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Her hands were on her hips, her right toe tapping. The Southern Dragon, bigger than a house and with a row of spear point spikes along his spine, looked bemused--as well he might. Julia often had that effect on people. Who else would open parley with a dragon by chiding him like a naughty puppy? The dragon opened his mouth and sent a stream of flame to incinerate a nearby pine tree which flared like a torch before falling into powdery ash in the intensity of the maintained flame.
The dragon blinked in a satisfied manner, then glanced sideways to see how Julia had taken the demonstration of power. Julia tilted her head, listening to the crr-crr-crr, then stared directly into the dragon's sapphire eyes. She gave up on her ash ruined velvet skirt and sat down on a chunk of rock. No one had expected her dad to become king.
He'd been a younger son and the whole family was content to exist in a crumbling drafty castle, interfering in village affairs and pursuing their odd hobbies. But the unexpected death of both the king and his son--their uncle and cousin--in a coaching accident had propelled the charming but impractical family willy-nilly into court life. The then royal steward--who had known Julia's dad when he was a boy--had retired on the spot. The remaining members of the royal household went around looking confused, but lately Julia had seen s that they were being seduced into the madness dragon bride flash her family.
Just the other day she had seen the Sewing Mistress making a vest for her sister Emily's half bald pet parrot.
Jake the parrot had been Eric's last gift to the family--and he hadn't considered the language that old bird already knew. If Julia's dad ever wanted to swear at his stuffed shirt royal advisers he just borrowed Jake and let the bird talk. The advisers were soon cussed out of the chamber and Jake rewarded with his favourite treat of sultanas soaked in rum.
Really it was Eric's responsibility to parley with the dragon, but Eric was off discovering the Farawy Islands and currently out of contact somewhere on the uncharted seas. Your hijacking of the Waylin Mountains, and particularly, of Port Argen, is causing Dad's hair to fall out.
Without it we don't have the money to buy other goods, import goods, important things like coffee. I can live without coffee, if I have to, but the loss of the silver trade has thrown thousands of people out of work--miners, traders, silversmiths--and that's flowed on to depress other sectors of the economy. Vanarre has always been a happy country and we can't just sit around and let you ruin it.
The Southern Dragon huffed, sending the heap of white ash spiraling into the air. I don't think Vanarre can cope with a dragon and a war. Cut the cackle and tell me your proposition.
The question then is what do we have that a dragon could want. It can't be gold since it's untarnishing silver that Vanarre is famous for. Clearly you don't eat people or livestock. She sneezed again. So good that sometimes people think my paintings are real.
Julia sat back down, bruising her bottom on the rock.
The dragon coughed, and for the first time, looked embarrassed. He shuffled his huge feet. Julia scowled. Julia gave him a scornful look. Since there was no time like the present, they sought out the Hermit of Holy Wood who was also a priest, and therefore, capable of marrying them.
Although whether he would or not, Julia wasn't willing to wager. Since she hadn't, Julia huffed again, and started walking. The path down the mountain circled to right, then the left and stopped abruptly at the Hermit's hut. She raised her hand to knock, when the door opened. He brushed breadcrumbs off his white beard. Don't tell me you've done it, Lucas? You've found a bride? She closed it with a snap. How did the Southern Dragon, scourge of the mountains, know the Hermit?
She made a mental vow to find out, later.
Delighted," said the Hermit. Are you ready, my dear? She nodded, thinking of Lucas in one of the fashionable city cathedrals. The noble ladies would faint.
So would the archbishop. And that was that. Within ten minutes, Julia found herself married to Lucas the Southern Dragon.
She frowned. He smiled, evilly. She gave an uncertain giggle. After all, she could hardly claim great tidiness herself. She brushed once more at her ash-ruined skirt. She thought about her last statement. We could have delayed the wedding. She did so in a gentle swirl of dust that coated her opalescent, blush pink scales and set Julia coughing.
Lucas sighed. Smoke issued from his nostrils, adding to Julia's breathing problems. Julia, this is Mom. Besides, sulking is so unattractive. When he exhaled, the smoke had gone. I won. Julia held a hand to her chest as her breathing steadied.
He needs responsibility. At the moment, he's too airy fairy. He meddles.
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The dragoness inclined her head in graceful agreement. Julia grinned. Family dynamics, you had to love them. And it seemed even dragons could be trapped into juvenile patterns. I believe she can be saved. There was no need to marry a princess. Julia gripped one of Lucas's talons and held it tightly.
What happens to dragons who marry princesses? Julia sniffed, offended. She released Lucas's talon. I call that rude. The hero tag is because our marriage is a I'm willing to interest myself in human affairs. That means magical and practical challenges of hero status.
I don't want him hurt defending your kingdom. It's my family.
Dad needs an adviser. My brother needs finding. My mom needs a friend. And my sisters need spanking. Just yesterday they tried to capture a griffin.
We're chaos. She sent a sparkling look in Maura's direction. If he takes on my family, he'll have it in spades.
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Lucas sighed, but this time, without smoking. If you'll climb aboard, Julia, we'll fly down to the palace. I suppose I should meet my new responsibilities.