He raised his eyebrow. “May I help you?” he asked.
“I hope so.” She stepped forward and made her way to the front of his desk. “I have a rather impertinent question, my lord, and I’m hoping that you will help me with it.”
Alexander’s eyebrow couldn’t get any higher. He waited for her to begin.
“Do you know what caused the fire?” she asked.
Alexander didn’t say anything. When he continued to remain silent, Guinevere nodded. “I see. And do you by any chance know of a magic spell that prevents people from saying things?” she asked.
Alexander’s heart began to beat faster.
Guinevere knew about the spell.
He didn’t say anything, merely leaned back in his chair.
Guinevere let out a huff. “And one more question, my lord: are you deceiving your wife as to the reason why you needed a hasty marriage? If you’ll forgive my impertinence.”
Alexander frowned at her but still didn’t say anything.
“Well,” Guinevere said, “I was afraid of that.” She frowned back at him before adding, “You are still capable of speech, right? You haven’t gone mute?”
Alexander shook his head. “I have not gone mute,” he said.
The fact that she had so quickly realized something was amiss was both concerning and heartening. Perhaps she would be able to help his wife figure out what had happened. “I don’t suppose you are able to give me any other details?” Guinevere asked.
He shook his head.
Guinevere sighed. “You know, I’m not a miracle worker,” she said. “Plants are one thing, but secrets and curses are another thing entirely.”
Alexander shook his head. “What do you mean, ‘plants are one thing?’” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “Surely you’ve noticed that the plants in your gardens and greenhouse are always far better off than they should be,” she said. “Even the best gardeners should not be able to keep roses in bloom for this long.”
Alexander thought back to the day he had found Rose under the bush. “I assumed that it was a dragon,” he said offhandedly.
Guinevere’s eyes widened. “You’ve seen a dragon?” she asked.
Rose appeared from underneath his desk and let out a meow. Guinevere narrowed her eyes at the kitten. “And just where do you think you’re going with that attitude?” she said, addressing Rose.
Alexander didn’t know what to say to that. “You can understand her?”
“Of course I can,” Guinevere said. “It’s one of my specialties. Although they don’t usually speak quite so plainly, which leads me to assume that this is not, in fact, an ordinary kitten.”
Alexander watched as Rose transformed from her kitten self to the young dragon that she really was.
Guinevere’s eyes widened. “I was not expecting that one,” she admitted, staring down at the dragon. “Hello,” she said, bowing slightly to the young dragon. “I am Guinevere.”
Rose let out a series of chirps and squawks that sounded far more like a chicken than the kitten noises she usually made. “You can really understand her?” Alexander asked, looking between Guinevere and his pet.
“Of course,” Guinevere said. “She’s telling me how you found her under the rose bushes, which would make sense if you assumed that the roses were the result of a dragon. She may have helped, but no, the roses are my handiwork.”
Rose let out a puff of air and turned her back on them, making her way to a patch of sunlight on the floor and curling up in it.
Alexander took a deep breath. “I don’t suppose you know anything about—?”
His mouth closed of its own accord, and he sighed.
Guinevere shook her head.
