Page 29 of Ale Storm

“Dwarves live deep underground and have sentries and magical explosives and other deterrents guarding the entrances of their cities.” He slanted her a sidelong look. “Further, they allied with humans during the Ore War.”

“Meaning that you could fly me to the mountains but not get me in to see him?”

“Correct. You might have better luck sending a letter to him—or whatever lackey handles his mail. There is, I believe, regular postal service from Tranquility to the dwarven settlements in the Icefang Mountains.”

“Probably. They ship a lot of ore out of the ports here, so there are a lot of wagons that go back and forth. I know my father has a big account with the dwarves in their capital. Hm. I do have that drawing of the horn that I could send with a letter.” Rylana wondered what the odds were that the king would read mail from a random human in a city a hundred miles away. His lackey would probably toss it in a trash bin. “I could put my surname on it. That might get it read, especially if the king is aware of the means by which they ship their cargoes. You’d think he would be, wouldn’t you?”

“Does everybody do business with your family?” Sylin asked.

“Everybody who has something to ship.”

“I guess I knew that based on the fact that every freighter that docks here has that Sun Whale harpoon logo on its hull. I’ve heard your surname mentioned often as I’ve walked around the city.”

“This is the home of Sun Whale, and it’s a big global business these days.” Rylana shrugged.

“It’s a wonder that you keep giving up the opportunity to work for such a prestigious and powerful company and instead toil away in a little diner.”

Rylana held up the last piece of her bacon—her perfectly salty, slightly smoky and sweet, and sumptuously coffee-touched bacon. “A wonder, indeed.”

Jildarin squinted sternly at Sylin. “Rylana is a loyal and dedicated business partner who values helping dragons teach lesser species about our varied and magnificent culture.” He gazed fondly at Rylana.

“I value helping one dragon, anyway.” Rylana smiled back at him.

“Those gooey eyes you’re making at each other are a signal for me to depart.” Sylin took her plate to the dining room, where customers were starting to trickle in.

As much as Rylana would have enjoyed continuing to gaze with fond adoration at Jildarin, Gniknik walked into the kitchen with the first orders. She finished her meal and helped plate food for the paying patrons.

“I went to see your father last night,” Jildarin said when they had a moment alone together.

“Because that book says you need his approval to court me?” Rylana asked.

Jildarin hesitated. “I am uncertain about the proper course forward. I desire to… kiss you again. And more.” He looked at her. “But I wish to respect you and do what is expected for your kind. At the same time, I am wrestling with uncertainty in regard to my clan—my mother and my kin. My brother has advised me to only have a most clandestine relationship with you, but that would make me feel like it is wrong to spend time with a human, even though you have been much more supportive of me than any female dragon has been. Whenever I think of having to hide a relationship with you from my kin, I burn with defiance and want to roar and breathe fire on any who object to me doing as I wish. To us doing as we wish. But… when I am more rational, I grow concerned that things exactly like what happened last night could continue to happen. Or worse. You are brave and strong, but a female dragon is powerful and easily vexed.”

“I’ve noticed,” Rylana said around an emotional lump that had formed in her throat as he spoke.

“I not only went to your father because I seek his permission, but because… I thought perhaps he might have advice on such matters. Unfortunately, my own father passed long ago, and my uncle was killed in the Ore War. Though there are other elder males in the clan, we’ve not traditionally been close, and they may be befuddled by my desire to have a relationship with a human.”

“I can understand longing for a father figure, especially as a guy, but I don’t think my dad is ideal for that position.”

“He did not forbid me from courting you.”

“Maybe he’s okay then.” Rylana smiled.

“He did say I would have to prove myself if I wanted him to bless our union.” Jildarin’s jaws parted, as if he were in his native form and displaying his fangs. “A dragon should never have to prove himself to a human, but, since he sired you, I was tolerant of his ignorance.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“Yes. I informed him of the many victories and accomplishments I’ve had in my life, including defeating entire enemy armies, but, of course, winning the Golden Whisk should have sufficed.”

“That’s the culmination of your victories?” Rylana might have weighed defeating an army above winning a cooking contest, but she, of course, was not a chef.

“Thus far. Creating a unique meal for the queen of the elven realm was also a highlight.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “When you write to the king, perhaps you should mention that Jildarin-grozanarav of Clan Killcrusher would be interested in hosting him at the Dragon Diner.”

“I did assume I should mention your name in the first line of the letter, thus to ensure the lackey would send it along to the king without delay.”

“Yes. Were the dwarven king to dine here, I could add his name to my plaque. We’ve been visited by many new patrons since the queen’s meal.”

“The addition of the rooftop terrace with a view of the lake and beautiful foliage might have helped too.” Rylana suspected that was drawing people more than a plaque with a name on it.