Caitlin returned to the office with a steaming mug of what Kaylin privately suspected was milk filched from the mess hall. She had to maneuver herself and the milk around Lord Diarmat’s stiff body, because he didn’t appear to notice her.
“Lord Diarmat,” Bellusdeo said sweetly. She bowed.
“Lady Bellusdeo,” he replied far less sweetly. He did, however, also bow. “You are to return, with escort, to the Palace.”
“Oh?”
“The Emperor is concerned; he feels it likely that you were the target of the attempted assassination.”
Kaylin was relieved for just as long as it took her to remember that even if Bellusdeo weren’t here, she would still have no privacy because she didn’t have a home.
“However, since Private Neya is also somewhat unusual, he considers it not impossible that she was the target and you would merely have been collateral damage.” The Imperial Dragon turned to the Hawklord. “Lord Grammayre.”
“Lord Diarmat.” The Hawklord bowed; the Dragon didn’t. Kaylin watched, memorizing the details of the Hawklord’s bow and hating the fact that it was necessary. “You are prepared?”
“I am. I have a dozen of my own men waiting; three of the mages of the Imperial Order are also in position. Lord Emmerian will meet us there.”
Kaylin shook her head. Caitlin brought the milk and set it carefully on the edge of Marcus’s desk. “Do you think you can hold your little friend in one hand?”
Kaylin nodded but didn’t move. “Teela, what is he talking about? He’s not here to take Bellusdeo to the Palace?”
“No,” she replied.
“That is correct. I am here on more martial, but not more necessary, business. Lord Sanabalis, however, is waiting in an Imperial Carriage in the yard. He will be your escort. Lady Bellusdeo, should there be any threat of magic or physical attack, the Emperor will excuse any transformation you deem necessary.”
Bellusdeo said nothing at all—and given her expression, which was glacial, that was a good thing.
Chapter 3
“Does this mean that we’re off the lesson hook?” Kaylin asked Bellusdeo as they walked to the yard. They were shadowed by Clint, whose wings still hadn’t come down and whose eyes were still blue. She particularly hated to see Clint’s eyes go blue, because, among other things, he had the laugh she loved best in the entire department, and when his eyes were that color, there was no chance of hearing it.
“I have no idea. Given the time, and given Lord Diarmat’s current disposition, I would guess that we are, indeed, excused from a few hours of his pompous and unfortunate cultural babble.”
Clint actually choked slightly, and his eyes did clear a bit. Lord Diarmat was the captain, and therefore commander, of the Imperial Guard, and the Imperial Guard wasn’t generally beloved by the Halls of Law; the Imperial Guard had a very high opinion of themselves and a less than respectful opinion of anyone else in a uniform who also served at the Emperor’s command.
The small dragon was now sitting half in her hand; the other half extended up her arm so that his neck could more or less rest against it.
“I wish that creature could make himself invisible,” Bellusdeo said quietly.
“Why?”
“Because I worry about the attention he’ll attract.”
“Could it be any worse than an Arcane bomb that destroys his entire home?”
“Oh, I don’t think his life—if it even is a he—is in any danger. I think yours, on the other hand—”
“Let’s pretend I just repeated that question.”
Bellusdeo lifted a brow and then just shook her head. “Do you honestly think that the bomb was meant for you?”
“Does it matter? If it was meant for you, it still destroyed my home and everything in it that wasn’t attached to something breathing.” She took a deep breath, expelled it, and shook her head. “Sorry. You don’t deserve that.”
“You’re certain?”
“No. I was trying to be polite. If someone’s trying to kill you—” which, in Kaylin’s opinion, was the most likely option “—it’s probably not fun for you, either. But that’s been my home since I crossed the bridge from the fiefs. Caitlin helped me find it. Caitlin let me choose it. It’s the only place I’ve ever been certain was mine.”
“…And if someone was trying to kill me, it’s indirectly my fault that it’s gone?”
“You’re sure you’re not a Tha’alani in disguise?”
“Relatively.”
Kaylin muttered a few Leontine words and wished she could just sew her own mouth shut for the next hour or two. Because part of her did feel exactly that, and she wasn’t proud of it. She just couldn’t figure out how to squelch it. It would be different if she’d begged Bellusdeo to live with her; she hadn’t. She’d practically done the opposite. And if Bellusdeo had been living in Tiamaris or the Imperial Palace—which had been Kaylin’s first and second choices—Kaylin would still have a home.
The small dragon sank claws into her arm and dragged itself up to her shoulder, where it perched to bite her ear. She cursed in louder Leontine and then swiveled her neck to glare. The opal eyes of the small creature regarded her, unblinking, for a long moment.
“I guess I deserved that,” she said in a quiet voice as some of the tension began to leave her jaw and neck.
“Why?” Bellusdeo asked in the same cool, practical voice.
“Because if you’re right—and given my luck, you probably are—he’s trying to tell me that he wouldn’t have hatched at all if someone with a crapload of magical power hadn’t been trying to kill you.”
* * *
Sanabalis was enraged. If he’d opened his mouth and foot-long fangs had sprouted, it would have looked completely natural. Kaylin, who’d been following on Bellusdeo’s heels, almost backed out of the carriage. She managed not to, but only barely. “I—I have another place to stay,” she began.
“Get. In.”
She did. To Kaylin’s surprise, given his mood, Sanabalis did not slam the carriage door.
They traveled halfway to the Palace in silence. Sanabalis broke it, because he was the only one who dared—or cared to; Bellusdeo didn’t seem overly concerned with his mood. “What is sitting on your shoulder?”
“The—the hatchling,” Kaylin replied, managing to stop the words small dragon from leaving her mouth.
“Hatchling?”
“I— Yes. From an egg.”
He raised a brow, and the color of his eyes began to brighten into a much safer orange. On the usual bad day, orange wasn’t a safe color; funny how context was everything. “Generally the word hatch implies egg. What egg?”
“I don’t suppose we can wait until we get to the Palace? The Arkon’s going to ask the same questions.”
A white brow rose as Sanabalis snorted smoke into the enclosed space.
* * *
When the carriage pulled into the Imperial drive, the road was swarming with guards. This was impressive, because Diarmat implied he’d taken a few dozen with him; she wondered if any of the Imperial Guard was off duty tonight. More impressive, for a value of impressive Kaylin often found annoying, were the half-dozen older men in the robes of the Imperial Order of Mages. If they resented being dragooned into guard duty, they very carefully kept