He squeezed me tight, knowing just what I needed. “Nor should you. Even aimed at someone other than you, calling a person by their race is almost certainly intended as disrespect. None of us has to accept that.”
Disrespect. Was that what it had been? He hadn’t seemed rude, precisely, just... wrong. And his main point, main concern, had been about Roland and some imagined power I had over him.
Did Roland need to marry, to secure... succession?
I looked up at Bowen. Bowen was ancient, and he knew so many things.
“Does Roland need to marry?” I asked him. “To... to secure the line of succession?”
He considered for a moment. “I don’t know that he needs to marry for that purpose, but I suppose it would be the standard thing for a human to do. Dragons choose their leaders more through which matriarch is the best at leading. Humans tend to pass such things on to their children. I’ve always wondered what happens when they don’t have children. Perhaps he’ll do as dragons do, and choose the best woman in his kingdom to follow him as leader.” He scrunched up his face a little. “Or as Halwyn, and choose a male, though that’s still a little odd to me. I’m just old-fashioned, I suppose.”
Old-fashioned. Maybe that was it. Maybe having to have children was old-fashioned, for humans. Maybe... maybe I needed to learn more, before I went drawing any real conclusions.
7
ROLAND
Bet was at my side in the throne room.
Any moment now, Penrose and Nye would crash into each other and fall to earth, and our world would end.
Bet was never willingly in the throne room while business was being conducted. Perhaps there was the rare occasion he lingered in the shadows to make a point or to discomfort some uptight lord who disliked him, but that morning, he was by my side, standing just beside the throne, twirling a blade so thin and bright it looked more like a needle that a weapon between his long fingers.
Stranger still, Tristram wasn’t there at all.
I could only surmise that Bet had forbade him—not necessarily a play I thought would work, but if Bet thought Tristram were in danger from the envoys, and if Tristram thought Bet were in danger of getting even the slightest bit upset, well, they’d bend for each other at once.
Bet had combed out his dark curls, put something in his hair that made it sleek and well-behaved so that he could tuck it behind his pointed ears and show them off brazenly. He didn’teven seem bored as Lord Forov and I discussed what our nations were willing to offer one another, what might be fair.
He was simply menacing.
We’d been at it for hours, Rhys sitting at a table to the side with stacks of paper piled before him to sketch out our plans as we conversed, when Forov leaned back and met my eye. “As wonderful as this all sounds,” he drawled, “it would expedite matters to have a more... obvious tie between our empire and your... kingdom.”
There was no explicit insult in the words, but oily smile he sent me made me want to throw up my hands and walk away from the whole thing.
Llangard would benefit from stronger trade partners, but our need was greater than that. Beyond our borders, nations hungered for fertile lands, dissuaded by the once-hostile dragon clans in the mountains surrounding us. Now that we were at peace, we were a jewel. My reign was still young—or at least I was—and an ally beyond our borders would strengthen us, especially a naval power like Destovia, who could come to our aid swiftly and help protect our coastline.
I kept telling myself that this was for Llangard while my jaw ached from clenching.
“Such as?” Rhys asked when words failed me. He smiled politely, which was beyond me at the moment.
Lord Forov’s beady eyes lit up. They never once drifted toward Rhys, but stayed locked on me. “A marriage.”
Bet had gone deathly still, the blade in his hands suddenly clutched. My nose flared as I took a slow breath in.
“If I’m not mistaken, you are unattached, Your Majesty,” Forov went on.
Was I? Only in the loosest sense. I’d spoken no vows, but nor had anyone in my kingdom dared trespass on my heart.
“I am not obligated to discuss personal matters during state negotiations, my lord.”
Forov simply smiled. “What I mean is, you have no life mate. No queen.”
My tongue felt large and clumsy in my mouth. My mind spun.
No, I didn’t have a queen, but?—
Aderyn, there in my arms, his pale golden lashes brushing his cheek as he slept. His deep green eyes, and how they brightened when he smiled at me. The way my heart soared every time I saw Bowen’s enormous form on the horizon, knowing he’d be with me soon.
