Korla laughed so hard she accidentally dislodged her

  daughter, who immediately made her displeasure known. Fixing the

  situation, Korla then said, "The funniest part of all of this is that Ajith

  doesn't even care about my tits." Her eyes were bright with mirth,

  body shaking with suppressed laughter as Tevra turned so red

  Najlah was concerned he'd pass out. "Sit down before you fall down,

  Your Highness."

  Tevra started to refuse, but Barkus shoved him into a chair

  and poured him a cup of cold tea.

  "What has happened while I was busy?" Korla asked, the

  smirk saying she had very much chosen her words to be gentle to

  Tevra's poor, flustered state.

  "Nothing good, Your Grace," Barkus said. "I'm not sure you

  want to hear it right now."

  Korla sighed. "I'm not sure I do either but tell me anyway."

  So Barkus did, with Najlah and Tevra interjecting occasionally.

  Tucking her daughter away in her little bed, Korla then wiped

  the tears from her cheeks. "Gormestia will pay for this."

  "I'll do everything I can to ensure that is so," Tevra said. "I am

  sorry. No matter what anyone says, this is my fault. Truly, though, I

  had no idea my family hated me so much. All I've ever wanted is to

  serve faithfully."

  "No, Your Highness, this is not your fault at all," Korla replied.

  "You're as much a victim as anyone, if not the greatest victim of all.

  Please try not to worry about it. We're grateful to have your help and

  support; it will give us an edge that nothing else could."

  Tevra bowed his head. "Your Grace."

  She smiled. "Now, I was told my child would be getting a

  warlock's blessings. Is that true?"

  Tevra returned her smile as he lifted his head. "Of course,

  though I didn't expect anyone to know the custom."

  Najlah growled, tail flicking, eyes swirling pink.

  "I don't know this custom either," Barkus said, "though I can

  tell it's apparently no small thing."

  "Warlocks are the most powerful mages on the continent,"

  Korla said. "They are rare and prized. To have one bestow

  protections on a child is an honor, especially a warlock of His

  Highness's acumen. That is why it's most often called a blessing."

  Rather than pride, as Najlah would have expected, sadness

  swept through Tevra, along with hurt and shame. He rumbled,

  concerned, but Tevra only brushed his concerns aside, stepping

  forward and, at Korla's nod of permission, gently lifted the teensy

  baby into his arms. "Are these… is she going to have horns?"

  "She seems to have the parts of both male and female. Fluid,

  we'd say in Restuel."

  "We would say nothing kind in Gormestia," Tevra replied. "I

  am grateful the gods placed her where she would be understood and

  appreciated. Are there any particular protections you would like?"

  "I am honored by whatever you see fit to bestow."

  "They will pain her, there's no avoiding that," Tevra replied. "I

  wish there was."

  "She's a baby, easily soothed again, and she'll not remember

  it later," Korla said.

  Tevra nodded. "Very well, then." He reached into one of the

  pouches he wore and drew out a small leather case. "Barkus, if you

  will hold her for me, out like this so I can work the marks down and

  across her torso… there, perfect." He untied the fastenings of the

  case and rolled it out across the foot of the bed, and drew out a slim,

  sharply pointed tool that looked like it was meant for stabbing and

  slicing, made of something that resembled crystal, though the hilt

  looked to be bone.

  Huffing a laugh, Tevra flicked his eyes briefly to Najlah. "It's

  called a mage's stiletto, meant for carving runes into most any

  surface. The blade is diamond, actually, and the hilt wyvern bone."

  Sadness filled his face and the bond. "My brother gave it to me,

  along with several others, after a hunt. I was so pleased he'd thought

  of me and gifted me bones from such a fine, prized trophy." I wonder

  if he hated me back then too.

  Before Najlah or Barkus could reply, Tevra returned his full

  attention to his task. "I think above all else, our little dear will need

  runes for fire and ice, to keep her warm and safe no matter where in

  the world she will travel. Alerts for magic, so she'll know if someone

  is trying to use it on her without permission. Calling, should our

  future queen find herself in more trouble than she can or wants to

  handle. Hmm… I doubt there are physical supplements I can give

  her that are not outpaced by her draconian nature… Ah, a rune to be

  overlooked, when she wishes it, and a last, deadly rune that can be

  used where her physical abilities run out, and those both we will seal

  until she is old enough to understand the power and danger entailed

  with them. Does that suit, Your Grace?"

  Tears streamed down Korla's cheeks. "More than, Your

  Highness. I cannot thank you enough."

  "Magic is what I do, what I gave nearly twenty years of my life

  to master. After how rude I was when I arrived, and all the pain and

  strife my presence has brought, this is a very small thing to do. Now

  then, little princess, hold still and when they're set, I will soothe your

  ills."

  He set to work carving, working quickly but carefully. The poor

  baby screamed and cried as her fragile little torso bled, though she

  soothed slightly whenever Najlah licked the blood away to allow

  Tevra to see his work clearly.

  In the bed, despite her assurances, Korla watched pale-faced,

  hands clenching her blankets with white-knuckle fierceness.

  When the work was finally done, Korla nearly leaped right out

  of bed to take her back, rocking and murmuring until her daughter

  calmed slightly.

  "Now that's done, I can use magic on her," Tevra said, and

  runes flashed on both arms as he cast a spell that immediately had

  her calm and quiet—and moments later, fast sleep.

  It surprised none of them that shortly after, while in the middle

  of trying to talk about how much trouble Gormestia was in once she

  could get out of bed, Korla too fell back asleep.

  Sharing smiles and a flicking tongue, the three men filed out

  of the room. They were halfway back to their chambers when a

  messenger came running down the hall toward them. "Your

  Highness, my lords, Their Majesties request your immediate

  presence in the throne room."

  Najlah growled in acknowledgement, and the servant bowed

  and departed. I hope they don't expect me to dress up for this

  meeting.

  Barkus gave him a look. "I think they're happy you show up in

  clothes at all."

  "I'm not sure what he wore when we met could be called

  clothes," Tevra muttered, cheeks going faintly pink as they caught

  his thoughts and gave him looks. "I'm not wrong!"

  Najlah chittered as they changed direction and headed for the

  throne room, cheerfully tormenting all three of them with what they

  could do later in his rooms, with or without the pretty wraps and

  jewels he loved to wear. Barkus helped by imagining Tevra in those

  things, leaving Tevra red-faced and sputtering—but not saying no.

  "You'll be taking your turn too," Tevra said, eyeing Barkus.

  "Don't think you're just going to enjoy the show, wolf."

  "I am always a part of the show, I promise," Barkus replied, a

  heated rumbled in his voice.

  Sadly, the delightful, sizzling thoughts had to be set aside as

  they reached the throne room, where the guards opened the doors

  before they'd even come to a stop. The doors closed immediately

  behind them again, a more somber sound than usual somehow.

  On the dais were the king, his consort, and Ajith, still and

  solemn.

  "Why so grim? Are you about to send me to my execution? I

  would have thought you'd look more cheerful."

  Ajith growled in reply. "As ever, you're the only one who thinks

  you're funny. Come here."

  Najlah hissed but obeyed, climbing the dais itself when

  Poryth, King Wyst's consort, motioned for them to do so. Settling on

  his haunches, close enough to Tevra his scales brushed up against

  his clothes, Barkus on Tevra's other side, he growled softly in

  greeting.

  "Welcome," Wyst said, looking tired. "Prince Tevra, I am sorry

  for all this."

  "I am the one who is sorry. What are you going to do, and how

  can I help?"

  "Your brother is on his way. Thanks to Ranteth, we contacted

  Gormestia via magical means. King Evryn had much to say, none of

  it honest or useful. Crown Prince Fedor, however, said he would

  come to speak with us personally—against his father's wishes,

  interestingly. What are your thoughts on that?"

  "My father and brother seldom disagree on anything. If Fedor

  is defying him to do this, knowing full well the hostility with which he

  will be met, then something is wrong that we don't know. Perhaps my

  father acted without telling Fedor what he was doing, or at least the

  entirety of what he was doing. Or something else could be afoot that

  Fedor is trying to stop. I wish I could offer more than that, but… well,

  if you had asked me days ago if my family would have me killed, I

  would have laughed and called you stupid or mad."

  Poryth smiled, expression bitter and sad. "I know a bit about

  backstabbing family, Your Highness. I am sorry you now know it too.

  I'm sure trust is not something you feel like giving right now, but you

  have ours."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty. It's true I'm not eager to trust

  anyone right now, but…" He smiled at Najlah. "Well, dragons do not

  play games the way we do, at least not this dragon. Neither do the

  Lukos, when they have the choice. I trust them, and those they trust.

  I am happy to serve for however long you need me." He laughed

  sourly. "It's not as though I have anywhere to go, even if I wanted to

  leave."

  Najlah growled, tail striking the floor. You are going nowhere.

  You're part of our den now. We are the hornless brutes of Korla.

  Tevra smiled, some of the shadows fading from his eyes. "Of

  course."

  Good, Najlah said with a rumble.

  "Well, I'm glad that's settled," Wyst said with a sigh, though he

  smiled faintly. "Because we are about to ask a lot of all three of you."

  Barkus's brows rose. "That sounds interesting."

  "We are in rather dire straits, politically speaking," Wyst said.

  "We could easily go to war with Gormestia, and they would deserve

  it, but I do not want more people dead. We already have to bury too

  many now. Sending more people to die won't help anything. So that

  leaves me with few options."

  Tevra stirred where he stood between Barkus and Najlah. "A

  united front, that's what you're after. If Restuel, Tahjil, and the Shide

  were truly, formally united, Gormestia would have to back off.

  Everyone has been trying for decades to gain some foothold in the

  Shide—"

  "Even those of us who legally own it," Wyst drawled.

  Barkus gave a toothy grin. "No one owns the Shide but the

  Lukos."

  "Yes, that is his point," Tevra said, backs of his two fingers

  under his chin, brow drawn as he stared at the floor, mind working so

  quickly that Najlah gave up keeping pace. "You own the Shide,

  Najlah and Ajith speak for Tahjil. The marriage between Her Grace

  and Lord Ajith binds Tahjil and Restuel, so all that lacks is a formal

  bond between the Shide and Tahjil. What I don't see is what I have

  to do with anything. I'm useful for information, and possibly dealing

  with my brother, but that's it, so what great thing do you have to ask

  of me that relates to whatever bond you want to put in place between

  Najlah and Barkus?"

  Wyst's mouth quirked, and on either side of him Ranteth and

  Poryth looked equally pleased. "You're as shrewd a diplomat as

  rumors hold, Your Highness."

  Tevra shrugged as he dropped his hand. "I did as my father

  asked of me."

  "Your loyalty is wasted on him, and I'm sorry he did not

  appreciate. As to your role… we thought to try something

  unconventional. It would require some groundwork: first, that you

  sever all ties to Gormestia. I know that is—"

  "Done," Tevra said flatly. "I'll draw up the paperwork myself if I

  have to."

  "You'll not be left adrift, Your Highness. Unlike your homeland,

  we here in Restuel know how to treat loyalty. The next bit of

  groundwork is giving the Lukos more internationally official

  possession of the Shide, while not completely cutting you off from

  Restuel, however much you would like that."

  Barkus laughed. "All the Shide wants is to be left alone, Your

  Majesty."

  "Then assuming your people grant approval, we will designate

  you the Duke of Shide, and you will hold all the power, authority, and

  responsibilities commiserate with that title. With those two things

  accomplished… well, the three of you already have a bond, and I

  feel we should work with that, rather than sort out the clashing mess

  of three different… well, marriage customs, let us say, for simplicity's

  sake."

  "There is precedent," Ranteth said, stepping forward slightly.

  "An old tradition, only seen in old stories and historical accounts

  now. Literally it was called a binding, sort of an… informal formal

  union."

  Najlah hissed. " How can something be formal and informal at

  the same time. Politics are stupid."

  Ajith chittered, and Tevra laughed. "I guess it does sound a

  little silly, but it means that while it is official, and, well, binding, it's

  not as rigid an arrangement as an actual marriage. It's symbolic

  more than anything."

  So just fancy words to attach to what we already have.

  "Essentially," Barkus said, conveying what he'd said to the

  others. "As you say, Your Majesty, I will have to speak with the rest of

  my clan, and they with the other clans, before I can accept such a

  position. That being said, I think they will accept, at least most of

  them, as I was sent here to build the relationships we've long

  rejected."

  Wyst nodded. "Still, this is as I said asking much of the three

  of you. Though I know you get along well, and have the mental bond,

  you've not known each other long. This binding is not something we

  can just do and later undo when Gormestia leaves. It will have

  effects that echo far beyond the squabbling of our three countries. I

  will not say you'll be together for life, but you'll be bound for a long

  time. So think carefully."

  Najlah barked and chittered. "We are hornless brutes. We are

  already bound. What do I care what stupid human words and papers

  you attach to it? Barkus and I survived those accursed caves, and I

  know the weight and taste of Tevra's blood down to my bones. Your

  politics are irrelevant to me."

  Barkus cast him a look that was equal parts fondness and

  amusement before translating. Between them, Tevra was his

  contained self outwardly, but inwardly flustered. Only you could

  make something so violent and terrible sound erotic and almost

  romantic.

  "I envy your view of the world, Lord Najlah," Wyst said with a

  sigh. "If everyone was as clear and straightforward as you, it would

  be a much happier place. Very well, if none of you objects to this

  arrangement, we will do the binding ceremony next week, since it will

  take some time to draw up all the necessary papers. Lord Barkus,

  send word to me the moment the Shide makes a decision. So far as

  the binding goes, I'll have materials sent to your chambers so you

  will know the history and details. Speaking of your chambers…" His

  mouth quirked. "Do I need to arrange a proper suite for you three, or

  shall I have them expand where you already are?"

  "Expand, if it pleases you, Majesty," Tevra said. "The main

  chamber has already been customized to Najlah's needs, I think,

  and knocking down a wall or two to connect the neighboring rooms

  seems easier than rebuilding all of that in a different part of the

  castle."

  "It shall be done. You three are dismissed." Wyst pushed to

  his feet. "Now that business is finally concluded, I would like to go

  see my cousin's new darling. My niece, I suppose, for simplicity's

  sake."

  Poryth laughed. "I'm impressed you lasted this long, beloved."

  He took the hand Wyst offered, and the royal couple led the way out

  of the room and down the hall, until they all split up to go their

  separate ways.

  *~*~*

  Thanks to the ruthless efficiency of the Lukos in making