Chapter Thirteen
Varis
Varis was uncertain when the burn in his cheeks started during the ride—despite the biting cold.
All he knew was that, almost an hour later, his cheeks still did so as he tried to avoid looking at Lapryda.
He wasn’t even certain why he minded, but it was a mix of anger and his inability to say something.
What did one say to their brother-in-law?
Sorry, sir, could you turn your head a moment while I let your brother have his way?
Five minutes, Brother! I need my carriage shaken a little!
Undercarriage…
Varis nearly jumped out of his skin as a man in far-too-loose garments stood in the doorway of the sitting room they’d been surreptitiously stuffed in and cleared his throat. “Privacy, please!”
Varis balked, his voice cracking in his throat as the burning in his cheeks only intensified. The attendant standing there eyed him warily. “Pardon, Your—sir?”
The attendant glanced from one dragon to the other and back to Varis with an uncertain cast to his eyes, something in his posture feigning his unease.
“Unofficially, he’s Your Majesty,” Lapryda said.
He sat up straighter in his seat and canted his head slightly.
The chains he wore on his horns jangled so gently, and for something so beautiful and graceful, their tiny clinks came down like manacles.
They tinkled like wind chimes; only the way the wind blew would dictate whether you became useful or dessert.
“He is my mate.” Ghreid sat up in his seat. “Please refer to him as such.”
“As—as spouse?” The servant wrung his hands, the lilt of his expression twisting to a slightly uncomfortable one. Male couplings were not permitted in Monsmount, and they never allowed people to forget it.
Ghreid nodded once and hardened his expression. “Will the king see us?”
“Well, you see…” The servant opened his mouth and closed it a few times before wilting. “You won’t take no for an answer, will you? Your Majesty—ties.”
Ghreid nodded once.
“I’ll relay the message.” The attendant left, and Ghreid leaned his head back in the chair with a sigh.
“Always with the theatrics. As if I wouldn’t take my true form and demolish half the castle in search of him if he—” Ghreid paused as a silver-haired male stood in the doorway.
“I’m here, no need for that.” Who must have been the king shuffled into the room, his posture slack and eyes dogged. “To what do I owe the pleasure of not one but three dragons?”
Varis almost corrected him, but Ghreid reached over to rest his great hand over his. “I found my mate amid the wreckage. Found some interesting information out amid the wreckage—as well as my mate.”
“Do tell.” King Reigh, as far as Varis could remember, sat in an open-armed leather chair and slouched, his tone put-upon.
Ghreid relayed the tale of Varis’s journey, his identity, Varis of the third Rashiz of Kaliman.
That had Reigh’s brows shooting up, eyes blinking slowly.
“Missive will be sent on my part. If they do not respond to your authority as Saurian representative, they will surely take my word. We do a great deal of trade with them, and I believe they’ve been in turmoil and would highly miss our backing. ”
Varis nodded sagely. Kaliman had much business with Monsmount, and the two countries were military allies—though why Kaliman hadn’t rushed to defend Monsmount in the ongoing war, Varis made note to keep track of.
“And there is the matter of some recovered cargo that Varis spent two years of his life guarding—and not at my side.” Ghreid tugged Varis closer to him. “Seven bolts of Draynarian silk.”
King Reigh blinked, eyes wide. “No.”
Varis nodded sagely. “We picked it up from a port in Rammolia at the start of the journey. There were tons of paperwork issues; it had been lost and recovered at one point. It was a whole thing.”
“Well, I’ll be. My late father, King Pietr, commissioned that before the war even started.
I believe it was when Kineer’s last clutch had hatched…
yours, I believe, completing the set, as it were.
It was one hell of a gift meant to ally Sauria with us.
” Reigh held a hand over his face and laughed.
“Those are silks meant for you! They’re to complement your scales. ”
“That’s extremely generous. How come it took so long—” Ghreid sat back as Lapryda frowned.
“Well, there was a skirmish in the area, and we assumed our money had been absconded with—honestly we were flusher those days… And it’s not like gold means anything to your people—our gold at least.” Reigh sighed. “Consider it another gift. A wedding gift.”
“About when would you say this was ordered? When Ghreid and I were hatched?” Lapryda rubbed his upper lip with a frown.
“Oh, it had to have been about when Kineer and Inessa decided Mezerath would be their chosen.” Reigh frowned. “About then, I believe.”
Lapryda gave Ghreid a look full of meaning, and the two nodded at one another.
“I will take the silks and commission something lovely. Perhaps we all need garb for the impending nuptials of our dear Ghreiden…” Lapryda tapped his fingers.
“Nothing so vulgar. I’ll think on it. Certainly a wall hanging embroidered for Mezerath’s quarters that we will wait a few years to hang.
Baby dragons are hell on good tapestries. ”
“Is that all we wished to discuss?” Reigh held his hands up curiously.
“No. I wanted to hand this over to you.” Ghreid fished in a bag he’d brought with him and handed over a rolled-up sheet of parchment. King Reigh opened it carefully and squinted, reading down the page.
“The finalized document about opening up the ports?” His eyes traveled it downward. “And you’re waving Rammolian fees, too?”
A redness crept across his cheeks as Ghreid rolled his hand in a gesture for him to continue reading.
“Fees waved if they donate a day’s service… Oh, this is delightful.” A wide grin spread across his cheeks.
“Rammolians are subject to the port entry fee, an import tax of the declared value with random inspections, and they will be subject to a fee for ongoing bay cleanup and maintenance. Taxes will remain in place, but both fees will be waived upon their completion of a day of labor cleaning the bay.” Ghreid’s grin grew wide and stretched wickedly across his face.
“And it’s not even all hands. One ship must deploy at least ten men to bring back one cartload of detritus.
If word is spread, they may troll their nets coming in to dump the filth.
If we can get the bay under control, we can nip the barnacle breeding grounds and hopefully reestablish a thriving balance and get some crustaceans in to feast and provide another food source—but only after the bay is clean.
Any dumping of human waste into the bay will be fined heavily. ”
“Brilliant.” King Reigh clapped his hands.
“Your ships will also have advance missive to deploy trolling nets on their way in. I will also pay a nominal fee for anyone who can dislodge one of the ships from the stacks and bring it to the shipyards.” Ghreid leaned back in his seat, knees spread, shoulders tense.
He was so very beautiful, a graven image of a golden god.
Varis knew right then that he’d be in love in no time.
“I suppose that will have to do.” Reigh sighed heavily and rested a hand on his face. “When are the docks open?”
“We have two docks open at the moment, room for six ships. I can start taking people immediately, but let’s limit it to only necessary goods for the time being and a full ban on any military vessels.” Ghreid folded his arms and King Reigh nodded once.
“I’ll be sure to have this out to all the capitals as fast as possible. Be patient with those coming in, but it’ll take time.” King Reigh rose and gave a respectful nod. “I assume this is all?”
“It is. And also, be on the lookout for an invitation to my courtship ceremony. I’d rather have it sooner than later, and I imagine my dear mate will look different then.” Ghreid smiled, his eyes glittering bright.
“It’s all new to me, but thank you for your generosity, King Reigh.
” Varis gave an inclination of his head in a royal facsimile of respect.
“And for the silks, I thank you again. And for what it is worth, if you send word to my kin that I am alive and well—please understand that if they demand my return, I cannot and will not. Their intention is to sacrifice me to their god.”
“I will bear that in mind. You’re out of my hands, as it were. According to our laws, an ashen is to be given to Sauria.” King Reigh gave a nod and hesitated. “Rammolia may want their payment, for Asha, that is. I… I took payment for him, not knowing. I don’t have money to give them.”
“That will change soon, hopefully. Money comes where it will. Trade will resume. On my honor. A dragon profits above all, not before all.” Ghreid stood and extended a hand, taking Varis’s. “Good afternoon, King Reigh. Let us be on our way, dear.”
Lapryda stood with a flourish and chuckled. “Let’s be on our way. We have family coming in and I must be back to Sauria with my spoils.”
Ghreid pulled Varis’s hand to his lips for a soft kiss. “Have something fine made for my mate to wear. I will adore seeing him in such expensive fibers, and gold, no less.”
Lapryda chuckled, and they made their way out. “In time for the wedding or with enough room for the belly?”
Ghreid chuckled. “Up to Varis.”
“Why not both? I love Kaliman dharka.” The flowing shirts from his homeland brought a certain nostalgia back, and he longed to wear the silken fibers he’d spent so long protecting.
“With enough left over for a few egg pillows. Put your babes on display so prettily.” Lapryda waved goodbye as they made it to the stables, and they parted ways there.
“Didn’t he leave his belongings at the estate?” Varis watched Lapryda take off.
“He’ll be back before too long. He’s got enough clothes to last him.” Ghreid snorted and hefted Varis onto the wyvern’s back. “Now, about spoiling you.”
“Will Platinum mind?” Varis glanced down at the rumbling beast slithering along the ground on its forearms.
“All he knows is that I’m happy.” Ghreid ran his hands over Varis’s hips and chest before snatching the reins and clicking his tongue.
The wyvern wound around a few times, propped onto his back legs, and took off from the edge of the platform.
The sudden drop and flick of wings lurched Varis’s stomach.
And as all the blood rushed down, his cock rose to the occasion, and sky tasted better than it ever had.
Varis spread his arms and imagined wings.
“Are you happy?” Ghreid rumbled and ran his nose along Varis’s neck.
“I will be when I know how to fly.” And Varis knew it was the only truth he could tell.