The Dragon Warlord's Silent Bride

DIANA’S POV

The resin report had given Diana another question instead of an answer.

By the next morning, six years of Vharos’s trend records covered the narrow worktable outside his secured cavern gate.

Master Clair and Healer Lou had refused her request for the complete medical file. Raigoro had asked what information she actually needed instead.

That had been considerably more annoying because it forced Diana to decide.

WHEN HE BECAME WORSE.

Then:

WHEN HE BECAME BETTER.

Those records, apparently, she could have.

Monthly summaries covered the table now: major treatment changes, old injuries, feeding problems, periods when Vharos became too weak for ordinary exercise, temporary recoveries, and stretches when he refused food for days before improving again.

Diana had already known he had been ill for years. Seeing those years together established something more personal.

Whatever effect her presence had on him now, she had not caused the illness to begin.

She began by separating the sharpest declines from the slower ones. Beside several dates, the summaries already mentioned Ashen activity or bond strain. Other entries assumed the reader knew what had been happening outside the cavern.

Diana did not.

She marked those dates instead of guessing at them.

Several pages refused to fit even that much. Vharos had worsened without any Ashen notation, improved during periods that looked difficult, and gone through shorter declines with no cause recorded at all.

Diana made a second pile for those.

Master Clair stood beside the table, watching her sort the pages without offering an answer.

She looked at the two piles.

One contained dates that might connect to something outside Vharos’s body.

The other contained dates she could not explain.

Neither pile deserved a conclusion yet.

That, unfortunately, was beginning to feel normal.

Diana pointed to the first marked entry.

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED HERE.

”Military records may answer some of them.”

She pointed to another notation.

BOND STRAIN.

Master Clair nodded.

”That one will not.”

There was only one person who could answer it.

Diana hesitated, then wrote:

IF HIS GRACE IS AVAILABLE, CAN SOMEONE ASK WHETHER HE CAN ANSWER QUESTIONS ABOUT VHAROS?

Master Clair read it.

”You can ask him yourself.”

Diana looked at him.

Master Clair appeared entirely unmoved by rank, marriage, or Diana’s opinion of either.

”You are already married to him.”

That was not the same as Raigoro having nothing else to do.

Diana amended the line.

WHEN HE IS AVAILABLE.

Master Clair handed the note to a keeper passing the gate.

”Send that to Command Terrace.”

Raigoro arrived a few minutes later carrying two military reports.

Diana looked up.

That was faster than she had expected. She had expected an answer, perhaps a time, or a message saying Command Terrace had more urgent problems.

She had not necessarily expected Raigoro himself.

He sat across from her.

”You requested me.”

Well, perhaps Vharos was reason enough for him to come so quickly.

Diana slid one medical summary toward him.

The year had been marked along the top. Halfway down the page, Vharos’s condition deteriorated sharply over thirteen days.

Poor feeding.

Irregular sleep.

Pain severe enough that two scheduled flights were canceled.

Bond strain noted by Raigoro.

Diana pointed to the date.

WHAT HAPPENED HERE?

Raigoro read it.

”The East Ashen breach.”

Diana waited.

He added, ”Three ward stations failed within two days. We held the inner line for nearly three weeks.”

She marked the margin.

ASHEN BREACH.

Then moved to another page.

Two years later.

Another sudden decline.

This one lasted nearly a month. WHAT HAPPENED?

Raigoro looked at the date.

”Winter campaign beyond North Hold.”

”Severe fighting?” Master Clair asked.

”Yes.”

Diana wrote: CAMPAIGN.

A third page.

Vharos had remained stable for several months, then dropped sharply over less than a week.

Raigoro’s expression changed before she asked.

”That was me.”

”I was injured.”

HOW BADLY?

”Enough.”

Diana continued looking at him.

Raigoro sighed.

”Deep wound through the left side. Blood loss.”

Master Clair looked at him.

”You described that remarkably poorly.”

”I survived.”

”That is not a measurement.”

Diana lowered her head before either man saw her expression.

Apparently Master Clair’s methods extended beyond dragons when necessary.

She wrote: RAIGORO INJURED.

Diana arranged the marked pages beside one another.

The worst drops were not equal.

Some were shorter.

Some far more severe.

Vharos also had bad periods that did not correspond neatly with anything Raigoro remembered.

Diana noticed those too.

She separated them rather than forcing them into the pile.

Raigoro watched.

”What are those?”

She wrote: DO NOT FIT.

”Keep them.”

Diana nodded.

Master Clair took one of the pages from the first group.

”So what do you think the pattern means?”

Diana looked at:

Ashen breach.

Campaign.

Raigoro injured.

The first explanation that occurred to Diana was far too convenient.

Vharos worsened when Blackharrow was threatened.

The dragon somehow carried the Ashen Gate inside his body.

Diana had spent too many days with Master Clair to trust the sentence merely because it sounded important.

She wrote instead: HIS WORST PERIODS OFTEN HAPPEN DURING ASHEN OR BOND STRAIN.

Diana looked again at the pages that did not fit and added one word beneath her conclusion.

OFTEN.

Master Clair read it and left the qualification where she had put it.

Raigoro looked toward the marked dates.

”It is still worth preserving.”

Raigoro tapped the pages.

”If someone reported that three enemy patrols appeared before three separate ward failures, I would not call that causation either.”

He moved one of the unmatched records beside the others.

”I would still remember it.”

Diana studied the page.

The pages still did not explain Vharos, but the question had narrowed.

Diana preferred that to another unexplained heat beneath her throat. She had contributed by reading carefully, and the work remained useful even when the dragonstone did nothing.

Daric entered carrying a sealed foreign letter.

He looked at the table.

”Have I interrupted another argument about evidence?”

”Yes,” Raigoro said.

Daric placed the letter before him.

”Merovia.”

Diana’s attention sharpened despite herself.

Raigoro broke the seal and read.

His expression gave her nothing.

Daric explained.

”Merovia has identified the transferred Blackharrow embassy collection in the provincial repository.”

Raigoro looked at him.

”The relevant years?”

”Not confirmed yet. Their archivists have begun inspecting the collection. Some boxes were resealed after an old roof leak, and anything useful will still require authentication before it travels.”

”Timeline?”

”They refuse to guess.”

Reasonable, and irritating.

Daric gathered the foreign correspondence.

The boxes existed.

Whatever they contained would take time.

Diana looked back at the Vharos records spread across the table.

For once, waiting for an answer did not mean having nothing useful to do until it arrived.