AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"They won't lead enemies here," Laszlo said, watching my approach. "And Asterion has always been overly cautious when it comes to a woman's safety."
I sat down in the chair across from him, lifted the lid on my plate, and a beautiful meal waited, still steaming. Laszlo picked up his fork and knife and then paused, lowering his hands and staring at me with wide eyes.
"You found Hywel." There was a sharp edge to the words, and I wasn't sure if it was rebuke or surprise.
"I did. I've been dusting him off."
Laszlo's wings stirred, a few tiny feathers floating into the air. "Did he wake?"
His stare was fixed to me, and I couldn't tear my own away. "No."
Laszlo relaxed slightly and returned to his meal, breaking the frozen gaze that had trapped me so I could do the same. "There is a wax he liked applied after he returned from flying. I will find it…if you'd like to—"
"Yes," I said, nodding, my fists clenching around the silverware.
Laszlo was quiet, only an occasional kiss of feathers brushing, barely a scratch from the dinnerware. When I watched him, his eyes were down, but I could've sworn I felt the prick of his stare again when I looked away.
"Hywel has always had a…romantic temperament. His dreams must offer you some relief," Laszlo said, speaking again finally when the awkwardness of our silence had finally melted away.
My cheeks warmed. "I don't know what he dreams of, but he's very powerful."
Laszlo chuckled, but then cleared the sound away before I could appreciate its warmth. "Do you speak to him? He will sense you."
I nodded again, thinking of the praises I'd laid down of his beauty, my occasional gasps of gratitude as he'd shed strength for me to soak up. I stared around the large room, at every solitary station. The desk, the chair by the fire, this dining table.
"How did you come to be in this castle with Hywel?" I asked. Was Laszlo here to guard Hywel or was he here waiting for Hywel to awaken?
Laszlo set down his fork and knife, and I noticed that his plate was mostly cleared. He'd already been eating when I arrived. I realized with a pinch of hurt that he would rise and leave me here now that he was done.
But first he said, "The castle is our home."
The meaning struck me immediately. Laszlo was not a guard or a friend or simply someone waiting for a dragon to awaken again. Laszlo was Hywel's lover, alone in this vast castle with the company of shadows as the dragon dreamed.
He rose from his chair and I opened my mouth, not sure what would come out, a plea for him to stay—I grew antsy every day spent alone; how had Laszlo survived so long like this?—or an apology for my uncomfortable conversation, but he wasn't fleeing from me. A distant creak and bang heralded an arrival, and I too rose from my seat, the chair skidding back suddenly.
Laszlo rounded the table and offered me his arm, his wings widening. The air around him was powdery, scented of tea and musk, and the shelter of the wing was warm, a few feathers barely grazing my hair braided at my back.
"It's the wolf," Laszlo murmured, stiffening at my side as the approaching steps stomped in an uneven pace.
Sure enough, Conall called out, "Well, Laz, where are you hiding?"
Laszlo didn't bother answering because a moment later, the doors to the room were thrown open. A breeze carried in fresh air as if it had clung to Conall and his long, red locks and heavy coat. He grinned at the pair of us, his eyes holding to Laszlo a little longer. "Finally. Friendly faces." His head tipped, and then he winked at me. "Well, one friendly face at least. Ah, and dinner. Good, I'm famished."
"I've just finished," Laszlo said, gesturing toward his seat. "I'll leave you bo—"
"You'll do no such thing," Conall scoffed, but he didn't hesitate to take Laszlo's seat, where a fresh plate of food was waiting for him. "Sit down and make conversation, or I'll pluck your feathers out while your back is turned."
Laszlo's arm tensed under my hand—it was stronger and thicker than I expected, his careful suiting disguising the power of him—but he sighed and another chair appeared at the table, as well as a crystal decanter and three glasses.
"Asterion returned to London," Conall said before lifting the quail on his plate with his fingers and groaning as he took a bite.
"Did you expect otherwise?" Laszlo asked, pulling out my chair for me first.
"Noble bastard," Conall breathed, and he and Laszlo exchanged a brief glance of amused frustration. "Thank fuck Hywel still dreams of good cooks," Conall moaned around another bite.
"He's having an inspired week," Laszlo said with a dip of his head, pouring himself a glass of claret. He looked to me next, decanter hovering over the glass. I nodded and he poured for me, but he passed Conall the bottle to serve himself.
There was a curious tension between the two men. They were familiar enough with one another for Conall to pick at Laszlo, but companionable in their pattern too. I tried not to be too obvious about watching them, but I wasn't sure they'd care either way.
