Drake Milliand gave him a wheedling smile that made me despise his smarm. When he dragged a leer along Baz’s body, I grew to hate the man. When he ogled Baz’s chest and arms, and then went on to examine the bulge bowing his leather pants, I snarled—as if I were a dragon, and my treasure was being threatened.
I was, of course, no dragon, and Alobaz Hawxley, warrior prince of the Domdurron Empire, was not mine.
Baz alone was smiling, his attention on me instead of on the lecherous prick who couldn’t be bothered to hide his uninvited appreciation.
Miiiinnnne, the monster inside me growled, loudly enough that I feared others would hear.
I shook my head to clear the thought, then studiously observed the ceiling. The shadows overhead swirled lazily, as they often did. There was no indication a horde of blats concealed themselves behind them.
“You tell us she is a diplomat hailed from Orania, my warrior prince,” said the asshole drake. “Will you share her title with us, so we may know how to properly address her?”
“I’ll show you how to ‘properly address’ me,” I muttered while taking a step toward him.
Baz gave the rope that linked us a gentle tug, holding me back.
“She is the long-lost princess of…” My heart stammered. What is he doing? “…the Masau Family.”
My heart thudded to a halt. What?
Drake Milliand glanced at the others, who watched the exchange, the blats forgotten. When none nodded in recognition, he cleared his throat.
“You will forgive me, my warrior prince, but I’ve not heard of such a family.”
“Do not fret. Your ignorance is understandable. Her family is small yet mighty, secreted away in the Sparkling Ice Cliffs of Orania.”
Trufy-Man whistled. “The Sparkling Ice Cliffs?”
“Indeed, Visdrake Bosko.”
“How very interesting.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll pardon me, my warrior prince,” the visdrake next said, “but why is she veiled?”
“Her beauty is such that anyone who lays eyes upon her is at risk of dying instantly.”
“Just humans? Fae? Or even sänglures?” Drake Milliand asked.
“Sänglures especially.”
“But … we cannot die like that.”
Baz smiled. To someone who didn’t know him, it appeared relaxed, convivial even. To someone who knew him as well as I did, it was clearly a threat.
“Try her and find out for yourself. There is no guarantee you’ll die, it may just hurt a lot, but as your prince, I was obligated to warn you.”
“The Drady Vee is greatly honored in her land. She is sworn not to speak unless it’s to ask informational questions.”
I choked on my spittle. If Baz thought he was going to collar me, bind me, and shut me up, he didn’t know me at all.
Through my fake veil, in a sweet voice I’d perhaps never used before, I said, “Thank you, Alobaz.” The drake and visdrake inhaled sharply, but was it for failing to ask an “informational question,” or because I’d addressed their precious prince by his familiar name? “I make exceptions at my discretion.”
I speak only when it suits me. Ha, take that, Bazzy Baz!
Then, to move things along, because I still needed to get Baz alone to ask him about the ghost who looked so much like my mother, in an imperious tone that demanded obedience, I asked of the nobles, “Where is the empress?”
Their faces blanched behind garish, colorful accents before the lady’s maid nervously scratched her bosom and curtsied.
