Page 37 of Ale Storm

“Huh. What do you want from me? And, uhm, what did you come to talk to Jildarin about this morning?”

“He hasn’t told you?” Did Killaynia sound… bemused? “He spoke highly of his business partner and bookkeeper. I gathered you are a confidante for him.”

“It’s been a busy day, and he had to start prepping for the lunch service as soon as he got back. He does talk to me.” Maybe Rylana shouldn’t have admitted closeness to Jildarin, but the sister hadn’t threatened her life. “Cooking is his priority, however. Even when we’re talking about other things, his mind drifts often to topics related to his passion. Like pickling porcinis.”

“I’m aware that he learned to love food, and preparing it in ways atypical for a dragon, from the elf warrior—and chef—whom he often flew into battle with during the war.”

Rylana nodded. “Jildarin told me about him. I gather they were close.”

Killaynia gazed thoughtfully at her. “He speaks of the passing of his elven comrade to few. Perhaps you are a confidante.”

“I think so.”

“Mother thinks you’re using potions to seduce Jildarin and are taking revenge upon our kind by keeping him from mating with fertile females who would then produce superior offspring. She’s worried you’ll find a way to kill him in the end.”

“That’s an interesting hypothesis.” Rylana was aware of other people standing on the dock, queued up to take the ferry to the city, and kept her voice down.

Killaynia surprised her by chuckling. “As I told her. I’m not sure she really believes that. Aunt Lysilria particularly loathes you and has been telling our mother stories. She’s mostly frustrated that he’s wasting his time with you and not doing what he’s told.”

“I understand it’s tedious to parents when their children aren’t obedient, but isn’t Jildarin of the age when it’s expected to be independent?”

“You’re never supposed to be independent of she who hatched you. It’s a dragon rule.”

There was some amusement in Killaynia’s eyes, but Rylana couldn’t tell if she was joking or stating a truth. Did dragons even know how to joke? Jildarin had tried it a few times but hadn’t quite gotten the knack, at least when it came to human humor.

“I came of my own accord to see if a solution could be achieved,” Killaynia said. “One different from what our aunt has ordered be done.”

“Killing me?” Rylana thought of the warning that Zilek had given Sylin.

“Yes, that’s what she wants. I came to see how strong Jildarin’s emotions regarding you are. After speaking with him this morning, and hearing about the many ways you’ve apparently stood by his side and helped him with his business—that latter being particularly important—I believe he has genuine feelings for you. Feelings that couldn’t be inspired by a potion.”

“I think he does too.”

“It could create a deep rift between Jildarin and our aunt—if not between Jildarin and Mother and the entire clan—if one of his eager female pursuers killed you. Originally, I suggested we find him a male replacement bookkeeper before slaying you, but it sounds like you may do more than his calculations.” Killaynia looked her up and down and shook her head, as if having a hard time imagining there being anything special about Rylana.

“I sell his surplus ovens too,” she said, though she’d gotten rid of the last of those weeks earlier.

“I… do not know what that refers to. Sex?”

“Not exactly.” Rylana felt encouraged that Killaynia seemed somewhat reasonable—she was, at least, not hostile—and said, “Look. I don’t want to create a rift between Jildarin and his family. I never even wanted— I mean, I didn’t plan to get involved with a dragon. That’s a crazy idea. It’s not like we could ever be… I mean, as he’s informed me many times, it’s not logical for a human and a dragon to be together.” Some of her ongoing frustration with the matter—and the fact that all these dragons wanted her dead for being a distraction—made the words burble out faster and with more passion than she’d intended. “He doesn’t believe in recreational mating, and it’s not like I could give him babies or hatchlings or whatever. Even if I could with magic or something, it’s not what I’m looking for. Despite my father’s most recent concern, I have no plans to make babies to carry on the family shipping dynasty.”

Two hells, that was far more than she’d intended to share with a stranger. Especially a dragon stranger. She was glad the people waiting nearby had loaded, and the ferry was departing, heading back to the city.

“You are drawn to him because he’s a powerful dragon and has allure.” Killaynia shrugged, not appearing moved by Rylana’s impassioned sharing. “There is nothing surprising about that. What is more surprising is that he is drawn to you.” She shrugged again. “But I accept that it has occurred and that you, for whatever perplexing reason, have some sway over him.”

“I’m not sure how much sway I have.” Rylana didn’t want Jildarin’s family to think they could talk her into trying to manipulate him in any way. That would feel like a betrayal.

“Much, I believe.” Killaynia’s eyes narrowed. “I believe that if he mated with the Sunclaw females and perhaps a few others when they flew into the area, they could forgive you your existence.

“Forgive me my existence?”

Killaynia might seem more reasonable than the others, but that was one of the more condescending things a dragon had said to Rylana. The mating suggestion didn’t surprise her—Zilek had told Jildarin to do that when she’d been eavesdropping on their conversation—but it was hard not to find it all offensive.

“Right now, there’s a lot of outrage that Jildarin is allowing a female human to share his lair, mate with him, and ride on his back. It’s so unheard of among our kind that it has prompted wild speculation about how you’ve gained power over him. Even dragons in other clans are speaking of it.”

Rylana groaned. There was little she wanted less in her life than to be the subject of dragon gossip.

“I believe the potion hypothesis was born out of that,” Killaynia added. “The female dragons need an explanation for Jildarin’s mystifying behavior. How could he prefer your company over theirs? Certainly, they believe, if he were not ensorcelled, he would be eager to sate himself with them.” She bared her teeth. Was that a smile? Or a threatening gesture? Her eyes looked more amused than threatening, but, if shape-shifting wasn’t familiar to her, who knew how much control she had over her elven body?