“Would you and your guest care for any wine, Your Majesty?” she asked.
King Rianvar pulled out a heavy armchair for me, then swept my coat off. “What would you like?”
“White wine, please,” I said.
He nodded at the woman, and she went to open a bottle.
Turning in a circle, I said, “This is beautiful.”
“I'm glad you like it.” The King laid his hands on my shoulders. “May I remove your . . .”
“Wing scarf?” I asked and looked over my shoulder at him. “Yes, I think it's warm enough in here.”
King Rianvar tugged at the ends of the scarf. Once they were freed of my lapels, he drew his hands down my back, pulling the scarf along. Carefully, he unsheathed each pair of wings and removed the scarf. His breath hitched. I could feel the warmth of his hand just above the membranes of my left set of wings. They fluttered with my nervousness.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “No, Your Majesty.”
The King gave me a sheepish look. “They're so tantalizing.” Leaning in, he whispered in my ear, “As is the rest of you.”
I stepped into place before the chair he'd pulled out and waited for him to push it in for me as I sat down. Once I was settled, the Dragon King moved toward his seat, but his steps faltered when he caught the coquettish side look I gave him. I looked away, holding back my smile, and said nothing. The woman was pouring our wine by then, and the words that sprang to mind were not appropriate for her ears. They weren't appropriate at all. So I was grateful for her presence.
“The chef is offering a special tasting menu for you, Your Majesty,” the woman said after our glasses were full. “Would you care to try that or would you like to see a menu?”
The King looked at me. “Are you feeling adventurous, Galin?”
“Yes, I think that sounds fun.”
“We'll take the tasting menu,” he said to the woman.
“Very good, Your Majesty. The chef will be so pleased.” She bowed and left the glass room.
I looked up as the door closed behind her. Neither the lights among the plants nor that of the candles competed with the stars. They sparkled within the indigo embrace of the night sky. So lovely. As I gazed upon them, something fluttered down onto the glass and melted.
“Snow!” I exclaimed, sitting forward.
The Dragon King looked up and smiled. “The first snow.”
“Yes.” I looked down at him. “The first snow of the season.”
“I meant it'sourfirst snow. Together. The first of many if I have anything to do with it.”
With my breath lodged in my throat, I couldn't form a response immediately. But once I could breathe again, I said, “If you have anything to do with it? Are you going to freeze the sky for me?”
The Dragon King's pale eyes glittered. “If that's what it takes to win you, my little inventor.”
Chapter Eight
That meal was the most magical of my life. And not just because of the setting. King Rianvar became Rian by the end of it, and he convinced me to rethink my opinion of Dragon Kings. We held hands on the ride back to my shop, and then the King escorted me to my door. I let him in and closed the door behind us, but only so we could say goodbye without the cold getting in.
I suppose it was yet another test when I kissed him chastely on the cheek and said goodnight.
Rian grinned as if he knew he was being tested. He didn't push for more, but he did slide a hand along my braid, and ask, “Will you wear your hair down next time?”
In my mind, I heard Rontor's voice,“You will wear your hair loose when you come to me.”
“It's your choice, of course,” he hurried to say as he withdrew his hand.
I blinked, coming out of the past. “No, I . . . I'm sorry, my mind wandered.” I pasted on a teasing smile and said, “I may wear my hair loose if you ask me on a second date. But you haven't yet.”
