Page 53 of Connor and the Dragons

Oallian’s fitting was more chaotic. He kept ducking out from behind the screen before they finished buckling him, to show us. The final rig was black leather and silver hardware, straps crossing his chest and framing everything they didn’t cover, which was most of him, and he examined himself in the tall mirror with open delight.

“Does this come in less?” he asked the proprietor.

“Less, sir?”

“Less fabric. I don’t want to be too covered.”

“That is our least-fabric model, sir. The fabric is only covering your cock, and barely covering it at that.”

I met Kessrin’s eyes, trying to hold back a smile, the struggle becoming ten times harder as I saw his lips twitch. A master ordering his pet’s kit did not stand in a shop grinning like a man who won something.

“It’s perfect,” I said. “I like his muscles on display.”

Oallian preened, flexing his shoulders and beaming at me over his shoulder, and I had to work to keep the grin off my face.

“Very well, make the adjustments, and we will be back in two days,” I said. “And perhaps a similar outfit in light blue for my consort?”

“Oh yes, that would look quite lovely on him,” the tailor said, eyes wide at the thought of such a large commission.

As I paid for our order, Kessrin’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t speak. This was our budget, we were expected to spend it.

Oallian bounced to my side as Kessrin changed out of his cloak, which needed only minor tailoring to be perfect. “Can I keep this on? It makes me feel quite handsome, Sir,” he said.

“Put trousers over it, at the very least,” I said, shaking my head.

Oallian complied, looking just a little like a kicked puppy. But he’d recovered by the time we left the shop, and we walked back to the inn with his chest puffed out with pride, and Kessrin tucked against his side, nervous and feeding off of his warmth. I had to remind myself at least twice that this was not home, these men were not mine, and it couldn’t be anything lasting.

I had to get back to San Jose, finish my degree, argue with my dad about whether or not Sky and I should help out at the family tai chi studio when Sky just-so-happened to be bonded for life to an intimidating-looking troll who lived in a magical realm.

What even was my life?

We met up with Sky back at the lodging house, and he and Moerrven and the cat all piled into our room with several parcels full of delicious food. Sky raved the whole time about a troll shop he had found that sold the delicate, flaky, vegetarian hand pies that were a trollish staple and his new comfort food. While we reviewed the plan, I showed Moerrven on a map where we had stashed the baskets.

“Do you think you’ll draw attention, leaving like this?” Kessrin asked, nibbling delicately on a hand pie, then looking around quickly before taking a larger bite.

“I think we should leave as soon as possible,” Sky said. “The party isn’t for another few days, so hopefully no one will connect anything.”

Moerrven nodded. “And I’ve been telling people that I’m doing a walking tour to explore the countryside where I plan to set my novel.”

“If it goes wrong, Oallian and Kessrin, you need to leave without me,” I said. “Get to Sky and Moerrven and get home. I’ll slip out and find my way back.”

Kessrin went very still. “But we can’t—”

“You can’t let yourself be captured,” I said. “You’ve said it more than once. So you fly. Both of you. You don’t fight, you don’t stay, you don’t get clever.”

“After picking you up, right, Sir?”

“Only if I’m right there,” I said.

Then it stopped being a plan and went back to being dinner, and somewhere in the middle of the hand pies I had a thought about the way the Harrowgate ledger numbered its entries. I pulled a clean sheet toward me and started laying the columns out, because if I did not do it right then I would lose it.

“Oh no,” Sky said.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He turned to Kessrin, delighted. “He’s doing the thing.”

“I’m not doing a thing.”