Chapter 1 #3
The elves glanced at the gnome, then looked longer at Rylana before facing Jildarin. He lifted his chin, gazing back at them, his expression more perturbed than inviting. They shared long looks with each other before speaking, as if each would prefer if the other addressed the dragon.
Even when Jildarin stood in his human form, he emanated magic, the power of his kind.
“We do not wish to inconvenience you, Lord Dragon,” the female elf finally said, “but we are on a mission of urgency and must find one who has been deemed a threat by the elven residents of the Tranquility enclave.”
“My bookkeeper is not a threat. Neither is my gnome.”
“No, we do not believe so. But your… bookkeeper has been seen frequently in the presence of the one we seek, someone who is a threat.”
Both elves scowled at Rylana.
She was a little relieved that this appeared to be about Sylin again, and that the elves hadn’t declared a war on her, but she did worry for her comrade.
A couple of times, Sylin had implied that she might leave Tranquility soon since people—elves—were looking for her, but she kept showing up, sometimes to visit Rylana and always to visit the coffee shop across the street.
It seemed the rich, fresh roasts delighted her elven tastebuds.
“That is not a concern for me and does not involve my diner,” Jildarin said. “If you have consumed your meal and paid, you will leave now.”
“Lord Dragon, we will certainly do as you wish,” the male elf said, speaking softly to Jildarin, “but as an ally to our kind, you may wish to know that the elven queen will soon travel from the south to visit Tranquility for a political meeting with the gnomes and other species leaders. It is important that she be kept safe. With a proven assassin in the city, one known for targeting her own kind, it’s paramount that we make sure she will not be a problem during our beloved monarch’s visit. ”
This was the first that Rylana had heard information about the queen, and she began to understand why the local elves were concerned about Sylin.
Maybe they didn’t have a problem with soldiers and mercenaries in general, even those who’d fought on the opposing side during the war, but with Sylin specifically.
That didn’t make Rylana feel that much better.
They might kill Sylin because of her reputation, without knowing if she had a mission to attack their queen or not.
Rylana doubted she did. The last assignment Sylin had taken had been some kind of undercover work for the gnomish peacekeepers who kept law in the city.
“What do you wish for me to do about your concern?” Jildarin asked.
“We’d like to take your, ah, bookkeeper for questioning.”
Rylana propped her fists on her hips.
“She serves me and works in my establishment during all her waking hours,” Jildarin said. “She is not available for questioning elsewhere. Soon, she will begin construction on my new rooftop dining area.”
“I’m actually just getting bids from contractors at this point,” Rylana murmured.
“She will be very busy retiling the roof and installing a pergola.” Jildarin pronounced the unfamiliar word slowly, then gave her an arch look.
Maybe that was his way of saying he didn’t mind adding more seating on the roof but expected her to do some of the work herself. That was fine. Better than being dragged off for questioning at the elven enclave.
The female elf pressed her lips together. “The queen would surely be pleased if you assisted us in this manner, Lord Dragon.”
“Please tell Queen Fareesa, whom I’ve met before, that she is invited to dine at my establishment when she visits. No assassins would dare attack her here.” The look that Jildarin gave to Rylana said that Sylin had better not dare.
“I’m sure the queen would enjoy the pergola,” was all Rylana said. “We can add decorative vining plants in pots that can be trained to grow up the posts.”
The lips of both elves pressed together with displeasure as they walked out.
“I’d better warn Sylin that the hunt for her may grow even more determined,” Rylana murmured.
“You will inform your comrade that the elven queen is not to be assassinated,” Jildarin said firmly.
“I’ll let her know, but I doubt she has that on her mind.”
“What is on the mind of that one?” Jildarin squinted at her. “Why does she lurk around?”
“She’s drawn to the shop across the street.”
“The bakery of dubiously shaped cakes?”
Rylana snorted but, having chatted with the grandmotherly dwarf who made adult-themed desserts for various occasions, did not protest the description.
“No, though I understand she’s a fan of their scones. It’s the coffee shop that she loves. Also, I don’t think she’s decided what she’ll do with her life next.”
“For the sake of my servants, ensure that whatever she does next does not involve my diner.” Jildarin walked back into the kitchen, earning a bow from Gniknik on his way past.
Worried for the comrade who’d not only fought with her for years but who’d saved her life more than once, Rylana vowed to look for Sylin to warn her.