely reluctant to take the unprecedented step of removing both of our oldest and most talented witches. I know you feel, as I do, we owe a great deal to Ida North’s unwavering commitment to advancing the understanding and perils of good magic—however you may feel about her prickly personality—but we can’t simply kick her out of the Council to make a ridiculous queen look less ridiculous. We must proceed carefully here, not just for the optics of the situation (seriously, could Annabeth have made this more awkward!) but for the sake of magic.
There’s no doubt this is a magical disaster of epic proportions, with far-reaching ramifications, but I, for my part, would rather fire Hector than Ida. After all, anybody can manage monsters.
Letter from Good Witch Tara South to Wicked Witch Agatha East
Dinner with the dragons was a strange affair. Morga served them at a long table in the formal room with the firewall, clearly determined to extend all the hospitality due to visiting celebrities, but her heart clearly wasn’t in it. She wouldn’t quit crying, and thehot tears created enough steam to make the whole room feel like a sauna. Ida was glad when Morga finally excused herself to tend to her mate.
“Where are Tinbit and Hari? They should be here by now. Something’s happened.” Ida tossed her sandwich on the plate, still hungry, but she’d eaten as much chargrilled cheese as was wise. Exactly two bites.
Hector chewed through his sandwich as placidly as a cow. “The pony had a thorn. Tinbit won’t push the animal hard.”
“It will be dark soon.”
“Not for another two hours on this side of the mountain.”
“I wish I’d taken my crystal when we left this morning.”
“If they aren’t here in another hour, I’ll borrow a broom and go out and look for them.”
Someone must have told the man if he didn’t chomp his food into mush he’d choke. “How can you be so calm?” Ida tried to push back her chair but found it far too heavy and stony to move.
Hector finally swallowed. “Because I can’t do anything right now. My medicines are on the pack pony. The pony won’t be here until Tinbit and Hari arrive, and I couldn’t speed it up if I tried—those creatures are simply immune to haste spells.” He took another bite of sandwich. “I gather it didn’t go well with the princess and Alistair?”
“Horribly,” Ida said. “They refused to separate, even to talk.”
“That’s not surprising. Newly mated dragons rarely leave their cave for the first few weeks. It’s essential they have sex almost continuously in order to develop a tolerance for each other’s venom.”
So that’s why Alistair had laughed. Ida blushed. “Well, I’d say they’re handling that little requirement quite well.”
Hector sipped his tea with an infuriatingly unconcerned look on his face. “Surely the princess doesn’t want to leave her family to become a dragon queen. She can’t know what it entails.”
Ida folded her arms. “She claims she does. It’s clear they’ve talked a great deal about it. He intends for her to be queen. And she feels the same way.”
