Consorting with Dragons

by Sera Trevor

  “Of course you haven’t. You’re young.” She cleared her throat. “Now, then, let us get back to the matter at hand. You love Rilvor, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Jasen said quietly. “But what if it isn’t enough? The fate of the Allied Realms rests on the strength of his love for me, doesn’t it?”

  Quendra sighed. “You really are young, aren’t you? The Allied Realms existed long before you were born, and will exist long after you’re dead.”

  “Right. And if something in our marriage goes wrong, that death will come sooner rather than later!”

  Quendra furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

  “Isn’t that what happened to you?”

  “I became ill. It happens.”

  “But Rilvor said—”

  “Rilvor is very fond of responsibility. It’s a fine trait in a king, but he can be overzealous as to what he takes responsibility for. Perhaps our imperfect marriage did lead to my death. Perhaps it didn’t.”

  “You don’t know?”

  She smiled wryly. “The afterlife doesn’t offer many answers, unfortunately.”

  “But the magic of the realm weakened because you two were not—well, compatible. Or is that untrue, too?”

  “That’s true, but what of it? Rilvor will die one day. Perhaps my son will have better luck and magic will recover.”

  Jasen frowned. “I don’t understand why you’ve brought me here if the fate of the Allied Realms isn’t at stake.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And the fate of my children and my husband are not important?”

  Jasen snapped his mouth shut.

  She touched his arm. “I’m not saying that your position is not unique. Being joined with the Lord of the Drae is a strain, and yes, magic will depend on you. It isn’t an easy life. But your life will pass, as all things must. What I’m trying to say is that the world is much bigger than you.” She gestured to the landscape. “Look again. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? But nothing is perfect. Beauty does not require perfection. Neither does love. The dragons understand this better than humans do. They have felt the love in your heart, and that is what is important to them—not the pedigree of your family or the kingdom of your birth.”

  Jasen scoffed. “Try telling that to the ministers.”

  “That’s a splendid idea. Why don’t you?”

  “They wouldn’t listen.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Jasen opened his mouth to reply and shut it again. “I suppose I can’t,” he admitted sheepishly.

  “Then it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

  “And what if they still oppose me? What if Rilvor defies them and it sets off a political crisis? What if he grows to resent me because I caused all that strife? What if—”

  “You want reassurances from me,” she interrupted. “But I can’t give them to you. I can’t see the future. But I can tell you that you will regret living your life in fear.”

  Jasen held his head in his hands. “I need more time.”

  “That, alas, I can’t give you, either. You must make up your mind, Jasen. Life is fleeting. You cannot wait forever.”

  A dragon circled overhead and dipped down, passing close to them. “Are these dragons dead, too?”

  “Dragons can travel in the spaces in dreams and the afterlife in the same way as they move in the waking world. Life and death are a little different for them than they are for us. It isn’t quite as final.”

  “What do they want? Tasenred called me when I first came to the Draelands. Queen Urga thinks that he was trying to get Grumhul under dragon control by using me, just as she thinks they tried to use her.”

  “Queen Urga makes the same mistake many humans do. They ascribe human motivations to the dragons. The dragons don’t care about control.”

  “Then why did they intervene in Westrona?”

  “The dragons are more in tune with human hearts than humans are themselves. When humans and dragons first connected, the humans gave dragons the gift of knowing themselves in a way other beasts never can. They are eternally grateful and want only for humans to be happy. They are perplexed by human tendency to bring misery upon themselves and try to intervene where they think they can. That’s why they call humans to their service—they know they can never truly understand the complexity of human society, so they seek humans to act for them.”

  “Is that why they called me? Because they knew I would make Rilvor happy?”

  “I believe so. I was blessed, but never called. The dragons accepted our marriage well enough, but I think we confused them. They aren’t match makers in general, but since humans got it so hopelessly wrong the first time, they might have felt the need to intervene more directly.” She squeezed his hand. “I agree with them. I think the two of you are a good match. You have a good heart, Jasen. That’s what he needs, and what my children need.”

  She stood. Jasen got to his feet as well. “Call to the dragons, when you are ready,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “You have their support, and mine. And if that is not enough, there is nothing more I can do for you.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. With a push of her foot, she launched herself off of the mountain top and floated onto the back of the dragon. She waved good-bye—

  —and Jasen’s eyes flew open. He sat up, breathing heavily as he looked around. He was in his bed, safe and sound, although his thoughts still felt slow and dreamy. He got out of bed and opened the window shutters. The sun was creeping up over the horizon, banishing the darkness of night.

  He watched until the sun was fully risen. As the morning began in earnest, the fog of Jasen’s dream faded. The light here was harsher than it had been in the dream world. His body was heavier. The ground beneath his feet was hard and cold. And the breeze coming off the swamp was chilly, and didn’t smell very good, either.

  It wasn’t perfect. But it was life.

  He shut the window and went to get dressed. After picking out something sensible and comfortable, he donned the Drae’s cloak. He had made his decision.

  Chapter 18

  “You’re going to regret this,” Urga said as they boarded the small rowboat.

  “Maybe,” Jasen agreed.

  “I’m going to regret this,” she added under her breath. “But a promise is a promise. Take us out.”

  Jasen began to row, and soon they were making their way across the swamp. After some time, they reached the small island that was just out of sight of the castle. They landed the boat and got out.

  “How near is that dragon of yours?” Urga asked.

  Jasen put his hand to his throat, feeling the jewel. It was warm. “Close, I think.” He’d been calling out to him ever since he had awoken.

  “He’d better be.” Urga crossed her arms and scowled. “I don’t plan on waiting around on this island forever!”

  “Thank you again for doing this,” Jasen said. “I know you don’t agree with my decision, but it means a lot to me that you’re supporting me anyway.”

  “Well, what was I to do? Order you to stay? You’re Grummish, and in Grumhul, unlike some other kingdoms I could mention, our citizens have the right to make whatever decision they please, no matter how stupid.” She softened a little. “And remember that there’s always a place for you here. I won’t even say I told you so.”

  Jasen tried not to laugh. “I appreciate it. Truly.”

  Jasen felt a flutter in his chest. A moment later, the sky darkened. Tasenred had arrived, and was circling above them.

  Urga cracked her fingers. “Now it’s been quite some time since I’ve called upon my blessing at all, so I’m not making any promises. If this doesn’t work, you’ll have to get yourself to a proper draemir.” Urga sucked in a breath and raised her hands. The waters of the swamp parted. She moved her hands slowly outward, parting the water further, until there was enough room for Tasenred to land.

  As soon as the dragon landed, Jasen ran up to him. Tasenred lowered his head in greetin
g. “Thank you for coming for me,” Jasen said, placing his hand on the dragon’s snout.

  “You can talk with the damned beast later!” Urga shouted. “Get on—I can’t hold this forever!”

  Jasen did as she said and soon they were flying through the air. He waved to the queen but wasn’t sure if she saw him. He resisted the urge to look back again.

  It was hard to think of much when riding on the back of the dragon—the experience overwhelmed the senses. It was only when the Draelands came in sight that Jasen’s nerves started to act up again. He had no idea what was going to happen.

  He wasn’t surprised to find Rilvor waiting for him in the draemir—he was the Lord of the Drae, after all. Rilvor swept him into his arms the moment he slid off Tasenred’s back.

  “Your answer,” Rilvor said breathlessly. “Please tell me it is yes.”

  In response, Jasen threw his arms around Rilvor’s neck and gave him a kiss, which led to another, and another. When at last they pulled away from each other, Jasen asked, “So what happens now?”

  “Right now? We get you back to the palace and let you rest. We can make plans for tomorrow.”

  Jasen shook his head. “I would prefer to get answers now. I’m not sure how much more my nerves can take.”

  Rilvor kissed his forehead. “As you wish. I will call for an immediate meeting with the ministers.”

  “Is Adwig still among them? Polina and Risyda told me what happened.”

  “Unfortunately, he is. I believe your friend, but her accusations are unsubstantiated. He has cast doubt upon her testimony, dismissing her as embittered and seeking revenge because he told her she wasn’t suited to be queen consort. I have put out a search for the person who put the enchantment on the shoes, but have been unable to find them. Until I have another witness, I don’t want to move against him.”

  “It’s just as well. I want to face him—get everything out in the open.”

  Rilvor raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

  “I can’t marry you pretending to be someone I’m not, and I won’t spend my life in fear of blackmail and gossip. If I’m to be king consort, it will be as myself, warts and all.”

  “Well put. I completely agree.”

  Jasen kissed him again. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Rilvor had guards waiting for them at the edge of the draemir to escort them back to his chambers, but even so, word of Jasen’s return had already spread. It seemed as if everyone in the palace had arrived to gawk at him. To Jasen’s surprise, he found it didn’t matter that much to him. Quendra had been right about perspective.

  As soon as Jasen stepped foot into the royal chambers, he was tackled by Rilvor’s children. “I knew you would come back!” Erada said happily. “Papa wasn’t sure, but I knew you wouldn’t just leave us.”

  Jasen smiled. “You’re very clever—much cleverer than me or your papa.”

  Erada beamed. Ados, however, looked more serious. “I wish you luck with the council,” he said. “I would be happy to testify as to your good character.”

  Rilvor put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, son, but I do not think that will be necessary.”

  The children’s governess gathered them up and took them away. Once they had left, Jasen noticed someone lingering in the doorway to the king’s inner chamber. Rilvor motioned to him. “You can come out now.”

  Jasen was shocked to see that it was Larely, who gave him a shy wave. In a few swift steps, Jasen crossed the room to clasp his hand and pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you! I thought you were with your family.”

  “Well, the king came and found me. Can’t very well ignore the summons of the king, can I?”

  “I brought him here to testify on your behalf, if you decided to accept my proposal,” Rilvor said. “I wanted to keep his presence a secret, so he has been staying in my chambers.”

  “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused,” Larely said. “It’s the least I can do to come help clear the air.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Jasen said. “But aren’t you worried about being exposed? Your true identity is sure to come up.”

  Larely waved a hand dismissively. “The crimes of my family aren’t my crimes—the king knows that. And I don’t plan on staying in the Draelands anyway, so it isn’t as if it will hurt my opportunities.” He cleared his throat. “In fact, the new Prosider of Westrona has asked me to be on her council, at the recommendation of King Rilvor.”

  “My recommendation was only part of it,” Rilvor said. “Your efforts to make an honest life for yourself despite your family’s history is admirable. The Prosider and I both agree that your family background makes you ideal to help her mend the rifts in Westronan society.”

  Jasen patted Larely on the back. “Congratulations! I’m sure you’ll do well.”

  “There will be time for you to catch up later,” Rilvor said. “But for now, I must ask Larely to come with me to prepare for his testimony. I will send Rotheld to help in your own preparations.”

  Shortly after Rilvor left, servants came with some refreshments for Jasen. And soon after that, Rotheld arrived. “My lord,” he said with a bow.

  Jasen grinned. “It’s good to see you, Rotheld.”

  “I am pleased to see you as well, my lord. The king thought you could use some help preparing for your audience with the Council.” He waved in a rack of clothing. “I have take the liberty of selecting an outfit—”

  “Thank you,” Jasen interrupted. “But I won’t be changing.”

  Rotheld puffed out his cheeks in surprise. “My lord, I most humbly suggest you change your mind. The council is very particular about proper etiquette.”

  “Believe me, there is no outfit that I can wear that’s going to make them more amenable to my arguments. I’d rather be comfortable.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” Rotheld said, although he didn’t seem happy about it. “But would my lord at least consent to some styling of his hair?”

  Jasen tried to run his fingers through his hair, but couldn’t manage it since it was so tangled by the wind. “That might be a good idea,” he admitted.

  Rotheld set to work brushing out the tangles from Jasen’s hair. Jasen was afraid he was going to try one of his fancier hair styles, but he merely tied it back in a simple bow. He also convinced Jasen to allow him to wash his face and hands. By the time Rotheld was finished, Jasen still didn’t look fashionable, but he was put together, at the very least. As he looked himself over in the mirror, he noticed a change in himself that had nothing to do with his clothing or his grooming. Up until now, he hadn’t realized how nervous he used to look all the time. A calm had settled over his features. He looked…dignified.

  Jasen took his time finished his meal, sipping at his tea thoughtfully as he went over his arguments. He didn’t have any control over how the council would respond, but he was optimistic. He had been called by the dragons to speak to their hearts. When he was finished, he wiped off a small knife and tucked it into his waist coat. He would need it for the demonstration he was planning.

  Before long, Rilvor arrived. He put his arms around Jasen. “The ministers have convened and are awaiting us.”

  “We should go then.”

  “Yes,” Rilvor agreed, his arms still around him.

  “You should probably let me go.”

  Rilvor pulled back, his cheeks a bit flushed. “My apologies. I have only just gotten you back—part of me is afraid you will slip away again.”

  “I won’t,” Jasen promised.

  “And I meant what I said—even if the ministers do not give their blessing, I will fight for you. It would go better for us if they agree, but do not be disheartened if they do not rule in your favor. There is nothing to be worried about.”

  “Yes, I know,” Jasen said mildly.

  Rilvor tilted his head. “You aren’t nervous?” Rilvor rushed to correct himself. “That is to say, of course there is no need to be nervous, but it’s…” He trailed
off.

  “Not like me?” Jasen finished for him with a grin.

  “I would never say that, but it gladdens me that you are not distressed.” He offered his arm. “Shall we go?”

  Jasen took his arm. “Yes.”

  They made their way to the Chamber of Justice. Jasen had never been inside, but he knew what to expect. As a part of his consort training, he had received lessons in the system of justice in the Draelands. The Chamber of Justice was where the royal ministers debated matters of law, and where the king dispensed justice to subjects who came to him with disputes. The king’s throne sat at the opposite end from the entrance, raised to be well above the rest of the room. Ten podiums were situated in a semicircle around the perimeter of the room, five on each side of the throne. While not as high as the throne, they were also on a raised level. The center of the room was empty—this was the floor, where those seeking to bring a matter to the ministers’ attention were to stand.

  The set-up was meant to be intimidating, and it was. Even with his newly earned confidence, Jasen felt a flutter of nerves, which only increased when Rilvor left him to take his seat on his throne. The ministers were all at their stations, dressed in ceremonial white robes. Ministers were not aristocrats—they were dragon-called to serve the cause of justice. That included Minister Adwig, Jasen realized, who was currently giving him a look that one might give a viper that had sneaked its way into an otherwise perfectly maintained garden. It was something Jasen would keep in mind.

  A page appeared to announce Jasen’s arrival. “May it please the ministers to receive Lord Jasen of Grumhul, who comes to plead his case to be made king consort of the Allied Realms through marriage to His Majesty King Rilvor.” The page bowed, ceding the floor to Jasen.

  Jasen cleared his throat. “Honorable ministers, I know that I am not the person many of you would prefer to be at the side of the king. I’d be happy to address any concerns you might have.”

  Minister Eveth, an elderly woman, was the first to speak. She wore a purple mantle, indicating her status as the senior minister. “Your lack of pedigree, as you put it, does concern many of our members, but you would not be the first person of humble origins to ascend to the level of consort to the monarch. The larger concern is your scandalous conduct. Do you deny that you have engaged in carnal relations with a host of men, including those of common stock?”