Mind Made Up

Lapis could have retreated to his usual chair in the Blue Parlor. Instead, he perched on a vastly less comfortable stool in a comparatively drafty upstairs hall. The mares put too much faith in fresh air for his tastes. They must have left a few windows cracked. And at midwinter? Suppressing a shiver, he continued his shameless eavesdropping on Dr. Perrine’s gentle questioning of Isla.

“Look, I’m fine. Truly. No injuries. No trauma. No lasting effects. Take my side, Pim! Surely you can tell that nothing untoward happened?”

“Are you sure you want to bring my nose into this, Miss Ward?”

“If you’ll confine your remarks to the impositions of foxes, certainly.”

There was a husky laugh.

And probably a knowing smile.

But for once Isla didn’t let it rile her. Hardly a surprise, given this and that. Isla-in-love had always been dauntingly undauntable. Except this time, there was less stubbornness about it and more in the way of … joy. It suited her. She suited him. And so Lapis kept to the sparsely-appointed hall and waited his turn.

The checkup was a formality. One Isla had attempted—and failed—to decline. Sansa had put her foot down. Isla had retaliated with a counteroffer, conceding to consultation, but only with a healer of her own choosing. Lapis suspected that Isla didn’t want the mares getting back to her mother about the very scents Pim had detected. In a sense, it had was a power move. Isla was forever asserting her independence. He was still contemplating the interplay between mother and daughter when the father surmounted a nearby stairway and strolled his way.

“Good day to you, Lord Mossberne. Or … well, it’s close on toward evening now.”

“Midwinter day is necessarily brief,” Lapis returned.

“And exceptionally momentous.” Michael placed a gleaming green chrysalis across Lapis’s knees. “This one’s been softly keening since your arrival. There, now, little one. Here is the dragon who stirred your heart. You’re safe in his arms at last.”

“Ah, yes. You have been sadly neglected.”

To Lapis’s surprise the baby imp grumbled in discordant agreement.

Michael laughed. “They’re increasingly responsive. And becoming more distinct. They have more than each other, so they no longer sing in unison. You’ll see how it is, since you’ll be staying.”

“Will I …?”

“Argent asked me to tell you that you’re officially on holiday. Jacques is managing the necessary shifts in schedule. You’re to spend Christmas with us. We’ve all the usual festivities planned. You won’t be needed for any public appearances until New Year’s Eve at Kikusawa Shrine.”

If Argent had sent Michael, then it was very likely that the fox had relayed at least some of what had occurred between him and Isla while on his back. Lapis supposed that had been rather reckless of him. But he’d been so relieved. And Isla had been so ….

Michael cleared his throat. “I’m also told that there’s time enough to call for a press conference. For the thirty-first.”

Lapis blinked.

Isla practically skipped out the door he’d been guarding. “Oh, but that’s brilliant! I’ll need to check with Canarian about auspicious dates and possible lulls in the Council schedule, but definitely yes. New Year’s Eve is perfect. We can use our news to undercut any speculation over the sudden cancellations that the Five were forced to make. Canarian can script something, and then Kimiko can make the announcement.”

Michael all-too-innocently asked the obvious question. “Is there something to announce?”

She took a dominant stance and rested a hand possessively on Lapis’s shoulder. “Our engagement, of course!”

Their rock imp thrummed in contentment.

Lapis had always known that to win Isla, he’d need to appeal to both her intellect and to her heart. If she’d made up her mind to love him, then he knew himself to be chosen. And if she was prepared to be very much in love, they’d finally found their balance. Lapis was prepared to be exquisitely happy.

Except.

He feared that his bondmate-to-be was going to try to outdo Kimiko Starmark, and he wasn’t ready to resign himself to a three-year courting period. So on the morning of the twenty-fourth, while the rest of the household was making final preparations for Christmas, Lapis invited Isla for a stroll.

Draped in fur-lined cloaks, he escorted her along a snow-skimmed path while fat flakes drifted lazily from pale clouds. She was talking—she usually was—and he listened contentedly to her suggestions for edits to their current manuscript. Having learned of his enforced holiday, she’d immediately proposed an accelerated schedule so they could finalize the book before their meeting with Canarian next week in Keishi with a proposed schedule for their betrothal’s publicity campaign.

Normally, Lapis applauded Isla’s work ethic, but he’d rather hoped to spend the week in other, more intimate pursuits.

But there was an order to such things. Before they could go forward, he would keep a promise he made in passing. So once the book talk was tabled, he made an oblique beginning.

“When I was born, I was greatly admired for my coloring.”

Isla caught his mood and lost her smile. “Tell me more …?”

“Blue isn’t common. My mother, who was born after the Waning, is still considered a rare beauty. Sky blue, you know. My father is nothing special. A brown. One of Beckonthrall’s younger brothers, as a matter of fact. I inherited his eyes.”

“Will I ever meet them?”

“Ah. I’m sorry, dear heart. They went into seclusion long ago. After … well, I was at the center of some drama, which was embarrassing for all involved. And disastrous for me.”

Isla’s intuition had always been keen. “Is this about your breaking?”

“Before you succumb entirely to my charms, you should know why I am … as I am.” With a faint smile, he added, “You always did like a tragic hero. Though I’ve never been the brooding sort.”

“You certainly don’t have an air of tragedy about you. If you’re sure you want to tell me. I must confess, I am curious.”

Lapis fixed his gaze on the path ahead. “In passing, I mentioned an old … hobby. Before the current mode, with the dragonesses seeking out our strongest males, some of the eldermost and ancients did as they pleased, including the collection of a full spectrum of brides. Though in truest form I have the same azure scales as my mother, in speaking form, I was unique. An indigo dragon.

“The bidding for future daughters—sight unseen, as yet unborn—must have seemed a windfall. When a powerful old dragon came to call with expensive gifts and generous promises and veiled threats, my parents agreed to bind their next daughter to him. But there was a catch, because the lord was as impatient as he was greedy. And so I was sent as a stand-in for my someday baby sister.”

Isla tugged at his arm. “You were held hostage?”

“Worse. I was a bride. His tenth. And a child bride at that.” Lapis patted her hand. “I spent most of my adolescence arrayed as a female.”

“Was it terrible?”

Lapis inclined his head. “I was unhappy.”

“None of the dragon lords behave this way nowadays!”

“Not officially, no.”

Isla gaped at him.

“I would love to say it was a different time, lost in some long-distant past, but alas, I am not that old.” Firmly steering her forward, Lapis said, “Many dragons see no reason to change their ways simply because the times have changed. Traditionalists, you know.”

He could see the protests she wanted to make, watched her training as a cultural liaison kick in, and was grateful when her only response was a reluctant nod.

“While I was living in my non-existent sister’s place, the dragon lord who’d bought me found a new novelty. Reavers. Before long, he secured a young man with a superlative soul and no resistance to sway. But this new pet had a sway all his own, and soon the lord succumbed to addiction. The balance of power shifted, and the cosset found himself a lord in his own right, with a harem of beauties eager for his touch.”

With a sigh, Lapis confessed, “The hatchery grew cold, and the dragonesses whispered that the cosset’s influence was to blame for a spate of stillbirths. But looking back, I think that they were quietly putting down crossers, lest any learn of their shame.”

“What about you?” Isla asked.

“I broke,” he said simply. “But a human’s life is short. In a few decades, after ever member of the household had shattered, he left us bereft. I don’t know what would have happened if Lord Beckonthrall hadn’t come to see why his messages were going unanswered. I believe four of the dragonesses in the harem were his granddaughters.”

“So you were rescued.”

“And bustled off to a secret place for rehabilitation. And eventually placed in a remote height, where books became my escape … and then a bridge of friendship between myself and the very sort of human who ruined me. Because the brothers of my new home worked in tandem with an order of reavers who had long allied themselves with reavers.

“Five generations later, my trust in humanity was renewed, my expertise had expanded into areas of remnant songs and sigilcraft, and my book collection exceeded my living quarters. That’s when a cat came to call. And I liked him and his plans. And his dog.”

“You’ve always been close to Harmonious.”

“He’s been good to me.”

She tugged at the folds of his cloak, exposing the reddish fur that lined it. “He and Anna treat you like one of their own.”

“Harmonious, Hisoka, and humanity have been much kinder to me than members of my own clan.” With a small shake of his head, Lapis redirected. “I simply wanted you to know that while I did succumb to addiction, it wasn’t something I sought. My situation would be considered the mishandling of a minor.”

Isla pushed up into his personal space. “You know, I never once thought you were Broken for personally nefarious reasons. And you’re not a tragic figure. You’re generous and gentlemanly and romantic and … and good.”

“Thank you, my dear. I’m flattered by your regard.”

“It’s not flattery. It’s the truth.”

“It is true that I survived an ordeal. It’s similarly true that I live with the consequences.” He let his chin fall to his chest. “Another truth will have a bearing on the future. I sympathize a great deal with the Rogue’s children. I cannot always be here, but I will often be here.”

“Of course,” she said warmly. “You’re more at home here than anywhere.”

“Mmm.” He lifted his gaze, peering at her through his lashes. “Grant me a boon?”

“If you want him, you’ll have to wrestle Pim and Elara for him.”

Brushing snowflakes from her hair, he lapsed into swaying words. “Give me what I want, Isla. Let me have my way. Concede to my terms.”

“You’re waxing redundant. Very bad form.”

“I will say it as many ways as the thesaurus permits. Yield. Entrust. Bestow.”

That won him a laugh. She said, “You’re always telling me to be more concise.”

“Do not make me wait, Isla. Not one more day.”

She frowned. “I gave you my answer. I’m quite sure I did.”

With a small shake of his head, he firmed his hold on her arm and ushered her briskly to his intended destination. The Song Circle was still decorated for a bonding ceremony. Standing with her at its center, Lapis made his meaning plain. “If you so desire, I will submit to a lengthy and ornamental courtship, with enough trimmings and trappings to rival Kimiko’s. But that will be for show. A celebration after the fact.”

He waited, worried he’d disappointed her.

Pageantry was expected for someone in his position.

And their bonding really would benefit the Council.

But to wait longer after waiting for so long?

He repeated in pleading tones, “Not one more day.”

Isla couldn’t help wanting to use their engagement to titillate the masses. Not only was it a prime opportunity, it was a much-needed one. Because once the hype surrounding Cyril Sunfletch’s inauguration died down, he would pass into the realm of politics. A new, high-profile romance would be just the thing. Tried and true. Dream-come-true. Canarian was sure to give their match some flare. Unattainable Bachelor Takes a Bride. Or something.

“You mean … elope?” she asked doubtfully.

“Since neither of us is where we’re scheduled to be, I think it’s fair to say we’ve already run away together.”

“Don’t be daft. We came home.”

“A good place to begin. As is this.” He indicated the Song Circle.

“Can we do that? Just … become bondmates. Oh, but of course we can. For nearly every Amaranthine clan, the establishment of a bond comes down to consent and copulation. Any other trappings are either cultural or instinctual gestures, usually attached to the courtship phase. In fact, for most clans, the introduction of any form of bonding ceremony hearkens back to the addition of reavers to their community. The additional formalities are largely considered adoption or adaptation as a nod to human expectations or sensibilities. For example …!”

She trailed off when she realized that Lapis had been slowly encroaching.

He smiled and pressed his lips to hers. “Are you willing?”

“I … well, yes.” Her mind was still racing. “We can still have all the press conferences and photoshoots and interviews and whatnot?”

“Are we not ambassadors for the very peace our union represents.” Another soft kiss. “We might even reveal ourselves as the tour de force behind the novels of Chastity Landis, since my years of patience and pining for you will appeal to romantics.”

“Ohhh. Oh, that’s brilliant!” She hesitated. “Unless people will think the whole thing’s a publicity stunt?”

“I will not hide the fact that I am ardently in love.” Another kiss, this one more lingering. “We are highly demonstrative, dragons.”

“But … our books sales.”

Lapis shrugged. “Give them away. Perhaps a new cause. Something for children of interspecies unions …?”

“Kimiko would definitely support us! And Harmonious and Anna, of course. Argent and Tsumiko. Actually, I’m quite sure we could get the Sunfletches involved. And Ash is a crosser.”

“And our own children.”

She blinked. She cautioned, “My current schedule won’t allow for a three-year maternity leave.”

Lapis mildly pointed out, “My years are yours. I’m merely thinking ahead. For now, we can concentrate on securing the rights and respect due to all people, no matter their provenance.”

Isla was pleased with this course. “Should I place a call to Canarian? He’ll want to know ….”

“He’ll be here within the half-day. To spend Christmas with his family. Let’s not interrupt his holiday. Or forget our purposes here.” He indicated the Song Circle.

“Right. Sorry.” She eased into a receptive posture. “I’m no more familiar with the forms of a dragon’s bonding ceremony than I was with courting games. How should we proceed?”

Lapis took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her fingers. “You need warming and adorning, which I am prepared to do in the privacy of my suite. But according to the traditions of my clan, lasting vows are made where the winds can bear witness.”

His expression was peaceful. His gaze gentle. But anticipation was building beneath the surface. He wanted more. He wanted her. And it was wonderful, being wanted. Somewhere, deep down, Isla had begun to doubt her desirability. Too career-oriented. Too outspoken. Too strong-willed. Too famous.

Lapis was perfect for her.

And he was waiting for her.

Because her thoughts had strayed.

A faint smile welcomed her back.

He really was perfect.

The slowly falling snow had been catching in his midnight hair, giving him a pure white crown. A rare beauty. Was he the only dragon with this coloring? With a sudden jolt of inspiration, she said, “Wouldn’t your child also be an indigo dragon?”

“It’s certainly possible. Who can say which characteristics a crosser will inherit?”

“But if you carried the child. Like Uncle Jackie and Suuzu?”

His eyes slowly widened. “A fair and equitable proposition. How forward-thinking of you, my dear. I am willing to do my share. Perhaps after Suuzu’s seclusion ends?”

“Right. Well. I can add that to the agenda for our meeting with Canarian.”

“Please, do.”

And he drew her into a stirring kiss that could have meant anything, but probably meant everything. At least, she was confident that’s where this was leading. Wanting to be equally as fair and equitable, Isla retreated enough for whispered words. “May I tend you?”

Lapis looked a trifle fraught, but his trust was hers. “Please, do.”

Of course, it wasn’t simple. He was sigiled from tip to toe, and her personal wards were nearly as formidable. But they worked together, puzzling out a pathway that would leave them with sufficient protections.

It was an unexpected intimacy, teasing past barriers.

Her awareness of him took on fresh nuance, and she supposed she was similarly exposed. It was throwing her off more than she liked to admit. Her love for him was brand new, though it had its foundations in a longstanding friendship. But his soul reached for her with a wistful, hopeful, needful sort of yearning.

“You’ve abstained ever since then,” she murmured.

He pulled her against him and nodded into her hair.

Isla felt a tremor pass through him. “It’s all right, you know. Papka might get all of Sensei’s compliments, but I’m really very good.”

Another nod.

She fed a gleaming thread through the way they’d made. That’s how she pictured it. Fine as silk, shining like starlight, ready to meet him and bind him, so that Lapis would be hers.

He sighed.

And then he made a flattering little trill.

And then he began to speak.

“First and foremost, eastern bride,

Let your rising fill these eyes.

Wise and windmost, northern bride,

Let your tumult quell my storm.

Right and highmost, western bride,

Let your singing guide our course.

Kind and softmost, southern bride,

Let your warmth undo your drake.”

Isla was delighted. And enormously curious. “Did you just propose to me four times?”

“Four times,” he echoed, a trifle dreamily. “You are my every direction.”

That was really a very romantic thing for a dragon to say. And also telling. “Are you telling me that all four bride’s chambers are mine?”

“Yours entirely. Rule over them long and well.”

“When I convinced you not to take Tenma as your eastern bride, I didn’t realize I was protecting my own place. I’m rather glad I succeeded in putting you off.”

“A few years ago, I succumbed to a bout of optimism and prepared for future eventualities. Both the north and south brides’ chambers have been done over.”

“You renovated? You never mentioned.”

“I was embarrassed. I had no right to presume.”

Isla pushed him enough that he straightened and met her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Bookshelves.”

She was stunned. “You made room for my books?”

“I almost offered the rooms to you a dozen times, once they were ready. I never did like that your library was under Hisoka’s roof. Perhaps there is some form of instinct at play? A dragon’s home is where he keeps his trove.”

Isla shook her head and breathed, “You made room for my books.”

Lapis looked entirely pleased by her pleasure. Actually, Isla could feel his satisfaction.

Happiness and hopefulness added lilt to this answer. “Yes, my dear. Room enough for yours and mine. And should we begin to overwhelm the available space, there’s always the western bride’s chambers.”

Moving her collection would be an undertaking, and then there were her offices at the embassy. But should she move those as well? Being in Keishi was certainly convenient, but if Lapis didn’t want her books under Hisoka-sensei’s roof … but, wait. Her responsibilities could mean uprooting her entire staff, and that would be enormously impractical.

“Isla. My dear. Do stop drafting agendas. For a bit?”

She wasn’t sure she could. “Sorry. There’s just so much.”

“Most of which can keep. However, one thing cannot. It’s a formality, really. You haven’t given your answer. May I hear it?”

“About the rising and quelling and guiding?” She lowered her voice. “And that last bit. Highly euphemistic!”

“And—one dares hope—not overly optimistic.”

“Certainly not.” She paused, “Which is to say … properly optimistic. Is there a traditional answer that the brides usually give to their pursuing dragon?”

“Yes.”

She waited.

His smile warmed. “All you need to say is yes.”

“Oh! Right, then.” And easing into a more confident posture, she said, “Yes, Lapis. Very much yes.”

With a gracious inclination of his head, Lapis took up a new rote:

“Twain songs now twine;

Words before the wind

Make this drake a lord,

For he has won a lady.”

And then he pressed a quelling finger to her lips, which had parted, since Isla wanted to know if he was now a lord in more than name, which was certainly implied. And if she was truly a lady. And if she should take his name or perhaps hyphenate. But instead, she smiled into laughing eyes and allowed Lord Mossberne to finish.

“Enter my harem and complete it.”