Save the Date

Cyril Sunfletch’s holiday gala to celebrate his election to the White House had been tentatively scheduled two years ago so that prominent Betweeners could save the date. His landslide victory at the polls had locked in tonight’s extravaganza, which would be attended by everyone who was anyone—and then some. The guest list and media attention Cyril had drawn easily rivaled the hoopla made over Kimi’s courtship.

Ages ago, Isla had secured adjoining suites at the venue. For Hisoka-sensei’s convenience, of course. She’d plotted even longer over her wardrobe.

Technically, she was arrayed in diplomatic green, which was fitting for her role with the Amaranthine Council. But once the cloth had been embroidered with a floral motif, all in a rich, creamy hue, her gown became a nod to Hisoka Twineshaft’s clan colors. Few realized they were, of course, since he always wore pewter and gray. But he would have known. And Isla had hoped he would see the compliment. And maybe realize how well his colors suited her.

Lapis Mossberne swept through the adjoining door, draped in shushing velvet.

His gaze swept appreciatively over her chosen attire, then he startled her by bowing over her hand … and slipping a small box into it. “A token. A trifle, really. But who has dimmed your usual sparkle?”

“You have to know I was hoping to attend with Sensei.”

“You talked of little else for weeks.”

“It was going to be my chance.”

“Sleep still has a claim on him, and so you are mine. Do try to bear up.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m disappointed, of course, but spending time with you is hardly a dirge. We’ll have to be careful, though, not to seem too close.”

“We can hardly avoid that. I’m your date, am I not?”

She smiled crookedly. “You don’t date. And everyone knows it since you’re always pointing out that you’re from a chaste class.”

“My chastity is well-established.”

“You know, they’ve started making lists of the world’s most unattainable bachelors. You’re on all of them.”

“The world at large can’t hope to lay hold of me. Not when my interests lie elsewhere.”

“In books.”

“Ah, my heart does thrill over the romances we read and write, but I am not referring to fiction.”

“That’s entirely too misleading. You made it sound like you have your heart set on someone.”

His gaze did not waver. “I suppose I did.”

“But that’s not possible.” She would have noticed, would have known. “You’d have said something.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t free to speak.” And before she could pursue her point, he swung the velvet cloak from his shoulders, revealing an extravagance of silk.

Isla gasped. The matching embroidery on his vest, the touches of diplomatic green. Their ensembles clearly belonged together. “But how …? Did you go to the Scatterlights, too?”

“With a smile that definitely fit into the knowing category, Lapis urged, “Open the box, my dear.”

Inside, she found a set of hairpins capped by crystal flowers that were the same deep blue as Lapis’s hair.

“If I may?” He turned her toward the mirror and busied himself with finding places for the midnight blossoms in her hair.

She opened her mouth to warn him about the crystal array already in place, but Lapis was a master when it came to remnants. He hummed to them and murmured soft encouragement. Her teensy green ornaments were pleased by his attention, and they realigned themselves to suit his purposes. Isla was almost miffed that they were so willing to do another’s bidding. But … the additions sparkled fetchingly among her curls.

“You’re going rather far to cheer me up.”

Lapis apparently wasn’t finished, for he began plucking a dainty sigil from the air between them. “Humor me.”

She watched closely. “I don’t know that pattern. What does the sigil do?”

“For the most part, this variety is decorative. Your palms, please.”

Isla offered them, attention fixed on the emerging sigil. Granted, it was a pretty bit of artistry, but what was the point if it didn’t do anything?

“You know your lore,” he prompted. “This is a pale imitation, I fear, but such marks are inspired by tales of imps and their favor.”

This was familiar territory. “In lore, an Impression tested someone’s regard with a kiss. They’re said to leave a shining mark upon the person they favor. And if their feelings are returned, the mark remains. That’s how they know their feelings are returned.” She smiled when Lapis nudged the first one against her skin and began another. “There’s ample evidence that they’re not fiction. Mikoto Reaver is a recent recipient. And Persiflage Beckonthrall is quite decorative.”

Lapis settled a second sigil on her other palm. “By such marks, an admirer knows that their feelings are returned. For tonight, let these assure you that you are dear to my heart. And do try to enjoy the evening. The Sunfletches are sure to have outdone themselves.”

Isla tore her gaze from her new adornments, thinking of nothing more than thanking him, but she froze at finding Lapis so close. But … it was just Lapis, so she forced herself to relax.

But he wasn’t done. Taking and turning one of her hands, he began fitting rings onto her fingers.

As the weight of shining stones increased, Isla protested, “But Lapis, these are yours.”

“They are old friends to keep you company when I cannot be at your side. Let them shine for you and adorn you. Let them capture the attention of others; let them win for you the admiration of all. And when the evening is over and you return to my side, let me draw them from your fingers and reclaim them with kisses.”

“That’s not from one of our books.”

“No.”

“Is the wording traditional?”

“Paraphrased. It would be more potent in the original.”

Isla was further intrigued. “May I hear it?”

“Unwise, my dear. The words are accompanied by gestures, like punctuation, for emphasis.”

“I want to know.”

He lightly said, “You have always been greedy for facts, but this is more about feelings.”

She huffed. “I have feelings.”

“And they are focused elsewhere.”

Two more rings slid into place before she bartered for more. “Let’s say it’s for a book …?”

He gathered her hands into his. “We could say that.”

“We haven’t ever included dragon courtship. Couldn’t we explore the possibility?”

Lapis didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, my dear. Let’s explore the possibility.”

As if that had been his plan all along.

“Right then. Do it again. In the original. Tell me properly.”

He began.

Isla was impervious to sway, but she was cognizant of the fact that Lapis Mossberne had a compelling voice. She had enough of the old languages to get the gist of what he was saying, and she let herself be swayed, just to see what it was like. This was almost as if she were the leading lady in one of their romances. Only … well. Was she being too passive, simply waiting to see what Lapis would say and do?

But he took the lead and kept it with a confidence that was probably the product of centuries.

Her reasoned observation kept faltering, and her heart took to fluttering. Lapis hadn’t lied about movement being part of the recitation. He circled her as he spoke, pausing sometimes to adjust the position of her arms, her feet. It was a little like one of those regency dances that she and Kimi had learned together back in high school. The press of palms, the graceful turns. But Lapis was taking this so … so seriously. Like a romantic hero should.

This was fascinating and ancient and inspiring. She was smiling, and he was pleased.

When it was over, she pouted. “That was all?”

“All you might want.”

“So there’s more.”

“There is more.”

“Don’t leave anything out!” she demanded.

He lowered his gaze, which showed off the shimmering color on their lids. “Do not blame me.”

She was enjoying this. It was new and exciting, better than anything in books.

Lapis slid a ring of crystal from his little finger and placed it in his mouth.

“What did you do that–?”

A gem-tipped claw pressed against her lips, commanding silence. Then he hooked that finger under her chin, tilting her head, and his lips lightly brushed across hers. He quietly ordered, “Open.”

Isla let herself be swayed.

When he passed the crystal ring to her, a familiar note sang across her senses. This was a little like the crystal rods Betweeners routinely used to keep anyone from overhearing private conversations. What an interesting application! But why would anyone …?

“Isla,” Lapis murmured against her lips. “Stop thinking.”

She wanted to protest, but there was a ring of crystal on her tongue. So all she managed was a vague, “Mmm?”

“Dragonish courting game,” he offered.

Then he was dipping in, stealing the ring with the tip of his tongue, then returning it.

Isla wasn’t sure what the rules of this game were, but … well, there was a lot to catalog, really. Flavors and scents and textures and responses. Also, she was catching hints of Lapis. She’d never tended him, of course. He was an abstainer, even after Tenma had set him to rights.

“Isla,” Lapis sighed, easing back.

She blinked, focusing. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re still thinking.”

“Well, yes. I’m not sure it’s possible to stop.”

Lapis inclined his head. Or … well, it was more like he hung his head.

She urged, “Do go on. I’m interested.”

“In the dragon clans, courting games usually involve dares. With a ring such as this, we could be kissing in front of every camera in the press box, and nobody would notice.”

“Where did the ring go?”

“It is in my cheek.”

“And if I wanted it back …?”

“Another kiss.” Lapis explained, “Dragons can hide in plain sight, and seductions can be secret even when they take place in public. Such games have great appeal, especially for dragon lords who must woo multiple brides, often away from other potential suitors. Or from some fine and famous lord to whom they’ve been betrothed since birth. Seduction became an artform.”

Isla may have been a cultural liaison, but she had a few strongly-held personal ideals. “What do the dragonesses think of being squabbled over and accumulated by males?”

Lapis tutted at her. “We say ‘the fathers are strong,’ but do you understand why?”

She hesitated. “I know the saying. I’ve always taken it at face value. The dragon lords hold power. They’re the rulers of your clans. Their strength is passed on to future generations … like selective breeding.”

“Not so, dear heart. Will you listen to one who is lesser, a lord in name only?”

Isla immediately shifted into a receptive posture. “Help me understand.”

“We are terribly selfish, dragons.”

“Well, yes. No offense.”

Lapis’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “One in four males is elevated. By whom, do you think?”

“Is there a selection committee for dragon lords?”

“Yes, and it is entirely peopled by females. The ladies of our clans are exacting in their standards. Only one in four males shows promise. The fathers are strong … and rare. Because we are terribly selfish, dragons.”

The reasoning was frustratingly circular, but Isla caught a glimmer of his meaning. Perhaps because her own father was exceptional. “Dragons make terrible fathers.”

“The fathers are strong because they are generous. They willingly pour their lives into others. Fond of children. Wise and patient and loving.”

“But you’re all those things!”

“According to my father, I loved books too well, and my charms were better spent on the crystals that loved me much and love me still.”

“You can be both! Look at Papka.”

“I have often considered the idyllic life of Michael Ward and envied him his place.” And pivoting, Lapis asked, “Would you like to claim my little ring? It’s an especially fine remnant. Unrivaled. Exquisite. Winnable.”

“You’d let me keep it?”

“Courting games often involve prizes.” Lapis bent closer. “There will be distractions and dares. I’ll test your courage, expand your creativity, sharpen your wits. I’ll behave foolishly, wax romantic, and make you wonder why you didn’t make me part of your plans in the first place.”

She wanted to prove herself, to impress him, to win. “It is a pretty ring.”

“You could take it from me. But I wonder if you can keep it from me.”

He was challenging her to a game. Wasn’t that all right? A game to pass the time. A game to keep things interesting.

“Do you require persuading?” He held her gaze while he kissed her palms. “I like challenges, too.”

He knew her so well. If this had been anyone but Lapis, she would have rebuffed him soundly, then deployed her defensive array. But Lapis knew her secret hopes. Lapis shared her love for romantic gestures. Lapis could be entirely dashing. And for tonight, he was inviting her to shed restraint and join in on a dragon’s revel.

Isla’s imagination swirled with all the things she might learn. And … perhaps more importantly … he was trying to distract her with something fun. A distraction she probably needed. So when he angled his head just so, she took up the challenge.

Her kiss was tentative, but he hummed approval and angled his head.

She tried again, and the way he sighed against her lips … oh, that felt like winning.

With a touch of sway that was both rude and riveting, Lapis murmured, “Deeper.”