Kastali Dun

Bedelth knocked and waited. He knocked again. "I know you're in there," he called at last. His draconic hearing picked up a long, suffering sigh. A smile twitched at the corners of his lips.

Saffra had made a point to avoid him since their return, locking herself away with the mages, Marcel in particular. He had a feeling Mage Marcel was tempting her into teaching, and preparing her for it. She would make an excellent teacher, with her knowledge and kind heart.

Besides, he hadn't had much time to let her avoidance bother him. The king had kept them busy. After being gone from court for so long, hours were spent in the throne room, sorting out matters among the people, working through negotiations on various trade and industry between Dragondoms, and seeing to the fort as it settled back in.

Then there'd been the correspondence from his parents. A letter that had soured his mood days after returning to the capital. His stomach lifted into his throat. He swallowed against the acidic taste. He was a grown Drengr. Yet, he still hadn't conquered this thing.

The door opened. Saffra's beautiful face popped out into the hallway. Jocelyn hadn't yet returned, was due back later this afternoon, so it was only Saffra. She looked him over and said, "I'm...in the middle of...writing up a scroll for Mage Marcel."

His eyes narrowed. "You're not very good at lying, are you?" Her cheeks flushed. "I wanted to see if you'd go flying with me." She blinked. Her only show of surprise. "My parents have decided they'd like to visit. It's put me in a right mood. If I don't get out of this city and clear my head, I might go mad."

"Your parents are coming? Here?" There was a quick flash of anger but it cleared from her expression.

"Indeed. Unfortunately. Will you join me?" The words came out sounding slightly vulnerable. He didn't care.

Her face softened. "Yes. Let me—here, come in. Let me just..." She trailed off, striding across the room. She was dressed in a plain, homespun gown. For comfort. He'd grown used to seeing her in pants when they'd traveled. She grabbed a couple of skirt hikes and secured them at the front of her dress, revealing a pair of pants beneath.

Interesting.

He took a few moments to glance around. There was indeed a scroll and writing supplies scattered across her desk. But the ink was capped. Terrible liar indeed. He almost chuckled. Especially when he saw the book on the sofa, opened face down, and could almost smell her faint, lingering scent from that direction. The lilac she used in her soap.

He casually strolled in that direction, as if interested in the mantle. His gaze flicked to the spine, The Smith and his Maiden. He forced his lips together in a flat line to keep from chuckling. He'd caught her in the middle of a romance. No wonder she'd been hesitant to answer the door, to tell him what she'd been doing.

He casually moved away.

She turned toward him, slipping a pair of gloves into place, none the wiser. He ignored the gloves—didn't think about what it meant. She'd agreed to fly with him, hadn't she? That was good enough. "There. Ready."

"Very good, come."

He led her through to the king's tower. Talon had already given him permission to use the garden atop, which really was the only secret space large enough to take off with a rider. If they used any of the open courtyards, they'd attract attention.

An ache formed in his chest.

"Let me transform, and then we can go," he said, sparing her a glance before morphing into his scales. Dragons were lumbering creatures, but they were also agile and careful. He didn't trample a single flower, stayed on the cobbles to ensure no harm was done.

He swung his head in time to watch her spring onto his back. She'd grown skilled at the task. He refused to let his lungs expand with pride.

He vaulted from the ground, taking them high above. Her breathless laugh made his chest rumble. He circled the keep once, twice, trumpeted a greeting to the other Drengr in the sky, heading to and from the fort on business, then took them out towards the sea. It took an hour before he spotted the contingent of ships.

"Well, well, well," came Verath's deep voice in his mind. "Fancy my company? Couldn't wait any longer?"

With his keen eyes, he spotted his Shield-brother on the decks of one of the ships. He gave a playful roar. Saffra squealed at the surprising rumble. "I couldn't take another minute in that city, is what. Seems all the time traveling has turned me rather...wild."

"Hmm...is that your mate I spot on your back?"

"So what if it is?"

"You convinced her to fly with you? Impressive."

"Hardly a difficult task. I mean, look at me. Who wouldn't want to fly with all this?" A telepathic grumble of a laugh filled his mind. Changing the subject, he said, "Enjoying your final hours of freedom?" He swept them wide, taking a leisurely circuit overhead. While it had only taken an hour to reach the ships, it would take the ships hours more to reach the Bay of Bandu.

"You always were extra pissy over courtly duties. I certainly won't mind returning to them."

He didn't point out that Verath had likely chosen to be a Shield for different reasons than he had. But he wouldn't dare voice that. So instead, he said, "You might not be saying that when you discover the newest addition to our inner circle."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

He only grumbled, his laugh both telepathic and audible enough to shake his chest. Verath had no notion of the little ball of fur now terrorizing the King's Tower. He'd let him find that out later.

"Look!" came Saffra's excited cry. "I can see Desaree and Jocelyn, just there!"

He wished he could answer with his words, with their minds. Instead, he gave a muted roar of confirmation.

"Hello!" Saffra called down to them. He swept lower, just low enough that they saw each other wave, but not too low as to catch the tall masts with his body. Desiree and Jocelyn grinned.

He made one final circuit then said, "Enjoy the remainder of your voyage. We'll catch up later."

Verath's mental snort was his only response.

He flew them back towards the coast, then spotted a deserted beach and landed. He gave a huff, the only way to indicate that Saffra should dismount. She did, and he shifted, then peeled off his boots, discarding them. "Care for a walk?"

She opened her mouth, hesitated, then shrugged. Her boots were discarded beside his, her pants beneath her hiked skirts rolled to her knees. He took in her delicate calves, then turned away.

They set off along the surf line in silence. He didn't care to talk, even if he could have filled the silence with questions. His gaze was out at sea, mind thoughtful.

The wet sand sank between his toes. Such a wondrous feeling. He'd been raised at Fort Lin, so he'd always had the luxury of a nearby beach. He didn't know how the northerners did it, up at Fort Edge. To be closed in by the land, never seeing the vast ocean. The thought felt claustrophobic.

"How often do your parents come to visit?" Saffra asked.

His mood darkened. "Every decade or so. When it suits them. When they wish to gloat over my accomplishments." He ground his teeth. "Or when they wish to come and make themselves useful, by analyzing every aspect of my life and critiquing it down to the smallest detail."

"Which they assuredly do every time they come?"

"Assuredly." He deflected, saying, "What are your parents like?"

A soft smile. "Supportive. Kind. Humble." She shrugged. "I only got to spend that first decade of my life with them before coming here. But we exchange letters frequently, and visit when we can. They're proud of me, but I know they miss me. And I, them."

"They should be proud—very proud. You are an amazing woman, Saffra."

She was young, so young, he reminded himself. It was easy to forget, surrounded by long-lived Drengr. That only made him feel guilty. His frustration over their situation, that she hadn't outright accepted their mate bond, lacked insight on his part. That was his fault.

What she grappled with, her position, her situation, had all been thrust upon her without a choice. She'd been forced to grow up quickly, unfairly. In a way, he could relate.

He needed to remember this, when his frustrations grew. He'd been alive centuries while she'd been alive a mere two decades. His hurt over her rejection was selfish.

She deserved space. Room to discover herself. To understand herself. To grow and mature, especially after what she'd been through with Daxton.

He ought to say this to her, to apologize, but he didn't want to bring up uncomfortable topics. Instead, he steered their conversation to safety. Books they'd enjoyed. Speculation over Claire and Talon's bonding ceremony. Places they wanted to visit. Foods they'd enjoyed since returning to the capital.

Simple topics.

When he returned to the skies with her, his chest felt lighter than it had for days. He took the long way back to the keep, the least direct route, soaring high over fields and pastures. He thought of the other places they might fly together. Irelia Island was at the top of his list. But there were other secluded spots he wanted to show her, too.

Maybe this thing between them was fine as is. Perhaps he could be content with her company and friendship—nothing more. He'd take whatever she was willing to give. Anything was better than being shut out.

Later that afternoon, just before the evening meal, the contingent of ships anchored in the Bay of Bandu and happy reunions took place. The Dwargs were introduced to the city, given accommodations within the keep and several inns within the city. Mikkin and Jamie were also given their own accommodations while they remained. Even the little wretch of a Gobelin was given a suite befitting of his new circumstance. The first Gobelin diplomat Dragonwall had seen.

It was a blur of activity that bled into the evening meal, and then into the night, as Bedelth met with the king and his Shields, as they did each night. Over the years, it had become a ritual. By the time he collapsed into bed, he didn't have the capacity to think.

It was a blessing.

He woke to rocks tumbling in his stomach. He may as well have been a nervous youth. His parents were set to arrive that afternoon. He talked Koldis into sparring with him before the morning court, just to blow off steam and frustration. He envied Reyr, wished he'd have begged King Talon to stay in Fort Squall to assist. Talon would have said no, but it would have been worth a try.

If anyone suspected his growing anxiety, they didn't let on. He'd always done well to hide it. It wasn't until the end of the midday meal, as he was striding from the dining hall, as news of Kadeen and Seishi's impending arrival swept the keep, that Saffra sought him out.

He didn't allow himself to think deeply on that.

"Would you like me to stand beside you when we welcome our honored guests?"

For honored, they were. As a Shield, he was second in status to only the royal family. Which made his parents likewise high in status.

He almost declined. Almost. "That would be...I would appreciate it, if it is not too much to ask."

Her lip caught between her teeth, hesitant. "If it will help, yes."

"Thank you," he said, voice quiet.

When it was time, they assembled in the lowest courtyard, where guests were generally greeted. While it wasn't formal, like when the king returned from long journeys, when the entire keep was required to be present, there were still a number of nobles, as well as Talon, Claire, and their respective guards. Saffra was a steady presence on his left. Koldis stood on his right.

Minutes stretched by. His jaw nearly ached. At last, he caught sight of his father's glittering body, glinting in the sun, flanked by an entire wing of Drengr. His father's scales were darker than his, nearly red, but not quite the blood red of Verath's. He circled and landed. His mother, with her deep brown skin sat with her shoulders back, chin up, proud and regal.

She dismounted, detaching a pack that carried their belongings. The other Drengr circled above. His father gave them a signal and they departed for the fort. While they could have stayed within the keep as guests, they'd be more comfortable there.

"My son," Seishi said, her voice smooth, rich. She strode for him, his father transforming and falling into step beside her.

Saffra's fingers brushed the backs of his. He hid his surprise before stepping forward to greet them. "Mother, Father, welcome." He and his father grasped forearms, earning him a clap on the back. He turned to his mother and folded her delicate frame into his arms, hugging her.

For all he detested them, he still loved them.

"You look well," she said, holding his shoulders, peering up at him. She was a whole head and a half shorter. A small thing, but only in physical size. "Such a force to be reckoned with."

A movement in his peripherals. The king and his future queen approached. His parents swept into deep bows. "Kadeen, Seishi, rise, please. It is a pleasure to see you again." Talon and Kadeen grasped forearms. His father's skin was a shade lighter than his mother's, his face angular and firm. Unyielding. But in his old age, his dark hair was now streaked with white. Even his mother, regal as ever, had streaks running through hers.

A pang of guilt had his gaze shifting downward. For all their flaws, they were still his parents. They were aging. Even now, he could see the change the last decade had wrought.

"This is my mate, Claire," Talon was saying. Their gasps followed his introduction as they took her in. "She straddles both races, descended directly from King Eymar and Queen Isabella," he explained.

"It cannot be," Seshi said, breathless. "What a pleasure, my lady. An honor, truly." Seishi bowed, and Kadeen quickly followed as he added, "The rumors are true then? A new Spriten queen?"

"Indeed," Talon said. He didn't tell them it was only temporary. That information remained within their inner circle.

"Such a union as has not been seen since the first Drengr," Kadeen murmured. "What times we live in. To witness such history in the making. My son is honored to be a part of it."

Bedelth tightened his fist, then quickly released it, to hide his annoyance. If he was indeed honored—which, he was, of course he was—that was his honor to claim, not his father's, on his behalf. He refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long visit.

"Mother, Father, let me introduce you to the others," he said, speeding things along. They nodded. He went through Claire's entourage first, including Desiree and Jocelyn, who looked exhausted from their journey. "And this is Lady Saffra, our prophetess."

Seishi preened, bowing low. "It is such an honor to hail from the same lands as the esteemed Prophetess of Dragonwall," she said. "You are a beauty and a power. There are none who haven't heard the things you've done to help our kingdom over the years. Especially during the Gobelin Wars."

"Thank you, Lady Seishi."

"I do hope you and I might have tea together while we are here. I suspect my son will be busy most of the time, attending to his duties. I'll be in wont of a companion."

He almost protested, then stopped himself. Yes, he would be as busy as he possibly could be. Especially if it would limit their time together. But not at the sake of forcing Saffra to take his place with them.

"I would be honored, Lady Seishi," Saffra said, giving a small curtsey.

"Come, I will show you to your rooms," Bedelth said. "I am certain you are tired from your journey. Lady Saffra, would you care to accompany us? I'm sure my mother would love to get to know you better."

He half expected Saffra to throw him a glare, to call him out for it. She didn't. She merely murmured her acceptance. It was selfish, yes, but he wanted her here with him. Needed her.

He walked beside his father, Saffra and his mother trailing behind. His father launched into a myriad of questions about the recent battle. How many wild dragons did he personally slay? How much of a role did he play? How much honor did he win? He grit his teeth through each response, relieved when their door finally came into view.

"I must return to my duties, so I will leave you here," he said, opening the door and motioning them through. "I hope to see you at the evening meal."

"Of course," they both said, his mother going so far as to lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

"It was a pleasure making your acquaintance," Saffra added, again bobbing her head to each of them.

They said their goodbyes and strode down the hall, side by side. It wasn't until he rounded the corner that a breath burst from his lungs. He could breathe freely again. Holy gods.

A soft hand closed around his forearm, squeezing, halting him. "Bedelth?" He turned to her. "Will you be all right?"

He half snorted. "I'll live through it. I always do."

She sighed, thoughtful. "I see what you mean about them. How they are." Her mouth pressed into a line. "Your mother just peppered me with endless questions about you. She wanted to know all about how Dragonwall's people view you. How the court views you. As if their opinions are the most important thing."

"As if my status, reputation, and deeds are the only thing they care about," he said. She nodded. "It has always been so." His throat tightened. He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pocket. "Thank you for being here with me. I...After a decade, I'd forgotten how trying they can be."

"If you need me at all, to help during their stay, just ask."

His chest swelled. He searched her face. "I couldn't."

"Why not? We are mates, after all." His world tilted. "You're allowed to ask these sorts of things from me. Even if we weren't, we are still friends, are we not? Or...trying to be?"

His thoughts scattered. He wanted to turn back time, to hear those words again. We are mates. He wanted to request that she clarify what she'd meant by acknowledging the bond. Was she aware that she'd done it?

He hid his surprise. "We are friends," he clarified. "And if you can help me get through the next few weeks alive, I will be forever grateful."

A small grin pulled at her lips. "I'm sure that together, we can successfully conspire against them to ensure your survival."

His lips twitched. "With your cunning? I have no doubt on the matter. Thank you."

"I should return to my work," she said at last. "I'll see you later, Bedelth." She offered a tiny bob of a curtsy.

"Good day, Lady Saffra." She turned and disappeared down the corridor and around the corner. He simply stood there and watched her go.

His heart thumped, swelled, pressed against the insides of his chest. Was it too much to hope that things were changing between them? If they did, would he have the courage to suffer his parent's disapproval in claiming her, regardless of how the laws were amended?

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐

Happy Friday, Bookdragons!

I wrote this chapter this week, a little uncertain, but I'm rather pleased with how it turned out. I'm finding that as I consider the second half of this book, as I consider the plot, it's starting to turn in a direction I didn't quite anticipate initially. I love how when I write a book, its outcome can take me by surprise. 

I don't know who we will see next week. I haven't written the chapter yet, but I'm thinking Claire. I'm like 99% certain. 

See you then!

-Mel