Chapter 3
Three
With a groan, I dunked my head underwater, wishing I could plug my ears. But her voice persisted, even submerged in water.
“And then I will eat all of your servants, and I will show you exactly who I am. I am not to be trifled with. I am a terrifying beast!”
I pushed myself out of the water, embarrassed at the splash that hit the tile floor, but Nuti was already ready with a robe, her smile amused. We could both hear the squawk of birds and a hiss like a snake through the walls, Nohe’s voice rising over all of them.
I pulled on the robe, the thick fabric sticking to my skin, and pushed open the door.
A dragon no bigger than a newborn wolf pup was trying to eat Dawn. The bird was holding her own, squawking and flapping around, pecking at the dragon’s head.
Just because I could no longer understand her didn’t mean it wasn’t clear exactly what she was feeling and exactly how angry she was.
“Stop.” When the order didn’t get much done, I raised my voice. “Stop!”
Dawn flew to one of the couches, ruffling her feathers and shaking them until they fell back, silky smooth. The dragon settled on the table, curling around herself, preening in amusement.
“What happened?” I asked. The dragon raised her head, and I could practically see the smirk on her face as she got to rewrite history because I could no longer understand Dawn’s voice. Before she could say anything, I turned to Nohe. “They’re fighting over food?”
“The dragon just ate.” She glanced over at the open window. “I was setting out food for your ravens when she got outside. I left the window open, my apologies, Your Highness.”
I waved my hand, glaring at the dragon. “You just ate.”
“Hours ago. Practically an entire day ago,” she grumbled, looking away.
“Come here, you.” I walked over to Dawn, extending my arm, and the bird hopped onto it, using her claws to climb up to my shoulder.
I walked over to the open window and saw that Nohe had filled the troughs installed just outside.
It had seeds and nuts, little bits of cooked meat and some berries that looked slightly squashed, as though they hadn’t quite been perfect enough for the consort’s plate.
I used my free hand to lift Dawn off my shoulder, putting her on the perch designed for the three ravens. When she had settled, still glaring at the dragon through the pane of glass, I carefully shut it, leaving her to her meal. Then I turned to the dragon.
“You just ate, and unless you plan on growing back to your normal size this instant, then let us be clear: you do not need more than one meal per luncheon.” I felt I should be shaking my finger at her, but that reminded me too much of my mother.
And becoming my mother later in life was a fate I’d hoped to avoid by assassinating the emperor and getting killed very young.
“Would you like to see me grow?” the dragon growled. “I could destroy your whole house. This floor would not bear my weight.”
I started to respond, but hesitated. Everything up until now had been carefully constructed so that it didn’t look as though I was directly talking to the dragon or the bird with the expectation that I could understand their response.
If I answered the dragon, it would be too obvious and even Nohe—who appeared to like me—would have to explicitly acknowledge I was practicing animal speak.
Even though I wasn’t.
I directed my words to Nohe. “If the dragon is bothering you, I can send her somewhere else. The emperor’s quarters.
The servants over there already hate me.
Giving them a dragon might be an improvement of their opinion.
” I tapped the side of my face in a motion I had learned meant that I was joking.
It was usually used by children who hadn’t quite grasped complex humor, but Nohe’s eyes still crinkled in amusement, either at my misusing a children’s hand motion or the joke.
“No. She’s not trouble at all. Just growing.” Nohe crossed the room, picking up the dragon and stroking her fingers over its crest. She smiled down at the creature. “Have you thought about a name yet?”
“I suppose calling her ‘Annoyance’ is out of the question,” I said, darkly glaring at the creature.
“Oh, no, Your Highness.” Nohe pulled the dragon closer to her chest, nearly twisting her body away from me as though to protect the murderous, ravenous, ancient beast from me, the man who provided food and a home for her.
“I’ll continue thinking on it,” I said, shaking my head, droplets of water trailing down my neck.
Having waited for the dust to settle, Nuti rushed forward, a towel in her hands, nudging me toward my room, where she dried my hair, rubbing oils into it to keep it smooth.
Her hands were professional when they spread scented lotion over my skin, before she left me to the mercies of my newest personal servant, Homisu, a man twenty years older than me, but whose judgment I felt like a physical blow every time he raised an eyebrow significantly or sighed under his breath.
Nohe had accepted the story that Piivu had run away with a short nod and if any of his fellow servants were suspicious, the whispers never reached my ears.
Even the blood monks said the other servants simply talked around Piivu as though he’d never existed.
I hoped it didn’t mean they assumed I’d killed him.
I did miss Piivu’s affection for me, especially as Homisu made his own disapproval so clear.
I’d learned a series of disapproving hand gestures from him that made even Nohe raise her eyebrows.
He tutted as he looked over the bruises on my body, his lips going tight and a distinct aura of displeasure radiating from him when he peered at the cut on my cheek.
After examining it closely, he found a salve and spread it over the wound before starting to dress me.
As Homisu finished fastening my pants and adjusting the tuck of my shirt, the door opened just slightly, the dragon now the size of a well-fed cat as she pushed her way into the room.
She sat on her haunches, observing for a moment before she said, “You’re hurt.”
I hid a wince as Homisu readjusted the fastening of my pants, pushing on a tender spot that would most certainly turn into a bruise. “I was in a fight. Two, actually.”
Homisu nodded, brushing a finger over the shell of his ear in a signal that he had heard as much. “My deepest sympathy, Your Highness.”
“I mean, I survived. Obviously. I won, even.” I wasn’t sure who I was defending myself to because the dragon was looking at me just as judgmentally.
Homisu’s only response was to brush his finger over his ear again. He helped me into my jacket, fussing with the collar before saying, “Will that be all, Your Highness?”
“Yes, thank you.” I started to wave a hand before adjusting it to the more polite dismissal I’d finally learned to Nohe’s satisfaction. “No, wait. Can you find out what happened to Asahi—the Dog assigned as my guard? He was injured this morning.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” After a perfunctory bow, Homisu stepped around the dragon who had taken over most of the doorway before closing the door behind him. The dragon stared at me.
“Tallu won’t like it at all.” The dragon’s words were pointed, mostly because they were true.
“I fought off my own Dog. I won. I think he’ll be fine.” Even I knew those were lies.
“He doesn’t like it when you are hurt.” The dragon licked her paw like a cat, dragging the edge of it over her crest and down her neck.
“Have you ever heard of insects this big? They had many legs, and were as long as a snake, but their bodies were segmented. When inside it, they controlled a dead body. Their bites were poisonous…” I trailed off, frowning down at my hand, the skin was still markedly pink, but not the inflamed red of infection or the dark lines of poisoned blood that had radiated from Asahi’s wound.
“They had enormous eyes and were capable of speaking into my head. They had a particular thing for ears that I can only hope wasn’t sexual. ”
The dragon froze, the air around her chilling. She stared past me out the window. Her breath came in puffs of steam that turned to frost.
“You fought these things? This is why you’re bruised and injured?”
“Yes,” I said. “That and the Dog.”
“These creatures live in animalia memory. You should not risk yourself on these creatures.” Her body grew in front of my eyes, her shoulders expanding, her paws lengthening into long claws. “Their name… their name…”
She shook her head, her crest rising up around her head like a corona. Her body was the size of the doorway now. Frowning, I crossed the room to run a hand down her neck, stroking the soft puffs of fur that rose between her iridescent scales.
“What is it?” I asked quietly.
“Pah, nothing.” The dragon shook her head under my hand, and I let it fall away. “You beat the Dog?”
“The Kennelmaster was there. He protected me from the final blow.” I let my fingers drift through the soft, downy fur and then over the hard spikes that lined the dragon’s crest. She began to purr softly, crouching lower and shrinking in size so that more of her was available for petting.
“He wanted me to argue why Tallu should trust the Dogs and the Kennelmaster.”
“He came with his forces? He ran there? Or did he sneak in like the snake he is?” The dragon chuffed. “And I know serpents.”
“No one would mistake you for a snake,” I said. “A greedy pig, perhaps. A younger sibling who plays poorly with her fellows.”
She whined, but my mind circled her questions.
“He came alone.” I put together what she was implying quickly. “He came alone when he could have brought more Dogs. He came alone because he was setting up both me and Boro.”
The dragon regarded me, her prismatic eyes reflecting frost, waiting for me to make a connection she already had.