Chapter 9
“Are you going to post that as well as your letter?” Sylin asked as she and Rylana jogged along the lakefront, the Tranquility post office their destination.
“This?” Rylana tapped the horn bouncing on her chest. She’d found a piece of twine and tied it so she could carry it across her body like a tote and not lose it.
Maybe it wasn’t wise to wear it openly, but if the dwarves trying to get ahold of it knew she had it with her, they ought to be less likely to ransack the diner searching for it.
“Yes, that.”
“I’ve got a drawing to send along with my letter.” Rylana held up the envelope she’d already sealed. “I would be afraid to post something magical. What if it exploded or started shooting deadly rays while in the pack of a poor messenger carrying the parcel on the back of a donkey?”
“Judging by how much detail you put into describing that scenario, you’ve already imagined it.”
“Maybe not exactly, but similar concerns are why I haven’t given the horn to my brother. Though I wouldn’t mind getting it off my hands.”
“Hence why you’ve tied it to your chest.”
“I thought about throwing it in the lake.” Rylana had considered that numerous times the night before while she’d been cleaning the storeroom.
“And yet…” Sylin extended her hand toward the horn.
“And yet.” Rylana shrugged, not certain why she was hesitant to discard it. Maybe because she didn’t want a bunch of shifty dwarves to get it.
“You could do some independent research on it. Maybe it’s mentioned in a dwarven history tome in the university library.”
“I do enjoy research. I’m hesitant to leave the diner for long though.”
“Are your ledgers in an execrable state?”
“No, but a new dragon came by this morning. Jildarin walked off with her, was gone an hour, and, when he came back, he was pensive and didn’t say much. He went to the kitchen to start preparing for the lunch service.”
“Was it a female dragon? Not one of the sisters, I assume, or you would have said so.”
“I hadn’t seen her before. He called her… Killaynia, I think it was.”
“Was she beautiful?”
“They’re all beautiful when they take human form. Or, in this case, elven form. They seem oblivious or indifferent to what our peoples like and value, but they all know how to make themselves sexy.”
“A dragon would probably think it beneath him or her to take an unappealing form.” Sylin pointed at a sign for the post office, and they turned off the waterfront street to jog uphill.
“She didn’t glare daggers in my direction, so I’m telling myself not to worry about it. If she was another threat I needed to watch out for, Jildarin would have warned me. And ordered me to stay close to him.”
“Something that’s probably easier to do when you know where he is. How’d he miss the arrival of the fire-breathing sisters last night?”
“I didn’t get the full story, but I think he might have been proving himself to my father. Or trying. That’s not something my brother or I ever managed to do.”
“Your father must think favorably of you if he wants you to take over the family business.”
“He just wants me to work in it, not take it over. The last I heard, when my cousin visited, was that he’s hoping I’ll marry someone appropriate and have smart babies who grow up academically and entrepreneurially inclined. Then one of them could take over the business.”
“Is a dragon appropriate?”
“I... don’t know. I’m fairly certain we couldn’t have offspring though.” Rylana recalled Captain Tassani sharing a story of an elf ruler in the deep past who’d been part dragon, but that had sounded more like a legend than historical fact.
“Not without involving magic, no. And possibly test tubes and laboratories.”
“Romantic.”
“Practical.”
“It’s a little early to talk about offspring,” Rylana said. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”
“Which makes the use of laboratories even more practical.”
“Is it strange that I’m happy you didn’t leave me to go south to assume your role as elf princess?”
“No, my company and wise counsel are a great boon to your life.”
They slowed down as they reached the post office.
A wooden boardwalk with hitching posts stretched across the front, and a great loading yard took up the back, wagons rolling out at that moment.
Sylin leaned her elbow on a newspaper dispenser and nodded that she would wait outside.
An orc tripped and almost fell off the boardwalk while looking at her—probably enraptured by her great elven beauty—and she put her hood up.
Rylana walked inside without causing anyone of the opposite sex to fall over.
She’d never tried to mail a letter to royalty before and braced herself to receive a hard time from the clerk.
But the female gnome accepting packages, letters, and coins didn’t bat an eye.
Maybe people sent mail to kings and queens all the time.
If that was true, Rylana wouldn’t hold her breath waiting for a reply.
The dwarven king might have multiple lackeys who vetted his mail.
“This can arrive in one week or two days,” the clerk said in a bored tone. She was perched on a platform that put her eyes even with Rylana’s across the counter, all manner of stamps and ink pads arrayed in front of her. “Depending on if you want to spend four coppers or four silver.”
“Two days is pretty fast.” Rylana opted for the silver investment, even though she doubted anything would come of the letter. “Are dragons involved?”
“Teams of thoroughbred horses changed out at outposts along the way. If you can find a dragon to help us with mail delivery, I’ll pay you.”
“Should business ever slow down at the diner, I’ll let Jildarin know there might be a position here for him.”
“Chef Jildarin? The winner of the Golden Whisk?” The gnome clerk had appeared bored before, but her eyes brightened and she looked at Rylana’s face for the first time.
“Yes. I’m his business partner.”
“That’s amazing. He’s amazing. I was at the Golden Whisk and got to try a few tidbits of his second dish.
I don’t even like orcish fieldthrash and octopus, but the food was so good.
I’m going to carve out a portion of my next paycheck, hand the kids to my in-laws to watch, and take my husband to the Dragon Diner for a romantic meal.
If we can get in. Are you really his partner?
Do you get to taste everything he makes? ”
“Yes and yes. Even the things involving spruce tips, glowing eels, and other quirky ingredients.”
“Amazing,” she said again, oozing reverence. “I’ve heard about the eels. He smokes them, doesn’t he? Smoked eels are the best.”
“Come by the diner one night, and I’ll give you a discount.” Rylana thought their prices were reasonable but didn’t imagine postal clerks made a fortune.
“That would be amazing.” The gnome clearly had a favorite word.
Rylana hadn’t made the offer expecting special service, but after stamping the location on the envelope, the clerk selected more stamps. Priority. Very important. A sticker she added to the back was of a wyvern with wings.
“Thank you,” Rylana said as the clerk walked the letter past two large bins where she’d been tossing other packages and set it in a small box.
Rylana had no idea if it would get there any faster—even relays of thoroughbreds could only travel so swiftly—but maybe the extra stamps would at least get the dwarf who accepted the king’s mail to put it on the top of the stack.
“Did your family name get your letter into a priority bin?” Sylin asked when she returned.
To Rylana’s surprise, Captain Tassani stood beside Sylin. Rylana hadn’t seen him since they’d had a brief coffee date.
“Actually, mentioning Jildarin’s smoked eels did,” Rylana said.
“Eels are known to be catnip to postal workers.” Tassani spread his cloak wide and bowed to her. “Good afternoon, Rylana. I don’t suppose your dragon partner has turned his attention to another or that you’ve decided pointed ears are sexier than pointed tails.”
“Neither,” Rylana said.
“Alas.”
“I thought you showed up to talk to me, Captain,” Sylin said dryly.
“Your stern aloofness has never suggested that you would be interested in dating me, Your Highness.”
“Call me that again, and I’ll skewer you with my favorite knife.”
“Stern,” Tassani repeated, nodding at Rylana.
“She prefers to go by Sylin.”
“Until a couple of weeks ago, Sylin was all I knew,” she grumbled. “And, yes, it’s what I prefer.”
“Of course.” Tassani bowed to her.
“What brings you by, Captain?” Rylana asked.
When she’d walked out, Tassani and Sylin had been talking about something. Though Sylin had purchased a newspaper and tucked it under her arm, Rylana doubted it was a desire to learn the coming month’s dwarven opera schedule that had brought the elven captain to her side.
“I’d been looking for… Lady Sylin.” Tassani eyed her warily to see if she would object to that name. Maybe calling her Sylin didn’t seem professional enough.
“He’s politely letting me know what I’ve suspected,” Sylin said, “that members of the Shaldona family continue to object to my existence.”
“As far as I’ve heard,” Tassani said, “nobody is trying to kill you at this time. Before leaving, the queen forbade it, and I understand she’s left a number of loyal secret agents to keep an eye on the elven enclave and its residents to ensure you’re not targeted.”
“Do you understand that because you’re one of those agents?” Rylana guessed.
“Secret agents must not reveal their status,” Tassani said but bowed again to her.
“Of course not.”
“As I was telling Lady Sylin, I’ve not seen or heard anything to suggest assassins or snipers will attack her again, but there’s a rumor going around that well-pedigreed male elves living in the city are forbidden from having relations of any kind with her.”
Rylana blinked. “Pardon?”
“They don’t want me zerging with any aristocratic male elves and having children who might be suitable candidates to rule the elven kingdom after the queen’s passing,” Sylin said.
Tassani nodded.
“I’m terribly disappointed,” Sylin added. “My libido has been humming lately, and I’d been thinking about streaking naked through the elven enclave and flinging my womb at any available male I encounter.”
Tassani’s jaw descended. He managed to close it, but it descended again.
“That’s quite the image,” Rylana said.
“I appreciate the warning—I think,” Sylin said to Tassani, “but you can tell that family that I’m not shopping for an elf lover.”
“She’s dating a dragon currently,” Rylana said, then regretted teasing her.
They’d spoken before about this very possibility, that Sylin might be targeted because someone worried about the potential for her to have offspring that the elven court would find more palatable than she would be, at least insofar as future rulers of the realm went.
Tassani’s jaw lowered again.
“I’m not dating anyone,” Sylin said.
“I, ah, will inform those who might have been concerned.” Tassani nodded to her. “I just wanted to warn you so you would be aware that there will likely continue to be elves monitoring you, at least on some level, for…” He turned his palm skyward.
“The rest of my life?” Sylin grimaced.
“It’s possible.”
She sighed.
Tassani waved a farewell to them and returned to patrolling the city.
“Don’t worry. Given your line of work, you probably won’t live that long.” Rylana thumped Sylin on the shoulder.
She’d meant it as a joke, but Sylin looked a little heartened. “That’s true. Oh.” Sylin removed the newspaper from under her arm and offered it. “I thought you might like to see this.”
On the front page, an article read: Dragon Attack Decimates Pirates Harrying Freighters in the Hurricane Hells Straits.
Rylana slumped against a lamppost. Even before reading the first paragraph that described how the pirates had a long history of targeting Sun Whale ships, in particular, she knew what had happened.
“I guess that explains why he wasn’t around when the dragon sisters came to harass us,” Sylin said, apparently guessing the same.
Jildarin wasn’t mentioned specifically in the article, but whoever had reported the incident had described a sleek and majestic silver dragon with emerald eyes. Rylana had no doubts about the identity.
“I need to speak with my father,” she said.