Page 27 of Morel Dilemma

But Devra spoke first. “I don’t care how much money the Avandars have or how great the estate is or how much influence your family has. As I told my husband, Lord Avandar doesn’t have any right to order respectable self-made businessmen in the city to do his bidding.”

Rylana lowered her hand. Was it possible this had to do with the eviction Aztor had threatened?

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. Lord Avandar went personally to my husband’s office to demand he order the tenants in one of his prized assets near the waterfront to break their lease and leave. He didn’t explain anything, just said he would pay market rate for the lost income. When my husband said he wouldn’t force his tenants out, Lord Avandar had a big orc thug accompanying him get pushy, implying it wouldn’t be financially wise for Aztor to go against the Avandar family. I’m surprised he didn’t send you, the former mercenary, to hold a knife to his throat.”

“I have been known to engage in such activities.” Irritated with the woman—both women—and her father’s meddling as well, Rylana lowered a hand to her waist where she usually carried her utility knife. Too bad the dress tie hadn’t been a sturdy enough belt to hang a sheath from. She growled, wishing she had the blade so she could bare it, if only to send the women scurrying away.

Maybe her body language and growl were menacing enough on their own because they skittered back of their own accord. Or had Zilek done something? Rylana looked at him to check, but he wore an amused expression as he gripped his chin with his hand and observed.

“Such a savage,” Evalla whispered to Devra.

“That whole family isn’t what it was during Aranak Avandar’s reign.”

Rylana was tempted to explain that she’d had nothing to do with the threat. She was one of the tenants, after all. But the women backed farther away, sending wary glances in her direction.

She lowered her hand and huffed. Though it might have come out as another growl. Was she spending too much time around dragons?

Zilek chuckled. “Their kind are easily cowed, aren’t they?”

“I suppose.” Rylana hadn’t wanted to cow anyone, just get answers. At least she’d done that, though what was she supposed to do now? Why did Father want her and Jildarin kicked out of the building where they ran the diner? So she would be forced to go work for him? That was the only potential reason that came to mind.

“Not like female dragons, who would have tried to bite your head off. Though you’re fearless when you face them as well, aren’t you?” Zilek’s eyes crinkled. “Jildarin told me all about it. Given his regard for you, it is a little surprising that he hasn’t done more than allow you into his lair.”

“He’s focused on his cooking.”

“At night? In his lair?”

Rylana gave him an exasperated look. He only smiled. Too bad her original plan of arriving before Zilek hadn’t come to fruition. Who could have known that he would show up at the diner to pick her up?

As more guests entered the cellar, Jildarin extricated himself from his admirers and walked over to join Rylana and Zilek. At the bar, the sommelier was setting out stemware and lining up some of the choice wines that people had brought. A server started bringing around small tasting glasses of a sparkling white.

“You have already learned what you sought?” Jildarin angled himself to stand between Rylana and Zilek, using his shoulder to bump his brother to the side. Not appearing offended, Zilek accepted a glass from a server and smiled into it as he sipped.

“More through luck, and a childhood history of pantslessness, than through skill, but yes.”

She expected to have to explain that, but Jildarin nodded. “Dragons, too, enjoy gyrating in the air and swimming about in lakes. It is most refreshing during warm weather.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Rylana had long ago learned that dragons had keen hearing and wasn’t surprised he’d caught the conversation. It wasn’t as if the women had been keeping their voices down.

She decided to be more pleased than offended by Jildarin’s attention. Some men might have been too distracted—and enthralled—by being surrounded by attractive doting women to keep an eye on their original companion.

“Monitoring you after the threatening females approached, yes,” Jildarin said. “I am certain you would dominate if you were to engage in a physical confrontation with them, but, as you are well aware, there are repercussions for partaking in violence in this city.” He touched his own chest, maybe thinking of the peacekeepers fining him for turning into a dragon in front of his diner.

“Yes, we’ve both run afoul of Tranquility’s rigid stance on peace, of late,” she said.

“Indeed.” Jildarin eyed his brother. “I also sought to ensure Zilek did not try to lure you into one of the hidden dens back there to foist an undesired mating session upon you.”

“Really, my brother,” Zilek said. “Never have I had to foist, force, or otherwise inflict a mating session on a female of any species. Most desire me and are eager for my attention. Should, however, one have poor judgment and puzzling taste and not wish to engage, I would respect her choice. Just as one must respect the choices of female dragons.”

“Unless one wants one’s head bitten off, certainly,” Jildarin said.

“It was my tail that Lushina-varlevook nearly dismembered during a misunderstanding in our youth, but quite. Also, those are wine cellars, not dens. They’re magically climate controlled, with the rare and temperamental vintages being stored within.”

“I am certain their intended use would not keep you from secreting a female into one and firmly shutting the door behind you.”

“Perhaps not.” Zilek smiled thoughtfully toward the dimly lit entrances of the cellars. “I do not believe I could attract a beautiful and cultured elf of exquisite bloodlines into such a subterranean space.”