Chapter 22

It didn't take long for Killian to be introduced to the entire Draconis Court of D'Vaire—there were a mere eight of them, including Dravyn. They were a handsome lot, and there was a great resemblance between Dravyn, his sister, and their cousin. Each dragon was gracious, and Killian liked the unpretentiousness of their cozy home. The furnishings were sparse but well-made. It reminded him of the tree he'd encouraged to grow in a shape that allowed him to use the trunk and branches as a living space.

"Please have a seat," Duchess Noirin insisted, her smile bright and her violet gaze welcoming.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Killian replied.

Noirin narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Did you not tell your mate we prefer not to be formal in our home?"

"Do not grow angry with Dravyn," Brogan said as he took a seat opposite them at the long wooden table. "I reminded Killian outside that we do not bother with royal titles."

"I prefer to allow each person to give me permission to drop their title," Killian replied.

"Dravyn, your mate is stubborn," Brogan remarked without ire in his tone.

Killian chuckled, slipping into a chair next to Dravyn. "I have been getting that a lot today."

"I am stubborn too," Dravyn defended.

Noirin reached over and patted her brother's hand. "That is fine. You temper yours with sweetness. Meanwhile, Brogan is both stubborn and easily irked."

"I have a few of those in my life too," Killian remarked, his mind immediately going to the fiery Grand Warlock, who loved as passionately as he argued.

"We are pleased you could join us," King Aleksander said. The King with the exotic navy-and-black hair had haunted eyes, but Killian did not miss the banked fury in those dual-colored depths. It was a mixture of emotions he'd grown accustomed to in The Council as they worked hard to drag themselves constantly through one crisis after another thanks to ruthless dragons.

"The food smells incredible," Killian replied. "Thank you for your invitation. I would add Your Highness, but I am afraid Brogan or Noirin will kick me out of the house."

"I fear getting on Noirin's bad side, not Brogan's," Duke Marcus commented wryly.

"I trust you are not saying that because she is a woman," Madeline said with one brown brow raised.

"No, the insult was to Brogan," Marcus replied. "He is bluster without a bite. It is difficult to upset Noirin, but her fire is generally deserved. Meanwhile, Brogan delights in losing his temper."

"I take offense to the word generally," Noirin teased with a smile. "Name one time I yelled for no reason."

"Please do not ask anyone to list the times Brogan has shouted for something trivial," Larissa commented. "We will be here until morning."

"None of you are amusing," Brogan grumbled.

Amused at the banter, Killian bit into a piece of bread and barely stopped the moan from leaving his lips. Killian enjoyed food as much as the next person, but he could not say he'd ever taken such pleasure from a single bite. There was more magick to Court D'Vaire than just the singing garden Dravyn had cultivated.

Sad that he could not hold on to the delight resting on his tongue forever, Killian swallowed. "Noirin, I hope I do not offend when I call you a sorceress, but I have tasted nothing finer."

The woman with the bold assessing violet gaze blushed—much as her brother did, but without the charming freckles Dravyn had gained from his time in the sun. "You need not compliment me, but you have my thanks."

"Noirin does not think she has any rare talent in the kitchen," Dravyn explained. "We cannot disabuse her of the notion."

"Perhaps I would be willing to listen if you would admit that your garden grows far more generously than it should," Noirin fired back.

"It sings," Killian stated firmly. "That is something only the strongest druids can accomplish. We use magick along with our affection for our plants. Dravyn has done it with nothing but love. If I had not heard it with my own ears, I would have called such a thing a fabulous tale. He defies everything I have ever been taught."

"What a fine thing," Aleksander exclaimed with a bright smile. "We all understood how special Dravyn's talent is, but to know he has achieved something beyond the ordinary is remarkable. Each D'Vaire that has entrusted me with their safety is such a gift. I often ask Fate how I came to be so lucky to know each of you."

It soothed Killian to know that despite the trauma Aleksander had endured and the still-festering wounds he suffered from daily, it had not turned the man dark or bitter—at least not outwardly. There was genuine joy in his words, and Killian believed him to be sincere. Aleksander was proud of his family.

Killian had learned from his dealings within The Council and the leadership of the Leolinnias that a fine ruler understood the value of the people he served. Aleksander appeared to be of the same mind, and there was also affection for the men and women sharing his home. All around Killian, the D'Vaires praised each other, and he smiled at the beautiful blush adorning Dravyn's cheeks.

"Is it possible for us to hear the song you speak of?" Noirin asked. "I have never noticed a melody when I venture outdoors."

Upset again that the music was lost on dragons—especially for the man who'd encouraged his plants to know such happiness—Killian nodded. "Yes, I can use my magick to encourage their music to grow loud enough for you to hear. Perhaps after we finish this fine meal, I can allow everyone to listen to Dravyn's garden."

"Thank you," Aleksander responded. "I am sure we would all love to hear it."

"I heard it for a moment, though I assumed it was Killian's magick alone," Brogan commented. "He had the entire garden glowing like a beacon for every dragon to find us."

"It was far too low a light for anyone who did not already know this place existed to find us," Dravyn retorted. "You do not need to insult my mate or his magick."

Brogan's navy gaze widened at the censure. "My apologies. I worry about our safety."

"Killian is no stranger to the risks of exposing someone to dragon fire," Duke Zane commented. Beyond his initial greeting, they were the first words Zane had spoken. "It was my father and the men and women who remain his loyal followers—despite his well-deserved death—that taught Killian and his Council to fear our kind. For that, Killian, you have my apology."

Swallowing another scrumptious bite of his dinner—this one of delicately spiced meat—Killian stared into a set of black scaly irises and understood the guilt on Zane's face.

"Allow me to give you a bit of history on the Circle of Druids," said Killian. "Fate first created the Coven of Warlocks. The stories are murky now, but druids were born of warlock blood. Perhaps it was a sorcerer born with the same fondness for plants Dravyn and I enjoy. After we became a race of our own, Fate picked a family to lead us. The heads of that family were aided by every relative to ensure the druids were happy, had weapons to defend themselves, and wanted for nothing. But there was one couple, known as Hrodeberht and Irmengard, who believed the Dwyers had grown complacent.

"It took time, but they eventually found others who agreed. Together, they formed a rebellion. There were harsh losses on both sides. Even Hrodeberht and Irmengard lost two sons in the battle. Eventually, though, every member of the Dwyers was dead.

"Convinced they were the rightful rulers, Hrodeberht and Irmengard reveled and drank the blood of the former Dwyers to convince Fate they should lead. Within a day, the golden bands given by Fate to druidic leaders—which are displayed on my skin—grew on theirs. That didn't stop them from consuming more blood. Fearful of being dethroned themselves, Hrodeberht and Irmengard outlawed weapons. Druids were taught to stick to their gardens and trust Hrodeberht and Irmengard or face the consequences."

"That is vile," Brogan remarked, his mouth curled in disgust.

"What happened to Hrodeberht and Irmengard?" Dravyn asked.

"Years passed, and the druids were on the decline. Not every druid is rich with magick, and collaboration had died, so people starved. Hrodeberht and Irmengard did not care. Their focus was on themselves and on complaining loudly about the losses they had suffered. The couple ignored their people. Two additional children were born to Hrodeberht and Irmengard. The oldest was a son they instantly feared, for it was clear he would be a formidable sorcerer one day. As the druids' situation grew dire, they incited a merciful rebellion of their own. The only casualties were Hrodeberht and Irmengard themselves."

"So, the son and daughter were spared?" Noirin asked. "Did Fate then pick your family to rule as the Dwyers?"

"Fate had already chosen us," Killian said. "Hrodeberht and Irmengard were my parents. No one blames me for their misdeeds. They need not; I am not them."

Zane smiled. "So, you will not judge me because my father was an evil murdering bastard."

"No, for you are not him."

"My father served Bernal," Marcus confided. "I, too, know well what it means to have an evil parent."

"My father happily turned me out of the house because my scales were different," Aleksander added. "Although I was fearful in that moment, it made me a King. I do not know if I deserve such a title, but it has brought fine men and women into my life."

"Your father also spreads the tale of your supposed curse far and wide," Noirin groused.

"And likely had a hand in the death of your parents," Aleksander agreed.

"Larissa and I were both told we could not be together by our families because we are two women picked as mates," Madeline said. "None of us were blessed with remarkable bloodlines."

"I am sorry you did not have kind parents," Dravyn commented to Killian.

Unable to resist the temptation, Killian leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for your kindness, but Fate rewarded me with many gifts. I rarely think of Hrodeberht and Irmengard any longer. They are unworthy of my attention. My sister was a small child at their deaths. I was immensely grateful I received an invitation to join The Council. Without Saura and T'Eirick, I am not sure Aloisa would've grown into such a mature, wonderful person. I was overwhelmed with the responsibility of learning to lead and had no experience as a parent."

"Aloisa and Clara were very kind to me at the dance," Dravyn said. "They love you a great deal."

"And I, them," Killian replied.

"The dance sounded so lovely, though we had to squeeze details out of Dravyn," Noirin complained. "He is so unused to speaking freely that he forgets his sister is a nosy busybody."

"Do not worry, we do not expect an invitation to experience it for ourselves," Aleksander said. "After everything the sorcerers have suffered because of dragons, it would be far too difficult for us to mingle among them."

"Yes, you are dragons. But innocent ones. Your own kind has preyed upon you. We do not think you would harm us," Killian assured the D'Vaire King and made a mental note to speak with Kaedan. In the future, Killian hoped to someday combine his life with Dravyn's if they both agreed it was right for them. To do so, they would have to figure out a way to sort out their different living circumstances. While Killian could teleport anywhere, it would be difficult to balance seeing his mate and his extensive duties as the druid leader and member of The Council without changes.

The D'Vaires were also hiding from dragonkind because they feared them. The Council could possibly offer the eight dragons some sense of security if they joined the government. But Killian could not offer an invitation without the agreement of Kaedan and most of the other races involved, so he did not mention any of his thoughts to his tablemates. Thinking of Kaedan had a question popping into Killian's mind.

"Aleksander, I have a question, but if you prefer not to answer, I understand," Killian ventured. He nearly shrank into himself as all of the D'Vaires—except their King—stared at him with either opposition or fierce curiosity. But he had suffered far too much to fear something as simple as a query, so he forged ahead. "Our Grand Warlock, Kaedan, sent missives to many dragon leaders to find out if we had any allies. It remains to be seen if any of them will grow into friends, but none of yours arrived. Each magical missive bounced immediately back to Kaedan. It is our custom to send magical missives constantly, but we cannot explain the phenomenon, as we have never experienced such a thing before."

The room grew deathly quiet, and the D'Vaires darted glances at each other. Killian was helpless to understand.

After a few moments, Aleksander cleared his throat. "Settle yourselves. This is Dravyn's mate. He will keep my secret."

"Or you need not tell me if it makes you uncomfortable," Killian instantly replied. "It is enough to know you understand why even though we do not."

"Fate appears to have bestowed a gift upon my unworthy self," Aleksander confided quietly. "It saved my life countless times. Not to mention my dignity. I can shield myself and forcibly push against anything I do not want near me. No offense to your Grand Warlock, but I was in no position to explain missives, and I did not want to give the dragons excuses to torment me."

Killian was stunned by Aleksander's gift but also grateful that it had helped the King survive until now. It reminded him of Masse's rocks and their ability to thwart magick and throw a shield around the bearer. Killian never left home without the protection of one. Aleksander was a lucky man to have such a wonderful innate talent.

"Tell your Grand Warlock that when King D'Vaire wishes to speak to him, he will message him, not the other way around," Brogan stated emphatically.

"Be nice, Brogan," Noirin insisted.

"I will pass your words along to Kaedan," Killian replied, though it was a lie. The fiery warlock would eagerly insist Killian tell the Duke what he could do with his "helpful"advice. An image of the tiny warlock sizing up the tall dragon and expertly putting him in his place rushed into his mind, and he had to lift a hand to hide his smile.

Dravyn caught his eye and grinned. "Are you thinking as I am about what a delight it will be to introduce them?"

"Someday, I definitely hope we have the opportunity," Killian agreed with a wink.

"What does that mean?" Brogan barked.

"Pay no attention to it," Zane said. "It is obvious Killian has already surmised how often you stick your foot in your mouth. A man who rules an entire council is not likely to take kindly to a dragon—even if his King has made him a Duke—telling him what to do."

"Hmph," Brogan replied.

"Thank you so much for including me in your meal this eve," Killian commented. "I hope it is not too brazen of me to say I welcome a future invitation to dine with you again someday."

"You are most welcome at our table," Aleksander said. "We are humbled by your willingness to visit us."

"Can we go listen to Dravyn's garden now?" Noirin asked.

"I would be delighted to use my magick for such a noble purpose," Killian assured her. He was already looking forward to getting to know Dravyn and his family better.