Epilogue #2
“I haven’t decided yet if I want children,” Rylana said, though the memory of Rolf’s unruly herd came to mind with more fondness than was perhaps logical.
She almost added that Father had also hesitated because he’d wanted to take advantage of Jildarin, but she’d already accused him of that and didn’t want to be contrary.
Besides, it seemed like he might have come to give his permission.
She hoped that was what had brought him but glanced at the kerchief, wondering if he merely wanted another favor.
“I have faith that you will realize the importance of that and eventually seek out a mate compatible for the purpose.” Father nodded to her. “Regardless, I will not object to you and your… business partner having a romantic fling.”
Jildarin’s brow furrowed. No, this wasn’t the same as her father giving his blessing. But he wasn’t forbidding a relationship either. Would that be enough for Jildarin? To satisfy the guidance he’d received from that book?
“Further, I thank you for the favors you’ve done for me,” Father added and lifted the kerchief-wrapped object.
“I brought this for you, in case it has any importance to your kind. Oddly, it was in the chest that you delivered. The bars of gold and gems inside were exactly as I expected—I still had a copy of the manifest from that shipment in my records. But this wasn’t mentioned. ”
Jildarin nodded, not appearing surprised. “I sensed magic inside of that chest.”
“And do you sense magic in this?” Father raised his eyebrows.
“I do.”
“Huh. Well, all I can assume is that it also came from the mines near Agajen’s Contested Colonies, the same as the precious metals and gems, but if there was an explanation tucked into the chest, the paper long ago eroded at the bottom of the sea.”
“Will there be an unveiling soon?” Rylana waved at the kerchief.
Her father snorted again and handed the item to Jildarin.
He unwrapped it to reveal a piece of jade carved into the shape of a dragon perched on a log with its wings spread, as if it was about to spring into the air for flight.
“It was in an insulated golden box so I didn’t have to clean it off much,” Father said. “It was quite protected from the elements. Striking, isn’t it? Frodin wanted it for his collection.”
“Interesting.” Jildarin lifted the dragon up to view in the daylight of the nearest window.
“I cannot tell from its magic what it does, but it is dragon magic, so it wasn’t imbued by one of the lesser species, though perhaps one of them was responsible for the carving.
My kind have no need to make magical gewgaws, nor do we attempt to use our fangs or talons to chisel items from stone or gem.
If we are to engage in an art form, it usually involves using fire to create images or statuary. ”
Rylana looked at the thin wooden lamp shades around the diner, Jildarin’s signature dragon burned into each one.
“Since you were instrumental in retrieving the chest, it seems fair to give it to you.” Father spoke to Jildarin, but he also gave Rylana a significant look.
What did that mean? Was this supposed to be a peace offering? An apology for not being able to give Jildarin exactly what he wanted? Or what he thought he wanted? Rylana knew Jildarin didn’t want to marry her. He just wanted to do what was appropriate, according to a centuries-old book.
“I will accept it.” Jildarin nodded and set it on the counter behind the plaque.
Rylana had a feeling the plaque was much more important to him. Who would he try to woo to the diner next so that he could inscribe another name under those of the elven queen and the dwarven king? Was there an emperor somewhere who might wish to visit Tranquility?
“Good.” Father brushed imaginary dust or water droplets off his cloak and headed for the door, but he paused to look back. “Should there actually be a way for dragons and humans to have offspring…”
“You’d give your heartfelt blessing then?” Rylana asked, her eyebrows raising. “Because it would be handy to have a powerful grandchild who could chase off pirates?”
“That would be handy. And the family would surely go down in the history books.” Father rested a hand on his chest and looked longingly toward the ceiling.
“That being the most important thing here, of course.” Rylana glanced at Jildarin, feeling the need to apologize to him.
“Offspring are an important thing. Many offspring. To increase the likelihood of having an heir eager to take on the family business.” Father gave her another significant look.
Before walking out and shutting the door, he added, “Were it possible for you two to have offspring, I would not only give my full blessing for such a union, but I would pay for the wedding. We could have it on the lawn at the estate in the spring when all the flowers are in bloom.”
Thankfully, he departed before Rylana could throw the jade dragon at him. He would have deserved being pelted, but she didn’t know what its magic did—or if it was breakable. Hurling it would be unwise.
“I can envision your aunt, mother, and other female dragons of your clan flying down to incinerate me and everyone else if we tried to get married,” Rylana said.
“It would be difficult to engage in such a union. Further, regardless of our ability to create offspring together, my family would not give permission for it. They want me to have full-blooded dragon offspring.”
“Oh, I’m clear on that. Look, Jildarin. You’re a dragon, and I’m a human. We weren’t meant to marry.” Rylana smiled, even if the statement saddened her a little. “But Father gave his permission for us to go on a date and enjoy ourselves.” She faced him. “That’s enough for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Jildarin also faced her and clasped her hand. “Where will we go on our first date, and will we engage in recreational sex?”
“Oh, I’m going to require that. I want more than two hours with you too. We may have to close the diner.”
Jildarin’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps I should more seriously consider your suggestion to hire an assistant chef to occasionally take over meal services.”
“I would.” Rylana leaned forward, squeezing his hands, and kissed him.
She half-expected him to pull away and say he needed to begin preparations for dinner, but he issued a contented sound somewhere between a hmm and a growl and returned the kiss.
The wariness and hesitancy in his earlier kisses had disappeared.
Because her father had given his blessing? Of a sorts? Perfect.
Alas, before the kiss could head to even more interesting places, something made Jildarin frown and pull back. He looked toward the ceiling. Or… did he sense something in the sky? Or someone?
“Zilek is flying overhead,” he said.
“I shouldn’t have said his name earlier. I didn’t mean to summon him.”
“Look out!” someone cried in the street.
Was Zilek landing? In his dragon form? No pillars were gonging yet.
Rylana ran to a front window in time to see a huge shaggy creature land on the cobblestone street with a great thud and trembling of the earth.
“What is that?” Gaping, she walked outside. Had Zilek dropped it? Why?
“I believe that is the corpse of a gleaming glacial mammoth,” Jildarin said blandly, as if there was nothing alarming about having it dropped in the street in front of his diner.
A dwarf driving a wagon was also gaping at it—if Zilek’s aim had been off, the driver and his load would have been crushed.
Elsewhere on the street, pedestrians stared and clutched each other’s arms. And was that Mya poking her head out of the bakery with a couple of ruddy-cheeked dwarven females peering around her shoulders?
Had some of her kin already shown up to visit her?
“They are found only at the South Pole,” Jildarin added, not acknowledging the pedestrians. “An impressive feat for Zilek to have carried it so far.”
Across the street, the door of the coffee shop opened. Sylin walked out with her gnomish vacuum flask in hand. She rarely displayed utter surprise, but her mouth was parted in a stunned expression as she considered the shaggy heap. Then she looked upward.
The silver-scaled Zilek flew—no, that was more of a sashay—past, high enough to keep from causing the pillars to gong in alarm. He tilted his head and regarded Sylin with his green eyes. If dragons could look smug, he did.
“Huh,” Sylin said.
Rylana couldn’t tell if the feat had impressed her or not. Knowing her, probably not.
“Gleaming glacial mammoth should be aged to improve the tenderness and flavor of the meat,” Jildarin said, “but perhaps I can prepare the liver, heart, and sweetbreads for a delectable dinner meal. Organs are superior when fresh, after all. Do you have a preference?”
“No, but Sylin might. I think… no, I know this mammoth is for her.”
“Then I will ask her opinion.”
As Jildarin crossed the street to confer with Sylin, Rylana looked thoughtfully toward the bakery.
“Maybe I’ll see what Mya is making for dinner tonight.”
THE END