Page 15 of Blood Singer

"A romantic at heart." Something knowing flickered in Murdette's tone, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. "That's not a bad thing, though I'd caution you to remember that even the most beautiful stories have their dark moments."

Before I could figure out how to respond to that, the doors at the far end of the hall opened, and Kavan entered. Everyone seated around the table rose at once.

The air in the room shifted. I felt it against my skin, a charge like static electricity before a storm. He'd changed since the landing platform, trading his formal robes for something simpler. Dark trousers and a loose white shirt that somehow made him look even more imposing. His white hair hung unbound past his shoulders in a way that should have looked feminine but instead made him look wild and dangerous.

His golden eyes swept the room, landing on me for just a breath before moving on. I couldn't read his expression, couldn't tell if he was still angry or if he'd calmed down in the hours since our confrontation.

But I noticed the slight tension in his jaw as he looked away from me, and the deliberate care with which he moved the chair at the head of the table slightly to the left, as far from mine as the seating arrangement allowed. He wanted distance.

That told me more than his expression would have. The ache in my chest told me more than I wanted to know as well.

"Good evening," he said. His voice carried easily across the space. "Thank you all for joining me."

He sat, and the rest of us followed. I was acutely aware of the distance between us. He was at least ten feet away, but it felt both too close and not close enough. His scent reached me even from there, that same combination of leather and pine and wild wind that had unsettled me at the landing platform.

Focus, I told myself firmly. You're here to do a job, not to moon over a dragon king who thinks you're part of some conspiracy.

"I've had the kitchen prepare some Earth dishes, Leila," Murdette said, breaking the silence. "Though I'm not sure how much you'll recognize them. My memories of Earth cuisine are from a very different era than yours."

"I'm sure whatever they've made will be wonderful," I said, grateful for the neutral topic. "And please, call me Leila. 'Lady Hunter' makes me feel like I should be wearing a corset and fainting at the first sign of impropriety."

Murdette's smile widened. "Leila, then. And you must call me Murdette. We're not terribly formal here, despite all the trappings." She gestured around the grand dining hall with a hint of amusement.

Servants began bringing out dishes. Some kind of roasted bird that smelled incredible, root vegetables glazed with something sweet, fresh bread still steaming, and what looked like a medieval version of a salad. My stomach growled audibly, reminding me I'd been too nervous to eat much on the transport.

"Please, eat," Kavan said. He was watching me again, his expression unreadable. "You must be hungry after your journey."

I picked up my fork, trying to ignore the slight unsteadiness of my hands. The fowl was perfectly cooked, tender and flavorful, and the vegetables were unlike anything I'd tasted before, earthy and sweet at the same time.

"This is delicious," I said honestly. "Thank you for going to the trouble."

"It was no trouble," Murdette said. "Though I'll admit, I'm curious whether the flavors are at all familiar to you. Food has changed so much over the centuries from what I understand. When I left Earth, tomatoes were still considered poisonous in most of Europe."

"Really?" I asked, momentarily distracted from my nerves. "I had no idea."

"Oh yes. And potatoes hadn't even made it throughout Europe yet. No coffee, no chocolate, no tea." Murdette shook her head. "The Alliance has spoiled me terribly with their food replicators. I can have anything I want from any era or culture."

"The replicators are remarkable," I agreed. "Though there's something special about food that's actually cooked. It tastes different somehow."

"It does." Kavan's voice drew my attention back to him. He was watching me with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Food prepared with care and intention has a quality replication can't quite capture."

There was something underneath his words I couldn't quite untangle, something in the way his gaze dropped briefly to the table before returning to my face, as if he was measuring how much he'd revealed and recalibrating. I let it pass without reaching for it.

"Speaking of the Alliance's technology," Sanyra said, smoothly redirecting the conversation, "we were hoping to discuss what assistance might be available to help Drakhone recover after the hibernation. Seven hundred and fifty years is a long time to be asleep, even for dragons, and I'm sure you can imagine how far behind we've fallen."

I nodded, grateful for the shift to business. This was safer territory, something I could handle without getting distracted by golden eyes and impossible scents.

"The Prime is committed to helping with your reintegration," I said, slipping into the professional tone I'd practiced. "We understand the hibernation has put you at a significant disadvantage, and we want to help bridge that gap. What areas are your highest priorities?"

Kavan leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming once on the armrest before he stilled them with the conscious effort of a man used to controlling every tell. "Medical technology, primarily. We lost forty-seven people during hibernation, individuals whose bodies couldn't withstand the stasis. Our medi units are functional, but they're centuries behind Alliance standards. We lack the diagnostic capabilities and monitoring systems that might have saved them."

The pain in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. My chest tightened with sympathy. "I'm so sorry," I said quietly. "I can't imagine how difficult that must have been."

His eyes met mine, and for a breath, something raw and unguarded crossed his expression. Then it was gone, replaced by the careful mask of a king, and he looked away, back to his plate, to the candle flame, anywhere but at me.

"We also need assistance with interstellar travel," he continued. "Our ships are functional but outdated. The propulsion systems work, but they're slow compared to current Alliance vessels. If we're going to maintain our place in the Alliance and rebuild our infrastructure, we need faster, more efficient travel between systems."

"That makes sense," I said, already thinking through the logistics. "What I'd suggest is sending a team of engineers to assess your current systems first. We can identify what's salvageable, what needs replacement, and what can be upgraded in stages. Immediate overhauls would be expensive and disruptive. A phased approach would be more practical."