Also, Thalia didn’t leave when I went looking for Bazzi and Damianos. She knocks on the door five minutes after I return and offers to get him dressed for dinner.
“Is he sleeping in his bassinet?” she asks, extending her neck to peer over my shoulder.
I close the door a little bit more so that she won’t be able to see Bazzi fluttering around in the air. Thalia’s even younger than me and I don’t know if she’s on the list of wolves who know and believe about the king dragon legend.
I’m also feeling like an asshole because while I spent all day picking out a wardrobe, “Bazzi actually doesn’t have any other clothes to wear yet. Maybe we should just have dinner brought up to the room?”
“That is not necessary,” she answers. “Mr. Drákon himself picked out clothes for Basileios this morning so that you could both dress appropriately for dinner.”
“He did?” I ask. “And seriously? There’s a dress code for dinner?”
“Yes,” she replies. And I guess that’s the answer to all my questions because she continues with, “The new clothes are ready and waiting for Basileios in the nursery.”
My eyes bug. “He has his own nursery?”
“Yes, right next door to Mr. Drákon’s suite. So, if you would like to give him to me.” She holds out her arms.
“Uh….” I’m not sure if Thalia’s strong enough to carry a thirty-pound baby to…wherever the dragon king’s suite is located in this humongous place. I also can’t see her wrestling Bazzi’s wings into a shirt. “He’s…sleeping. Could you bring the outfit here? And I’ll put it on him when he wakes up.”
“Of course,” she answers. “I’ll do that now.”
She starts to head off, but I stop her with, “Thalia?”
She turns around, expression eager, and ready to serve. “Did you…did you want this job? Like legit want it? No convincing needed by Damianos?”
“Yes, of course, I want this position.” Her face falls. “Why? Am I not doing a good job? Are you dissatisfied? Is there something I could do to improve my—”
“No, no, no,” I assure her. “I just…I just wanted to make sure you weren’t forced into anything you didn’t want to do.”
“I do desire this position,” she answers, her expression totally sincere as far as I can tell. “I was so excited when Grandma told me you’d need an attendant—that is after I looked up what attendants do.”
Alarm bells go off. Was she excited or had Damianos lied to me about the god speaking? “So it was your dream to be an attendant?”
“Well, no, not exactly…but it’s even more not my dream to run the counter at my father’s restaurant on Lukos, which was my only other option. Plus…” Her expression goes from sincere to frank. “For the amount Mr. Drákon pays, there’s not a lot I wouldn’t be willing to do. Also, Grandma says he’s much nicer these days, now that he’s in love.”
“In love,” I repeat. My heart flips all the way over. “He told you that?”
“Well, no…” she answers. “But none of the Drákon line of kings have ever brought a mate back. They usually show up after they inherit the title because their father has died. But to be honest, I’m not sure how it worked in the past. My grandmother isn’t the most reliable source, and from what I can tell, she and her grandmother were the only ones who were allowed into the estate prior to this. But now he’s hired her and me. And grandma said he also asked her about staff for the garden and many other jobs for your big night.” She laughs. “If he doesn’t watch out, he’ll have our whole family working for him.”
I chuff weakly. “Yeah, if he doesn’t watch out.”
The conversation with Thalia is both illuminating and confusing as hell. I get that Damianos has been pretending to go off and die for centuries now—classic vampire move. But what Thalia’s interpreting as love feels like stone cold disinterest to me. Damianos rushed off at breakfast. And we barely spent five minutes talking in that seventh wonder he calls a garden before he rushed off again.
We’re finally both free, and we’ve agreed to be together. We’re supposed to be working on a happy ending here.
But he won’t let me in, and it feels like we’re getting further and further away from the vision Other Damianos spun for us.
If Other Damianos had stayed, would he have shut me out like this?
Expected me to dress up for dinner?
Just as I’m finishing putting on a floor-length maxi dress, Thalia shows up with the outfit Damianos picked out for the baby. It’s not a really nice onesie with slits like I was expecting, but a full-on baby suit, custom cut to accommodate Bazzi’s wings underneath. It even has a special nanite inner panel in the back, which hardens when put on so that no one will be able to see his wings fluttering underneath.