The corners of his mouth twitched. “How could I ever forget you, Lady Frederica?” His voice was thin and gravelly with disuse, but it was his voice, his melodic Welsh accent.
“You terrified us,” she blurted out.
“My apologies.” This time he did smile. “It was most unintentionally done. And I am beyond honored that the great Rana troubled herself with my case.” He nodded to the figure slumped in the armchair.
“You should be!” Then she remembered her manners, stopping herself just in time from pouring out her thanks. “Rana Akshaya, I honor you for your impressive abilities and the grace you have shown in helping us.”
Even through her veils and the layers of cloth she was wrapped in, it was obvious for the first time that Rana Akshaya was not human. Her knees were bent in at an unnatural angle and her arms foreshortened. Had she exhausted her power working on Roderick, leaving little for her careful masquerade?
“He would not have lived on his own,” Rana Akshaya said flatly. “His blood was not strong enough. I had to go deep into his bones to create new blood.”
Hearing the words made Frederica’s chest tight, even though she had known he was dying. The rest of it was nonsense, though. What did blood have to do with bones? The Indian dragons must have odd ideas of how the human body worked. “Your efforts do you great honor.”
Her eyes kept darting back to Roderick, as if he were a magnet. He was alive!
Rana Akshaya stood. “Lady Frederica Fitzwilliam, I will speak to you outside.” She enunciated the words with unusual care, and it was clearly a command.
And one not addressed to Companion Frederica, as Rana Akshaya had called her ever since her binding to Quickthorn. It must mean something, but what?
“Yes, great Rana.” With one last glance at Roderick, Frederica followed Rana Akshaya from the room and down to the far end of the gallery.
Rana Akshaya swung around to face her. “Lady Frederica Fitzwilliam.”
Definitely significant.
“Yes?”
“I may find myself in need of someone to be my spokesman to your government, to manage negotiations on my behalf. They see dragons asmere animals, and dangerous ones at that, and people from my country are only slightly better. I need someone they will listen to.” Her gaze seemed to bore into Frederica, even through the thick veil.
So there was a price. The Indian dragon clearly saw the British government as her enemy, or at least that of her country. Speaking for her was likely to put Frederica at odds with a great many people, not least of all her father. She would be lucky not to be ostracized by society, much of which was perfectly content with large profits the East India Company brought home.
Still, she was fortunate the price was no higher. “As long as it is not in violation of my companion bond or my oath to the Nest, I will be happy to give you whatever assistance I may.”
“You are cautious. That is good. But I will tell you this: ignorance of your country’s misdeeds is indeed a valid excuse, but once you are no longer ignorant, you become complicit – unless you work to make changes.”
The words hit with force. Was there magic behind them, or was it simply a very unpleasant truth? “You are correct. I would like to see my country change certain of its ways.”
Rana Akshaya nodded curtly. “You will be informed when you are needed.”
“Yes, great Rana.” What else could she say?
The veiled form began to turn away, and then stopped. “One other matter, Companion Frederica. Love is a rare treasure, not to be squandered. Do not allow pride and vanity to starve your soul.”
Frederica took an involuntary step back. What a shocking personal statement from the haughty Indian dragon! How could she possibly answer it? Instead, she bowed her head and made her deepest curtsy, the one she would use to the King himself, as Rana Akshaya walked off.
Was that what she had been doing, putting pride and vanity ahead of love?
It was not a pretty picture.
Frederica’s thoughts swirled as she returned to Roderick’s room. The chair where she had spent the last two days was still beside his bed, and she automatically sat in it without waiting for an invitation.
Her hand felt achingly empty after all that time holding his. She wanted to reach out and take it, but that would be beyond improper, now that he was conscious.
Rowan, in his peregrine falcon form, perched on the footboard of the bed. The dragon spoke in her mind.So there is a price?
I can afford it. Though it would likely cost her a great deal of her social standing. At least that might discourage her most persistent suitor, Mortimer Percy.
Roderick said, “May I beg you to set down this cup for me? I fear I will spill it if I try.” He still held it in both hands.
