Chapter 18
Once a year the Royal Show was the toast of the Kingdom of Shinael and, as its capital, Tesh gave itself over to celebrations of all that was the very best of the realm – science, art, music, and most of all, it seemed, teacup dragons.
The Teacup Dragon Fanciers’ Association, domain of Lady Virginia Moorland and her ilk, ran the competition with a rod of iron.
How Iris had persuaded the queen to allow them to be involved Portia had no idea, but here they were, moving into their old residence of Starling House which had been made available to them by royal decree.
There were dustsheets and mothballs everywhere and without a host of servants to run the wretched place, Portia felt horribly overwhelmed.
Worse, it was like stepping back into those nightmare days when she had lost absolutely everything.
There were still portraits of her forebears on the walls and the one which hung in the formal parlour was the worst of all.
Her mother and father, young and beautiful and so deeply in love on their wedding day, looked down on her as if they believed in her where she could not.
‘There now,’ said Iris affectionately. ‘Still watching over you, aren’t they?’
Portia couldn’t find an answer to that. She reached up to pet Jade as if the poor little creature was the security blanket Iris had once accused her of needing, and Jade snuggled in against her, trying to give her the reassurance she so deeply craved.
‘Better get an early night,’ Iris went on. ‘It’s been a long day getting here and it will be all go when the competition starts tomorrow. Where has Noah got to?’
She wandered off in search of her errant vet.
Portia knew Noah was still avoiding her of course, not that she could really blame him for that.
He had his work cut out for him with the five dragons they had brought to enter into the show.
Jade remained with Portia, but Ripple, Glitter and the others flocked around him constantly and he paid every attention to them, still wary of their conditions, as if he was not entirely convinced that the elixir had done its work.
And being here, in a grand house in Tesh – even one that had seen far better days – surrounded by reminders of all her family was and he was not, wouldn’t help one bit.
She didn’t know how to tell him that none of it mattered to her.
It mattered to him and she didn’t see how they could get past that.
Besides, soon enough, he would leave for good. He was only here because Iris insisted. And for the sake of the dragons.
Wearily, dreading the next few days, Portia headed to her bedroom.
* * *
When they walked into the exhibition hall the first morning of the Royal Show, it was all Portia could do not to turn tail and run.
Not that she would desert her great-aunt.
As Iris checked them in and found their exhibition area, a tent-like structure which they could use as their base, Portia fretted, watching the curious faces that passed by.
Rumours were clearly spreading. The Starlings were back.
They had rescue dragons and had thought to enter them in the competition. It was scandalous.
Iris directed them to hang up a banner. The Starling Island Sewing Circle had made it for her under Margery’s supervision, and it was a beautiful thing, glittering with sumptuous threads and little beads worked through the needlework so it glittered as it caught the light.
Embroidered dragons flew in and out of the words ‘The Starling Island Teacup Dragon Sanctuary’.
Ophelia had carefully designed and printed piles of little flyers about their work in the sanctuary and Portia had been tasked with arranging them on the table at the front of the tent, so people could take them as they passed.
With Jade cavorting around the place in excitement at all the activity around her, they were drawing a lot of attention, even more so when Ripple started singing or Rusty decided to do loop-the-loops around the passers-by.
Giggling children gathered around to watch the teacup dragons’ antics, and used to the children of the island now, the dragons delighted them with interaction, all carefully supervised by Noah.
Elsewhere, held in travel cases, or secured by firm hands on jesses, the teacup dragons brought to the show by other breeders, handlers and enthusiasts made the occasional mournful murmur but didn’t attract the same attention as those from Starling Island.
More people gathered at the tent as the day progressed, peppering Noah with questions or engaging Iris in conversation and Portia did her best to hang back, dreading the moment when someone finally denounced them for the crime of daring to come back here. Because sooner or later, she was sure—
‘What a beautiful fenland,’ said a deep, resonant voice.
‘Is she truly a rescue? The sheen on her scales is excellent.’ Portia started.
She hadn’t heard anyone approaching her but the man who had dipped his head to step in their tent was tall and imposing.
She couldn’t imagine him moving in complete silence.
But that seemed to be the case. He was richly dressed and carried a walking stick with a silver head and tip.
He had silver hair that swept artfully back from a high smooth brow, and lines crinkled in the corners of his grey eyes.
He wore an elaborate frock coat of blue and gold brocade and a fine silk waistcoat to match.
He tipped his hat as Portia turned to face him and gave a respectful bow.
Jade, perched on Portia’s shoulder, rose on her hind legs, spread her wings wide as if expecting to be admired and trilled at him in delight when he obliged. The man laughed.
‘Truly a delight,’ he said. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ambassador Gilden. I am honoured to be amongst the judges this year.’
‘Portia Starling,’ Portia said and shook his hand, more startled than she could say to meet him.
Gilden… she knew that name, didn’t she? It was familiar.
Ambassador to where, she wondered, but it would be rude to ask and he hadn’t offered that information.
Just that he was one of the judges. ‘Jade is a rescue,’ she went on hastily. ‘They all are.’
‘Their health and condition are remarkable. I haven’t seen such fine dragons in quite some time. And you see no need to confine them. They must be happy indeed to stay so close. A true bond. The others’ – he gestured out to the surrounding tents – ‘seem to require a much more controlling hand.’
‘We find that they bond more readily with us if they are given their liberty. They stay close by choice. Let me introduce you to my great-aunt and our vet. They’d be happy to explain—’
‘Gilden?’ Iris exclaimed. ‘Gilden, what on earth are you doing here?’
‘I’m the ambassador now, Iris, my dear.’ He laughed, a broad, booming sound which made half those gathered near turn to look at the two of them. ‘Trying to set things back on a more even footing.’
‘Goodness me.’ Iris beamed up at him, looking for all the world like a girl again.
‘So high and mighty now? I wouldn’t have thought they’d let you across the border.
How did you manage that? Did you grow wings?
’ There was a teasing note in her voice which took Portia aback.
Iris clearly knew the man, but from where?
‘And I thought you had vowed never to leave your island again,’ Gilden went on. ‘And this, Iris? This is extraordinary. What secret of dragon care have you uncovered now?’
‘Ah.’ Iris tapped her nose. ‘That would be telling. And it was my great-niece who made the breakthrough. Portia here. She and our Dr Turner have been transformative for our little flight. I don’t know what I would do without them. But you – where have you been, my old friend?’
He offered her his arm. ‘I will tell you all, if you would care to join me for afternoon tea?’
Iris glanced beseechingly at Portia who just nodded, bewildered. If Iris wanted to go and catch up with an old friend who was she to stand in the way. She was still trying to figure out where she had heard his name before, or why Iris looked giddy as a schoolgirl with her first boyfriend.
The two of them swept off together, talking animatedly and Portia was left staring after them.
‘Who was that?’ Noah asked.
Portia jumped. She’d thought he was still busy with the dragons, but they had settled themselves on a perch near the front of the tent, with a tray of dates to keep them occupied, still attracting attention and loving every second.
Noah’s hair was a bit dishevelled, she thought absently.
Glitter had taken to ruffling his curls at every available opportunity, as if she was trying to groom him. He took it in gentle good faith.
She felt an urge to run her fingers through his soft hair herself.
Noah wore his best suit. She’d last seen it when he first arrived on the island, she recalled now, when he had been hoping to make a good impression with Iris, unaware who Portia was.
This was just as important for him, Portia realised.
The Royal Show was a tremendous opportunity.
He was showcasing his abilities as a vet being here with them.
It might be a terrible idea, but they had to make the most of it.
Each of them wanted something different.
Iris wanted to prove that the sanctuary was doing vital work.
Noah wanted to demonstrate that his kindlier methods for the care of the dragons was superior.
And Portia… well, word of the elixir was already spreading through the attendees and the questions had started as well.
‘What on earth are they doing here?’ a voice boomed across the tent. ‘Look at this. A sanctuary indeed. More like an island exile for misfits. Just like her whole sorry family. What a joke.’