Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

The gods were split-screening again. Left panel: prison book club. Right panel: Blair and the boys on a mission. The God of War had popcorn. The Goddess of Love had wine. The God of Dignity had left the room.

Then the ones watching Blair started to laugh because the princess’s reaction was identical to the reaction of her best friend who was sitting in a prison cell.

”She’s narrating EXACTLY how the wolf princess was earlier,” the God of the Hunt said.

”Rewind and pull up the side-by-side,” the God of War demanded.

Left screen: Guinevere clapping at children playing with glowing toys while Nicholas Shadowfell stood there watching her.

Right screen: Blair clapping at children playing with glowing toys while Damon Tavian stood there watching her.

Same cadence. Same wonder. Same inability to pass through a foreign civilization without narrating like it was a nature documentary.

???

SOLVEIL - ANOTHER HELIX FOUNTAIN

”The water is going UP, Blair,” Brennan called forward. ”There’s no magic here that I can feel. It’s engineering. I need to study that.”

”WOW. Really? That must have taken generations,” Blair commented before she started clapping again.

Damon was back to watching her clap.

He was watching Blair Drakencrest, daughter of the Dragon Crown, sister to the most powerful military commander on two continents, clap her hands together in a foreign street because water went the wrong direction and she thought it was wonderful. The hood he had pulled over her hair was slipping backward from the enthusiasm. The dark strands he had tucked were escaping. The glow from the fountain was hitting her face at an angle that turned her eyes from gold to something warmer and closer and more dangerous than gold.

He was in trouble.

He had known he was in trouble since the dungeon. He had known it since her hand grabbed his arm for the first time and her voice had said stay here. He had cataloged the trouble, filed it, and placed it on a shelf labeled deal with this later. Later had arrived. Later was standing in a glowing city clapping at architecture, and the shelf was on fire, and the filing system was fucked, and Damon Tavian was falling in love with a woman whose brother had tackled him to the floor six hours ago for putting a necklace on her.

Beta Draven caught it.

The observation lasted half a second. His eyes moved from Damon’s face to Blair’s hands to Damon’s face again, and the circuit completed with the quiet efficiency of a man who had been reading people for twenty years and recognized infatuation the way a jeweler recognizes a fake stone. Instantly. Definitively. Without needing to pick it up.

He said nothing. He would say nothing. What he filed away was his own business, and his business had a very long memory.

Briggs also caught it. The attorney’s mouth opened by a centimeter and closed by the same amount because Briggs was learning, very quickly, that this delegation operated on rules he had never encountered in any legal briefing and the safest strategy was to watch and shut up and bill by the hour.

Another child sprinted past. This one was carrying two balls. Both glowing. One in each hand. The sparks trailed behind in a double helix that spiraled upward and dissolved into the dark sky like fireworks designed for an audience of one very impressed princess.

Blair’s clapping intensified.

Brennan matched her rhythm from the back. The synchronization was accidental and immediate and produced a sound that turned four more heads on the street.

”I want one of those,” Brennan announced.

”You are a grown man, Brennan,” Damon said without turning around.

”I am a grown man who wants a glowing ball, Damon. Those two things can coexist.”

Blair looked over her shoulder at Brennan. Brennan looked at Blair. The glance lasted one second and contained the mutual recognition of two people who had been strangers twelve hours ago and were now clapping together in a foreign city because a child ran past them holding light in its hands and both of them thought it was the most incredible thing they had ever seen.

”I also want one,” Blair said.

Damon closed his eyes for one full second while he walked.

”We are here on a legal extraction mission,” he reminded himself along with everyone else. ”We are retrieving a prisoner. We are collecting discovery documents. We are conducting diplomacy on behalf of two kingdoms.” He opened his eyes. ”We are not shopping for toys.”

”Not with that attitude we’re not,” Blair stated.

Brennan raised his hand. ”Bulk discount if you buy five over there at that vendor. Everyone here can have one.”

”We are not buying five.”

”Four?”

”Zero, Brennan.”

”Blair, he said zero.”

”I heard him. He’s wrong.”

”He seems pretty firm.”

”So am I,” she said, shooting Damon a look of pure determination.

”After the extraction,” he conceded. ”We will come back.”

”Before.”

”After.”

”During.”

”You cannot shop during an extraction, Blair.”

”I cannot buy a ball on our way to a prison? Something that would take literally two seconds.”

”You could. But then you would have to carry it,” Damon said flatly.

Blair glanced over her shoulder. ”Brennan, if we pass a vendor, can you portal a ball back to Drakencrest?”

”Absolutely. Small objects are easy. I once portaled a sandwich across a continent,” Brennan answered, voice firm.

Briggs cleared his throat. ”For the record, I can draft a procurement authorization for foreign goods if that expedites the discussion.”

Every head turned to the attorney.

”Don’t encourage her,” Damon said.

”I’m not encouraging. I’m facilitating. That’s my job.”

Blair looked at Briggs with new respect. ”We’re keeping him.” Then she flashed another grin up at Damon. ”Now you’re just being stubborn because you don’t want to be wrong.”

Damon opened his mouth. Closed it. He had already gotten her one and had been planning on surprising her with it but was now looking like a jackass.

He pulled a small glowing ball out of his cloak and handed it to her. ”This was my leverage to get you on date number two.”

Blair looked at the ball. Looked at Damon. Looked at the ball again. Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. For the second time tonight, Blair Drakencrest was speechless, and this time it wasn’t the city that did it.

”You already had one.”

”I already had one.”

”When?”

”Multitasking, Princess. I do it too sometimes.”

Behind them, Beta Draven’s lips twitched. The twitch was involuntary, microscopic, and the closest thing to a smile the man had produced in the last six hours. He smothered it before it could become evidence.

Blair faced forward again. Her hood had slipped fully off. Her dark hair caught the city’s glow and threw it back in threads of gold that made her look like she belonged here, which she did, because Blair Drakencrest belonged in every room she entered and this city was just the latest to figure that out.

”Fine. High ground,” she said, refocusing. ”Citadel. Let’s move.”

She pulled Damon forward.

Brennan fell back into step behind Beta Draven, still grinning, still looking at every glowing surface like a man who had been handed the keys to a museum and told he could touch everything.

”Beta Draven,” Briggs said.

”Yes.”

”This city is incredible.”

Beta Draven looked at the stone glowing beneath their boots. Then at another fountain that was still spiraling water upward behind them like a middle finger aimed at gravity.

”It’s something,” he agreed.