Sugar & Dragon Act I: Temptation (Sugar & Dragon #1)

XII Hera

As usual, when Hera arrived at Dago’s castle, she was greeted by a ginger cat.

“How do you always know when a guest will arrive?” she asked politely.

Pandorian flapped his little wings, but his gaze suggested that her question lacked panache. “I walk along the walls and look around.”

Hera felt heat rising to her cheeks, but since she was determined not to let anyone throw her off balance, she smiled sweetly. “Doesn’t that bore you?”

“No. I like to calculate the surface area of clouds passing nearby.”

Involuntarily, she felt a tug of interest. “Mathematical formulas aren’t too logical for you?”

“How could they be too logical?” The imp’s eyes widened in puzzlement. “Mathematics makes absolutely no sense.”

“Oh.”

A silence fell.

“Didn’t Dago tell you he invited me on a three-day trip?” Hera asked.

“He did.”

Pause.

“But you’re not going to let me in?”

“No.”

Pause.

“So maybe you could ask me a riddle, and if I don’t solve it, you’ll let me in?”

The shadow moved its fluffy tail, suddenly animated. “Alright,” he agreed, giggling. “This you will surely guess: When it’s gone for a long time, everyone complains, and when it finally comes, they quickly hide.”

“Rain,” Hera said before she checked herself.

Pandorian snorted and threw another riddle at her. “It has rivers without water, forests without trees, and cities without people.”

“Map.”

The kitten scrambled merrily and started walking along the gate. “Three men were in a boat that capsized. Only two of them got their hair wet. Why?”

“One of them was bald.”

“What does it take to put three boys in one shoe?”

“Give each other one shoe.”

“What can’t you have for breakfast?”

“Dinner.”

“List the three days of the week, but do not use their names.”

“Yesterday, today, tomorrow.”

“Sweet nightmare, Galenos, do you really have to be such a pegasus in every situation that resembles a test?”

Hera lifted her gaze to the top of the wall, where Dago Midais stood. His fair hair reflected the sun’s rays in such a way that his head seemed to be surrounded by a halo, but the ironic smile and arms crossed over his chest effectively dispelled the association with an angelic dream.

“If I didn’t reply even though I knew the answer, that would be cheating, wouldn’t it?” she said, adopting a defensive tone.

Dago moved his gaze to the imp, who stopped pacing and looked up. “What do you think, Dorian?”

“That would be cheating,” the cat said confidently.

“If Hera cheated, would you stop her from entering the castle?”

“Why should I stop her from doing anything?”

Hera frowned, conflicted. She couldn’t remember the last time she heard Midais say her name without using her surname, and she didn’t know why she cared. Searching instinctively for even the smallest hint to grasp at, she asked the shadow, “So you don’t think one shouldn’t cheat in a game?”

“I think a game shouldn’t be boring.”

In any other situation, the way the morpheus narrowed his green eyes would have worried her, but now Hera was relieved. She saw more than logic in his words. She found a clue.

“If you tell me right, it would be wrong.” She turned to the cat again. “If you tell me wrong, it would be right. What word am I?”

Dorian tilted his head, intrigued. He moved his tail left and right for about a minute, but finally conceded, “I don’t know.”

“Wrong.”

Realizing that was the answer, the phantom purred. “Good,” he praised her.

“Even better, because now you have to let me in.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t solve my riddle.”

“But you were supposed to not solve mine.”

“Then why couldn’t you solve mine?”

The imp giggled. Then he stood and briskly started toward the gate.

She looked up.

“Welcome back,” Dago said, giving her a predatory smile.

Hera smiled too. Before, she hadn’t been entirely convinced that she’d be able to find her way in his world, but now she had a point of reference to lean on if she felt lost. Even if Dago tried to hide something from her, she had a tool that could help her predict his next move.

A game shouldn’t be boring.

She could understand such a rule.

***

Twelve hours later, Hera had to reconsider her views.

She understood nothing .

After she crossed the gate, Dago activated a levitation spell that caused the castle to glide gently through the air. Then he invited her to eat breakfast together, during which he told her about the book he was reading and came up with several theories worth devoting time to in the future. After the meal, he showed her an elegant room where she could leave her luggage and took her to the library, where they spent several hours reading the volumes he’d found and exchanging observations until it was time to eat again. He then asked her if she would rather wait in the library while he prepared dinner, or if she wanted to take a break and help him. She decided a break was a good idea and went with him to the kitchen, where they divided the tasks and prepared a vegetable bake together.

After this experience, which strangely reminded her of when Master Homer had asked them to prepare a potion together, they went to the library again. At the end of the day, they ate a simple dinner, after which Dago announced that he was going to take a bath in the bathroom upstairs, encouraged her to use the one downstairs, wished her good night, and finally disappeared into the depths of the house, leaving her alone. Since she had nothing better to do, Hera took a bath in his fountain-like tub, changed into her night robes, and retired to the room he’d shown her earlier, straining every brain fiber in an attempt to understand. But the result was the same.

She understood nothing.

She especially didn’t understand Dago. Not in general, nor in details. Not at all.

Worse yet, she didn’t understand herself.

The day had passed peacefully. She might even go so far as to say it was nice. Books, good food, nice views, unintrusive company… all of that was really nice. She hadn’t any reason to complain. She should be glad. Then why did she feel so… unsatiated?

As the word touched the edge of her mind, Hera opened her eyes wider, staring at the ceiling studded with star-like fluorescent stones. That was impossible…

It was too early…

Why should she feel disappointed that Dago didn’t…?

Hera swallowed. Midais treated her kindly. He shared valuable books with her and provided comfortable travel conditions. He didn’t speak without reason, and when he did open his mouth, he had adequate observations. She’d watched him closely all day, but not once had he done anything that would encroach on her comfort zone. He hadn’t even tried . Considering who she was dealing with, it might be considered suspicious, but…

What could she suspect him of if he had made no secret of his purpose from the very beginning?

He wanted them to marry. Was it really so strange that he was trying to show her that he could be a good partner for her?

Wasn’t she the strange one, obsessing over his touch after one frivolous encounter?

If she’d had an orgasm then, it would’ve been more understandable, but colorful drops, the only positive thing that had happened was that she got wet. This had happened before. Where did this impatience come from?

Hera squirmed on the bed, frustrated. She was alternately hot and cold, so she kept throwing off the blanket and covering herself with it. Her thoughts raced in circles like a cat chasing its tail until her head hurt. The more she wanted to sleep, the more she couldn’t.

Finally, she gave up. She got up and approached the window, opening it wide to let in the cool air. She guessed from its salty scent that the castle had already reached the coast. She watched the floating clouds, illuminated by the round moon, until a need burning beneath her skin prompted her to join them.

Hera slipped off the delicate chemise from her shoulders, letting it fall on the floor, then climbed onto the windowsill and jumped out into the night.