Consorting with Dragons Read online

  “If someone had told me a week ago I’d be consorting with dragons, I would have laughed at them,” Jasen said. “I’d never even seen a dragon until yesterday.”

  The man cocked his head. “You mean up close?”

  “I mean at all. We don’t see dragons very often where I’m from.”

  “Ah, I see. And what brings you to the Draelands?”

  “I’m here for Court. What?” he said at the surprised look that came across the man’s face. “Why do you look so shocked? Am I that shabby-looking?”

  “Not at all. It merely surprises me that you are here without an escort. Lady Isalei is strict about her charges.”

  “Who is Lady Isalei?”

  The man’s confused expression deepened. “She is the keeper of all the aspiring consorts. Surely you met her when you arrived?”

  “I was late,” Jasen mumbled. “I suppose that means I am in trouble, after all.”

  The man waved his hand. “Do not let it concern you.”

  “Oh, I won’t. Being in trouble rarely concerns me.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” the man said, laughing. “What’s your name?”

  “Jasen,” he said. “Of Grumhul,” he added quickly under his breath.

  “Grumhul? You are far from home.”

  “And thank goodness for that.”

  “Why? I have always thought Grumhul was beautiful.”

  “You’ve been?” Jasen asked, surprised.

  “Not for many years. But I do fly over it from time to time.”

  “What, on a dragon?” Just the thought of it set Jasen’s heart racing. “Really? You do that?”

  The man smiled. “Yes.”

  Jasen put his hand on Tasenred, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath and the smoothness of his scales. He imagined climbing onto his back and soaring across the realms, seeing everything so small beneath him as they went anywhere, everywhere… “Sometimes I almost wish I could become a draed.”

  “And why couldn’t you? You have already passed the first test of the priesthood—a dragon has called you. And you are not yet married.”

  Jasen sighed. “There’s just one problem.”

  “What is that?”

  “I could never take a vow of celibacy.”

  The man laughed long and hard. “I admire your commitment to principle. There are many draeds who do not take that vow seriously.”

  Like you? Jasen almost asked, because Jasen thought he detected a hint of flirtation in his voice. Which wasn’t entirely unwelcome, to be honest, but the last thing he wanted to do was be caught compromising the morals of a draed on his second day here.

  Jasen settled back against the dragon and shut his eyes, enjoying the rise and fall of the dragon’s breath. He could swear he felt his heart beat in sync with that breath, but that really would be insane. It had been ages since anything felt this right.

  “We should get you back,” the man said after a few moments. “They are probably looking for you.”

  Jasen was about to protest when Tasenred did it for him, letting out a long, low grumble.

  “Apologies, Tasenred,” the man murmured to the dragon. “Duty calls, for all of us.”

  The dragon let out a snort and began to move. Jasen and the man both got to their feet. Tasenred turned his head to Jasen once more, blinking his amber eyes. Jasen put a hand on his snout for one last touch. And then the dragon moved. Jasen nearly stumbled as he got out of the way. The man helped steady him. Tasenred only spread his wings when he was well clear of them. A moment later, he was in flight. The wind whipped into Jasen’s eyes, causing them to tear up. At least, he blamed the wind.

  “It is always hard to see them go,” the man said.

  Jasen gave his eyes a quick swipe, feeling a bit embarrassed. “All right. Let’s go find out exactly how much trouble I’ve gotten myself into.”

  They began their hike back down the same path Jasen had come up earlier. The sun had climbed higher in the sky—it was mid-morning by now.

  “Are you cold?” the man asked.

  “No. I’m quite enjoying the weather, actually.”

  “But perhaps you would like to borrow my cloak, all the same.”

  “Why?”

  The man cleared his throat. “You are a bit underdressed for a lord consort.”

  Jasen looked down at his clothes. “Am I supposed to get into full dress every time I want to take a walk? That doesn’t seem sensible.”

  “I’m afraid we are preoccupied with ceremony in the Draelands, to our detriment. For a lord consort to be seen in nothing but a shirt might be considered a bit—” He searched for the right word, “—provocative.”

  “Oh.” Jasen felt his face color a little. He didn’t want to seem as if it bothered him too much, so he added, “I’m not usually provocative by accident.”

  The man raised an eyebrow. “You are sometimes provocative on purpose, then?”

  Jasen gave him a sly grin in response. The man laughed. Their eyes met for a moment.

  Jasen accepted the cloak. “Thank you,” he said, breaking eye contact. He really didn’t need to be flirting with a priest, but as usual, he couldn’t seem to help himself. As he put the cloak over his shoulders, he felt a pulse of heat surge through him. He inhaled sharply.

  “You felt something?” the man asked, surprised.

  “Yes. Something warm…”

  The man gave him a long, considering look. “That is very interesting,” he said finally. “Not everyone can feel it. Are you dragon-blessed?”

  “No.”

  “Even the dragon-blessed don’t always feel the power in a Drae’s cloak,” the man continued. “It usually takes someone of enormous power to connect to it.”

  Jasen looked down at the cloak. He touched the jewel clasp lightly and felt another pulse of heat. “Oh,” he said stupidly, because he couldn’t think of what to say. Power? Him? “Should I take it off?”

  The man shook his head. “No. It suits you.”

  They continued their hike. As they moved, the power Jasen had felt initially faded. He had so many questions about what it all meant, but he wasn’t sure how to articulate them even to himself. “Will he be back?” Jasen asked after a little while. “Tasenred, I mean.”

  The man cocked his head. “He always comes back.”

  “Will it be before I have to leave in three months?”

  “And why are you so sure you will be leaving?”

  Jasen snorted. “Oh yes, I’m sure the king will meet me, fall madly in love, and beg for me to be his consort. Then I’ll spend the rest of my days splitting my time between frolicking about the draemir and lounging in the palace, eating strawberries.”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  “Funny,” Jasen muttered. “That’s exactly what my father said.”

  “You disagree?”

  “I’m sure stranger things have happened, but that doesn’t make my likelihood of marrying a king any greater, does it? And frankly, I’m not sure I find the thought very appealing.”

  “Oh? I doubt your cohorts would share that opinion,” the man said. “Especially this year,” he added under his breath.

  “They can have him.”

  They walked in silence for a little longer. “Have—” the man started to say. He broke off to clear his throat. “Has the king offended you in some manner?”

  “What?”

  “You said you found him unappealing.”

  “Oh, no!” Jasen said, suddenly aware of what that must have sounded like, especially to a draed. The king was also Lord of the Drae, after all, and therefore the head of the priesthood. “He’s a wonderful ruler—I am his loyal and faithful subject, naturally!”

  The man waved his hand. “Yes, yes, but you still would not marry him.”

  “Well, no. I mean—I’m sure he’s a nice person.”

  “Perhaps you think he is ugly.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve only seen him once, from a distance.
He came to Grumhul on his tour of the realms when he was crowned.” Jasen remembered it only vaguely—he’d been only eight years old. He recalled thinking the king looked much too young. He was still a gawky teenager at the time, and he didn’t seem very regal. In fact, he seemed terrified. “Besides,” Jasen continued, “that was a long time ago. I’m sure he looks different now.”

  “Then frolicking in the draemir and eating strawberries does not appeal to you.”

  “Of course it appeals to me.”

  “Then why don’t you want to marry him?”

  “Well, it’s an awful lot of responsibility, isn’t it? I’m not sure I’m up for it.”

  “Why?”

  “I grew up in Grumhul. The journey here has been the most I’ve ever seen of the world. I have no education to speak of, no manners, no experience in anything other than—” He was about to say in bed, but stopped himself. “Well, let’s just say no experience in anything important. I can’t even dress myself properly, apparently.”

  “I do not think any of those things would matter to the king.”

  “The issue is not whether or not I would want to marry him, is it?” Jasen liked the man, but he was starting to feel as if he were having a conversation with his father. “The question is whether he would want to marry me, and I doubt that very much. There hasn’t been a male consort to the Lord of the Drae in over three hundred years. No, I won’t marry a king. I probably won’t even marry a lord. I’m not sure anyone would want me.”

  “That is not true. Anyone with eyes would desire you. Anyone with a heart would want to make you his. And anyone who would dismiss you because you do not conform to meaningless manners and rituals is a fool.”

  Jasen blinked, feeling almost dizzy at the sudden turn in the conversation. Certainly, there had been a few flirtatious moments between the two of them, but that last line had been surprisingly intense. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

  By that point, they had reached the palace grounds again. While Jasen was trying to think of some reply, he heard a shout. He saw several guards coming their way, moving at a swift pace. One of them was Larely. The man leading them was an older man with a bulbous red nose. Behind them trailed a well dressed man with sallow skin and a sour expression.

  “That’s him,” he heard Larely tell the other two.

  When the party reached them, they bowed deeply. “Your Majesty,” the sallow- faced man said.

  There was a split second when Jasen wondered why this man was calling him “your majesty” before the truth clicked. His mouth dropping open in shock.

  The king made a motion for them to rise.

  “I see Your Majesty has found our stray!” the red-nosed man said with forced joviality, but he looked a little frenzied. “I assure you, we are not in the business of losing consorts. I personally see to the safety of all of the consorts under my protection!”

  The king waved his hand. “The fault lies with no one, Captain Ingo. The dragon called to Lord Jasen. I am certain Lady Isalei will understand.”

  The sallow-faced man stepped forward. “But of course, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice much smoother than Jasen would expect from someone who looked like he spent all of his spare time sucking limes. “When a dragon calls, we must be attentive. I imagine that’s why you yourself were unable to attend the meeting of the ministers this morning.”

  “Precisely so,” he replied coolly. “I am sure that you were able to approve the proposed changes in the uniforms of the guards without my guidance, although if you were unable to manage it, we could meet this afternoon.”

  The sallow-faced man either smiled or grimaced—it was hard to tell. “I do not think that it will be necessary, although there are other matters that require your attention.”

  “Of course there are.” The king turned to Jasen. “And now I must return to my duties, and you to yours. I have enjoyed our conversation.”

  Jasen stammered unintelligibly for a few moments, hoping he’d think of something to say, but his mind remained stubbornly blank. He fumbled with the clasp of the cloak. “Your cloak—you’ll want it back—”

  The king placed his hand over Jasen’s, calming his fumbling fingers. “Keep it,” he said with a smile. “You may return it when I see you again.”

  Jasen returned his smile, although it quickly faded when he noticed the way the other men were looking at him. Larely and the captain’s eyes were widened in dumb shock, but the sallow-faced faced man’s were narrowed into slits. He regarded Jasen with the expression of someone who had just found a spider in his bedchamber and was figuring out the best way to squash it.

  Jasen bowed awkwardly. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, trying his best to sound formal.

  A touch of sadness came into the king’s eyes at that. He and the sallow-faced man departed, leaving Jasen with the captain and Larely.

  Once the king had retreated, Captain Ingo turned his gaze to Jasen. He seemed to have recovered from his surprise and now seemed quite nasty. “I see my lord has not been informed of the rules. You are not to leave the building without an escort. Ever. Do you realize how bad I would look if something were to happen to any of you?”

  “Like what?”

  “You could be kidnapped! Don’t you realize what a ransom some rogue could get from snatching up a consort?”

  He tried his best to look contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

  The captain humphed. “Well, Lady Isalei will straighten you out soon enough.” He turned to Larely. “See him back to the East Wing, and make sure he stays there. I have other business to attend to.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They set out their separate ways. When the captain was out of ear shot, Larely grinned at him. “Well, you certainly don’t waste any time, do you?”

  “It isn’t like that! I thought he was a priest!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jasen slapped a hand to his forehead. That didn’t sound any better.

  Larely laughed. “Might I ask why you are wearing the king’s cloak?”

  “I forgot mine,” he mumbled.

  Larely looked at him more closely. “Are you wearing anything under there?”

  “A shirt and trousers, same as I wear when I’m at home,” Jasen said defensively. “No one told me that I had to be dressed up for a simple walk!”

  “Especially when you planned to get dirty.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  Larely gestured to his trousers, which were smudged with dirt. “Your clothes.”

  Jasen’s face grew hot. “Oh.”

  “Some advice—you don’t have to wash behind your ears, but you ought to stay clean where people can see you. Especially people like Minister Adwig.”

  “That man with the horrible face?”

  Larely chuckled. “That would be him. Best to stay out of his way entirely, if possible.”

  That sounded like good advice. Jasen certainly had no desire to see much of him.

  They were now upon the East Wing, but before they got any closer, Larely pulled Jasen to the side of the road, behind a tree. “You should probably take that cloak off.”

  “Why?”

  “If your, ah, competitors see you walk up in the king’s cloak—well, we might as well paint a target on your back.”

  “…Target?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s a vicious crop this year, seeing as the king’s up for grabs. Most of the consorts would give their left buttock to have a private audience with the king. If they catch on that you’ve already managed it, no telling what might happen.”

  Jasen hadn’t even considered that. Numbly, he fumbled with the clasp. He felt a pang of loss as the cloak slipped from his shoulders, but he managed to hand it to Larely.

  Larely undid his own cloak and handed it to Jasen. “Here you are—you can wear mine. But next time you leave your room, make sure you’re fully dressed!”

  Instead of taking the cloak, Jasen leaned up against the tree. He dug the heels of
his hands into his eyes.

  He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. “Here, now,” Larely said, his teasing tone gone. “Are you all right?”

  Jasen removed his hands. “I’m fine,” he said, and tried to mean it. There were too many contradictory emotions running through him. The elation he’d felt with Tasenred had rapidly faded, leaving only embarrassment over his mistakes and confusion as to what his encounter with both the dragon and the king had meant.

  “I might have overstated the danger a bit. They are just young lords and ladies, not throat-cutting assassins. No need to be frightened.”

  “I’m not frightened of them. I’m frightened of my own amazing capacity to make a complete fool of myself.” Jasen gave his temples a vigorous rub. “How did I not know he was the king? He must think I’m an idiot.”

  Larely snorted. “With the way he was looking at you, I don’t think ‘idiot’ was what was going through his head.”

  “That’s almost worse,” Jasen said with a groan. He liked the man well enough, but his kingly station was more than Jasen could handle.

  Larely gave him a puzzled look, but didn’t press him. “Let’s get you inside.” He offered the cloak to Jasen again. This time he put it on. Larely draped the king’s cloak over one arm and gestured ahead of him with the other. Jasen took one last deep breath before marching toward the palace. He forced a sense confidence he didn’t feel. He would walk into the East Wing as if he belonged there. No more mistakes from here on out. He would be proper. He would be well-behaved. And hopefully, the rest would work itself out.

  Chapter 3

  Jasen and Larely entered the East Wing through the servants’ entrance; Larely spirited him up to his room as discreetly as he could manage. Once he was in his room, Jasen discovered that someone had gone through his trunk and hung up all of his clothing. It was probably the work of the valet that Larely had mentioned would be sent to him, but there was no sign of the man.

  A short time later, a young woman arrived with a tray of tea. There were biscuits, fresh fruit, two kinds of cheeses, and slices of thick, flavorful bread. As he ate, he began to relax. There was so much going through his head, but he did his best to mute it.