“And now, it sounds good and I hate that. Badly.” Varis heaved a sigh and lifted his head with a deep breath. “And this is what I get for being pregnant.”
Ghreid wanted to correct him, to tell him he wasgravid. He carried, not gestated. In his belly lay the vessels, not the flesh. Words didn’t come, only a confused gasp from the doorway. Rydel, burying a sideways smirk, escorted himself out as Mykel and Finem stood dumbfounded in the doorway.
Finem spoke first. “Truly?”
Varis heaved a broken growl of frustration. “This Graylan person needs to confirm this for me as soon as possible because I have a feeling this is going to be a lot less glamorous than I imagined.”
“Asha could have told you that,” Ghreid said, a laugh bubbling in his chest.
“He told me—” Varis glanced at his fathers and cleared his throat. “Things.”
“Asha did have a rather comfortable nesting. But Graylan will be here soon. I promise.” Ghreid excused himself with a polite bow and made his way to the kitchens. He needed to ask for more fish to be served.
Fish for their two little fish to be born, dragons with penchants for water. Perhaps they did not need to be named in kind. Maybe the fates would speak otherwise.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Varis
Fish had been a staple of his diet for so long that he’d sworn he’d never have a bite of it again, and there he was, catching a scent of it delicately roasting in an oven, lemon and pepper wafting past him, and every nerve in his body told him to enjoy the gift.
What fucking gift? Vile, flaky mush meat! No! I refuse.Varis sulked internally, doing his best to keep his face neutral as his mate and brother-in-law spoke of the old days, remembering their father and mother fondly until food was served, and Varis, presented with the option of having lamb or fish, chose both. Both was good, right?
Ghreid and Draenvir ate together, leaning close to one another while Varis’s fathers squirmed in their seats, practically vibrating with questions. Varis knew the barrage of questions to come would eventually explode the moment Graylan arrived to give his verdict and prove what Varis already knew. And despite the lack of Graylan’s verification, Ghreid reached over to Varis periodically to touch his side, his belly, his thigh, as if he could discern something or bring comfort.
Still, Varis wasn’t certain how he should react, how he should celebrate or mourn, or what. And the boring eyes of his fathers was second only to the burning questions he had of his own.
Dessert came and went, and they retired soon after, taking to the solar while Ghreid and Draenvir tried to occupy their uneasy minds with plans for a future in the independent Saurian ports. Draenvir was remarkably well suited toward infrastructure as well, and having him there brought another kind of ease to Ghreid that Varis loved to see. They were brotherscloser than Varis had ever been with any of his. The fact occurred to him he hadn’t asked about any of them, and he turned his head toward his fathers. “How are Tikum and Lyf?”
Finem, Varis’s father, his Apa, blinked in surprise. “Tikum was married last year to a Rammolian girl, and they took an inheritance of a trading vessel north. Last letter I received from him said they were prospering and no children of yet. Lyf…”
Varis pursed his lips as his father trailed off. Lyf had been a freewheeler, undedicated to anything and lacking aspirations. And because of the agreements they’d made with the family, their daughters, Varis’s sisters, were shipped off as they were born, four of them. Varis only knew one of their names, but they belonged to the second Rashiz as bargaining chips in their hierarchy. Much like ashen in Monsmount and Rammolia, daughters of the Rashiz were prized for their fair features and noble blood, given only in marriage after years of etiquette, training, and approval. Marriages were arranged, but not forced. Those who didn’t find an acceptable partner were given to the temple to live as they saw fit. The world wasn’t black and white, but still. Varis didn’t feel entitled to ask of them until that moment.
“Father, were any of my other siblings ashen, like me?” Varis glanced at his father.
“No. After you, all our children were checked. There are others, though. If we end this, we’ll send them to Sauria for a negotiated rate.” Apa rested a hand on Nen’s arm.
“Far less than what was asked of you. You were…special.” Mykel cleared his throat. “I think they’re asking for six daven each.”
“The price of two cows… What a commoner’s life is worth.” Varis shook his head. “Plus transportation, I assume. How many at the time?”
“A passenger ship for the first. We have over a dozen I know of, isn’t that right, Mykel?” Apa glanced toward Nen who nodded.
“I promise you we didn’t come with our hands outstretched for money alone.” Nen didn’t look as if he believed his own words. “It’s merely how things are. Your new world has a need, and Finem’s new regime will fill it. The sacrifices can be in gold.”
“Gold is a powerful thing to dragons.” Ghreid spoke up, interrupting their conversation. “We part from it so easily. But thetypeof gold… You’re avoiding something.”
“With your parents’ passing, I feel terrible to mention—” Apa fell back in his chair and sighed so heavily, he almost deflated, like one of those seabirds settling their feathers. “Living gold.”
“Six daven of living gold?” Draenvir sneered.
“We’re not… Living gold is useful for a dragon, but gold at its final fading—that’s when the priests can use it. The last flecks of magic left in it.” Nen clasped his hands.
“Spent gold. Right before it dies.” Ghreid glanced over at Draenvir, and they shrugged at one another. “We do decommission it rather than let it spend its last. We could part with it.”
“May cause some problems… But for the ashen.” Draenvir rubbed at his chin. “Let’s make it religious.”
Ghreid raised a brow. “Explain.”
