Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
Caolan
A blur of movement races down the hallway toward us, skidding to a stop only feet away in the form of blond-haired, hazel-eyed, innocent-faced trouble. I press my lips firmly together to hold in my groan. Garin is not so circumspect, audibly sighing.
“Are these the Earthlings? They are , aren’t they? They’re so exotic!” Dustin reaches out as though to touch, and Gideon moves forward in front of David, suddenly seeming much bigger—and scarier.
Dustin’s eyes widen, and for one hopeful moment, I think he’s going to withdraw instead of embarrassing us.
It’s a moment of delusion.
“ Look at you! Are those horns real? Are you a shifter too? How did you get so big? Can I touch your muscles? Are you that big all over ?”
David makes a sound, but when I look over at him, his face is calm and untroubled. That doesn’t stop me from wishing that Dustin didn’t have a translator spell. I could save this situation if only they couldn’t understand him.
Well… maybe.
“I bet you are big all over. You can show me, if you like. I love big men.” He bats his eyelashes in a way that makes me wish the roof would collapse just to provide a distraction from this agonizing moment.
How will our guests ever take us seriously after this?
“And big men love me. I have skills, and I’m very bendy. ”
Gideon, to his credit, remains stone-faced as he says, “I’m in a committed relationship.”
Dustin leans in and licks his lips. “How committed?”
Garin slaps a hand over Dustin’s mouth before he can say anything else.
Technically, touching him like that is a breach of protocol, but it’s probably the only thing that’s going to stop Gideon from harming him, and since protection from harm is one of the few reasons permitted for breaching protocol, there shouldn’t be consequences.
“Very committed,” Gideon growls, looming in an extremely intimidating manner. If I were Dustin, I’d be terrified. Unfortunately, he just looks more excited.
“They’re paired souls,” I hiss before he can wriggle away from Garin’s hand and make this even worse.
Then I turn back to scary Gideon and trying-not-to-laugh David—I can see the twinkle in his eyes—and say, “Please forgive Dustin for his forward and outlandish behavior. He’s young still and very…
excited by the prospect of meeting new people.
Perhaps a formal introduction?” I shoot a sideways glare at Dustin, who looks rather chastened now.
Possibly because I pointed out how young he is.
He likes to pretend he’s a sophisticate…
although his habit of behaving like a spoiled adolescent usually gives him away.
Garin gingerly removes his hand from Dustin’s mouth, hesitating for a second before taking it away, just in case the young one decides to say something else.
“Prince Dustin, grandson of the dragon wing leader, I have the pleasure of introducing you to David Carew and Gideon Bailey, ambassadors for Lucifer Percy of Earth.”
David and Gideon both incline their heads just as I showed them to.
“It’s very good to meet you,” Dustin says, sounding more subdued than before. I know him well enough to know that won’t last, so I don’t allow any time for the conversation to restart.
“King Raeulfr is waiting for us. Your grandfather is there also?” I ask, gesturing for us all to begin walking again.
“Yes,” Dustin says. “Uh… could you tell them that you requested my presence when you arrived?”
David coughs. I resist the urge to close my eyes. This is not how I wanted him to see me, having to manage and pander to a spoiled prince.
“Why would we do that?”
“No reason. Just because I want them to know I have friends. And that you value me as an ambassador of dragonkind. Yes, that’s a good reason.
Tell them you thought I’d give our guests a strongly positive impression of dragons and invited me to meet them before the formalities began.
” He beams at me, clearly not registering any irony in this situation.
Garin chuckles, shaking his head and leaving the mess to me.
“Do you really think I can tell a lie like that with a straight face?” I could, but… “And do you really think I should lie to my king without good reason?”
He pouts. “You’re so mean. I made a good impression. Right?” He turns to look at Gideon but continues before anyone can answer. “And there is too a good reason.”
“You haven’t told it to me yet,” I remind him.
He doesn’t reply. We’re getting closer to the king’s sitting room. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten—
“They treat me like a baby,” he blurts in elvish, his face flushing as he darts a glance over his shoulder at our guests.
“Maybe you shouldn’t behave like one,” I reply, then feel bad.
“They’re very protective of you,” I add.
“It’s only natural that they want to make sure you’re safe.
” We have so very few dragons left, and we’ve lost thousands of fledglings in recent times, most of them not yet even old enough to fly. It was a devastating day.
“It’s not that,” he says miserably, and I almost feel sorry for him.
“I understand them wanting to protect me. But they won’t let me help .
Anytime I ask to be assigned a job, they tell me not to worry about it.
And this morning, they banished me from this meeting.
As though I can’t be trusted to contribute something useful! ”
I glance at the door to the king’s sitting room, just feet away, and wonder how I can possibly handle this—and why it got dumped on me. The life force has a wicked sense of humor.
“Have you considered,” I begin, trying not to sound impatient and bring on a tantrum, “that the best way to show your grandfather and the king that you can contribute something useful is to not cause problems?”
“I don’t cause problems!” he declares indignantly.
“Yes, you do. The very first thing you did upon encountering ambassadors from another dimension—a dimension that is our only hope of survival—was to make embarrassing sexual innuendoes to someone who clearly indicated he was not receptive to them. We can only hope that they’re not so offended that they withdraw their offer of sanctuary.
” I know them well enough by now to know they wouldn’t do that for so minor an offense, but Dustin needs to understand that his actions have consequences.
Young dragons are by nature very capricious and excitable, but if Dustin wants to be given responsibility, he needs to learn when that kind of behavior is acceptable and when it’s not.
His eyes widen, and he looks over my shoulder to where our guests are standing a polite few feet away. “They wouldn’t, would they?” he whispers.
“I don’t believe so,” I concede. “But you had no way of knowing that. And whether they would or wouldn’t, your greeting to them was inappropriate.”
Heaving a sigh, he scowls. “You can’t lecture me like you’re my family,” he mutters.
I fold my arms over my chest and wait. Technically, he’s right—he outranks me by a lot. But we both know his grandfather holds me in high esteem and would trust me to correct his behavior in this situation.
“Well, fine, you can,” he grumbles. “But don’t do it in public or other people will get the idea they can too.”
Garin snorts, proving that he’s been listening even while speaking to our guests.
“Apologize to Gideon and then go,” I tell Dustin. “If the subject happens to come up, I’ll say we ran into you in the hallway, but I won’t mention what an ass you made of yourself.”
He glares indignantly but doesn’t object to being called an ass. Instead, he sniffs, then plasters on a charming smile and turns toward the Earthlings, switching back to English.
“Please accept my apologies for my untoward actions. I respect your commitment to your partner and regret if I have made your visit uncomfortable. We are all most grateful to you for your offers of assistance in our time of need, and so pleased and excited to resurrect contact between our peoples.” He finishes with a polite bow.
This Dustin is going to be an excellent statesman and leader someday. He just needs to grow up first. If he modeled this behavior more frequently, instead of only showing his grandfather and the king his immaturity, they would gladly accept his offers of assistance.
Gideon doesn’t say anything, but the lines of his perpetual scowl soften slightly. David smiles and returns the bow. “Thank you, Your Highness. Your apology is most gracious, and we accept.”
Dustin opens his mouth—probably to say that dragons don’t use formal modes of address—but the door to the king’s sitting room begins to open, and he yelps and takes off down the hall.
His grandfather, Wing Leader Brandt—tall, with silvering dark hair and an austere-looking face but mischievously twinkling eyes—appears in the doorway.
“Caolan,” he says warmly, thankfully not seeming to notice that his only remaining grandson just fled the scene, “welcome back. Why are you standing here in the hall?” His translator spell is absolutely flawless—I can’t tell the difference between his English and that of the native speakers I’ve spent the last few days talking to.
Admittedly, he’s somewhere in the vicinity of thirty thousand years old and has had a lot of time to work on such things, but still…
the only exposure he’s had to English was when he asked me to speak it to him for a short time yesterday.
For the spell to not need more adjustment time is just… astounding.
I hold back my inner desire to gush over his magnificence and incline my head in greeting. “We stopped to talk to Dustin,” I say truthfully.
Immediately, his expression darkens, but it’s underlaid with the fond exasperation we all feel when dealing with Dustin. He’s a nuisance, but a loveable one. “Did he accost you?”