“Not at all, dear,” Arleth told me in a kind voice, so different than when she was speaking to Nyfain earlier. “We’ll start training as soon as you are well. Nyfain will have his warrior queen, but she won’t have to crash into anything.”
“Hold her head, Nyfain,” Hannon instructed, forgetting to use his title.
Nyfain didn’t hesitate, angling me so Hannon could nurse me more efficiently.
“I’d rather be the one under his care,” Nyfain murmured. “It means you would be spared this pain, baby.”
Arleth picked up the pestle and smelled it. She scanned the ingredients I’d used, her brow pinching. She had no idea what this elixir was.
It was going to blow her mind, I knew it.
Hopefully after it saved me.
SIXTEEN
Finley
Sleep receded slowly, pulled back from my mind like a blanket. Softness enveloped me, supporting my body and my head, lying heavily over me. I breathed in slowly, savoring the sweet, floral scent of the air.
Blinking my eyes open, I saw an arrangement of roses on the little table beside my bed, the crimson petals glistening with beads of water. At the base was a note, my name written in a familiar, eloquent scrawl.
I smiled but knew better than to reach for Nyfain’s letter with a greedy snatch. Something would undoubtedly hurt if I did that. Instead, I slowly pushed back the covers and fingered the soft cloth draping over my body. Someone had cleaned me up and dressed me.
“Good morning, my darling.”
Hadriel sat in a chair across the room, his pink-clad ankle resting on a black-clad knee. A simple black jacket covered his torso, the lapels velvet but matching the rest.
“No penis jacket this time?” I asked, feeling down my wounded side and finding bandages under my slip.
“No, thankfully. I coaxed the seamstress into making something decent for me. I told her it would be our little secret, and I wouldn’t tell one joke or speak hardly at all. I think she did a fabulous job. The problem is, all the fucking dragons have decided they should pick on me whenever I wear normal clothes. It’s like we’ve stepped back in time. Except it’s not even the same dragons! It’s new dragons—the visiting ones. The whole situation is utterly ridiculous. Why me, you know? What did I do?”
“Talk a bunch of shit to the wrong people?”
“Okay, yes, I did do that. But honestly, Finley, darling, you have to believe me. It’s like they purposely say stupid shit so I can’t help but poke fun at them. You should hear what they come out with. One actually asked another if his new pants made his dick look bigger!”
I couldn’t help grinning. “And what did you say?”
“I told him the truth—the pants made it look big enough to distract from what came out of his mouth.”
My smile widened, and I started to chuckle. “Was that it?”
He smoothed one side of his mustache. “Well, I may have also pointed out there was such a thing as too big, and he was never gonna get any offers for blow jobs or anal wearing those pants.”
I laughed harder.
“The problem is,” he went on in a huff, “I say these things to people who don’t have the ability to trade witty responses, and then I end up in a compost pile or some other unsavory place.”
I laughed harder, doubling over, not feeling the slightest tinge of ache. “You do keep life interesting.”
“Apparently,” he said, picking up a book from the table at his side and opening to the bookmark.
“How long have I been out?” I looked out the sunny window, seeing blue sky peek out from a few puffy white clouds.
“Just the rest of last night and this morning. How do you feel?” He lowered his book again.
I pushed the bedcovers back more and pulled up my slip and then the bandage. The wound was stitched together with black string, with Hannon’s telltale straight lines and even threading. The puffy pink skin spoke of healing, and the gash was much smaller than it had been yesterday.
“Great. Record fast healing time.”
You’re welcome, my dragon said.
Your crashing got us in trouble. I wouldn’t say you’re welcome just yet.
I’m blaming that on you.
I leaned over and captured the note at last, running my finger across a burgundy seal pressed with what had to be the royal crest.
“He’s getting fancy.” I slipped my finger under it and broke the wax.
“He hunted around until he found that color. It’s close to your scales.”
My impossibly stubborn mate dearest Finley,
I realize a letter isn’t strictly necessary, since I am close at hand—I’m in the castle or on the grounds looking after things—but I worried that if you didn’t hear this from me, you’d ignore it. I am hoping you don’t ignore it anyway.
Please don’t ignore it anyway.
You lost a lot of blood yesterday after doing something incredibly courageous stupid, and while you might feel good or *fine*, you need some rest. You can heal faster than most, but you do still need time to recuperate.