Rilvor and Jasen woke early the next morning. His dad roused himself enough to murmur a bleary good-bye. He was going to stay at the inn for the few days that Rilvor and Jasen would be gone, after which they would bring him back to the palace with them. Or rather, that was Rilvor’s plan. Who knew what would really happen.

Since they were traveling to Rakon via dragon and horses did not do well around dragons, he and Rilvor had to walk to the nearest draemir. Jasen didn’t mind—it had been a long time since he’d gotten in a decent hike. They left their belongings at the inn, as all their other needs would be provided for once they reached Rakon. The one special item they brought was Rilvor’s Drae’s cloak, which was also hidden with magic. Wearing it made communion with the dragons easier.

The walk lasted about an hour. When they reached the draemir, Rilvor put his hand on the jewel of the Drae’s cloak. “They shouldn’t be long. I reached them earlier this morning.”

“What does it feel like?” Jasen asked. “Communing with the dragons, I mean.”

Rilvor thought for a moment. “Like fishing.”

Jasen blinked. “Fishing? How do you mean?”

“Have you ever been fishing?”

“Of course I have! It’s practically a national pastime in Grumhul.”

Rilvor chuckled. “Forgive me. You have become such a creature of Court that I sometimes forget that you aren’t a typical noble. So as you know, when you fish, you put out your line, and you wait. Eventually, you feel a tug. Once you do, you begin to pull it in. Instead of a fishing line, you use your attention. It requires some concentration, and most of all, patience.” Rilvor patted the jewel clasp of his cloak. “This helps.”

“So you just—think it?”

“In a sense, although I wouldn’t call it ‘thinking,’ since you need to set your thoughts aside.”

“Set your thoughts aside?” He scoffed. “Where on earth are you supposed to put them?”

Rilvor laughed again and then gave Jasen a thoughtful look. He took off his cloak and put it on Jasen’s shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Jasen asked as he clasped it.

“I am going to teach you how to call the dragons.”

Jasen furrowed his brow. “That isn’t possible. I don’t have any magic.”

“But you have a connection with Tasenred, and I have felt the power in you, ever since you first arrived.”

“You have?”

“Don’t you remember, when we first met in the draemir?”

He did. It seemed like a lifetime ago, when in reality it had only been a few months, but he remembered that warm feeling when he wore the cloak. As soon as he thought of it, he felt it again. He sucked in a breath.

“You feel it again,” Rilvor said. It wasn’t a question.

Jasen nodded.

“Sit down with me.”

They sank to the ground and sat, cross-legged. “Close your eyes,” Rilvor said. “And draw your attention to your breath.”

“I thought I was supposed to draw my attention to the dragons.”

“You need to gather your attention first. Think of it as getting your fishing rod ready. Once the line is in place, you can cast it out.”

“How will I know I’m ready?”

“You’ll feel it.”

Jasen was still skeptical, but he shut his eyes and tried all the same. But every time he managed to focus on his breath, his attention would shatter a moment later. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there—long enough for him to be uncomfortable.

Sighing, he opened his eyes. “It’s not working.”

“Let us try another way.” Rilvor put his hand on his back. All at once, Jasen felt a warmth in his chest. “Do you feel that?”

Jasen nodded. “It’s warm.”

“Close your eyes again and put your attention there, with the beat of your heart.”

Jasen did as he was told. One by one, his thoughts and worries left him until all that was left was Rilvor’s hand on his back, and the beating of his heart.

“Good,” Rilvor said, his voice low. “Cast your mind out now. Look for Tasenrad. He’s searching for you.”

Jasen thought of the dragon. Before long, he felt a tug on his mind, just as Rilvor said he would. He tugged back. And then he “saw” Tasenred in his mind’s eye—not just a memory or an imagining, but as clearly as if the dragon were already there, with his red scales gleaming in the sunlight as he flew through the air. He saw Woria, too, flying right beside him. The image grew more and more intense, realer than real now, as if he both saw Tasenred and was seeing through Tasenred’s eyes as he swooped downward—

It became too much. He gasped and opened his eyes—and there the dragon was, standing in front of him. Woria was there, too. He hadn’t even heard them land.

Rilvor removed his hand from Jasen’s back. “Well done.”

Jasen felt dazed, but managed to get to his feet. He moved to Tasenred’s side, almost feeling more like he was floating than walking. The dragon lowered his head to meet him. Jasen leaned his forehead against the dragon’s cheek, shutting his eyes and breathing in.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

He felt something stir in the dragon and in his own heart—he could feel that Tasenred felt the same. A loud snort from Woria startled him. He left Tasenred to approach the other dragon. “It’s good to see you as well,” he said, giving her a bow. She let out a snort and rumbled toward him, lowering her head until they were face to face. Jasen put his hand on her cheek, which seemed to please her.

He turned back to Rilvor, whose eyes were sparkling. “Shall we?” Rilvor said.

Both of the dragons laid their bodies on the ground. Jasen found it a little difficult getting onto the dragon’s back, but once he was there, he knew precisely where to sit and how to hold himself. As soon as he was settled, Tasenred began to move, first at a lumber, and then more and more quickly, until at last, they were in the air.

The view from the air was breathtaking—he’d never imagined land could look like that. The higher they got, the smaller things seemed, until Jasen felt as if he were a giant, or a god. All of his doubts and sorrows vanished. Here in the sky, he felt as if he could breathe at last. Rilvor and Woria kept pace beside them. Even though he couldn’t see him very well, Jasen felt a connection with Rilvor that was strong and strange and full of a joy he didn’t know it was possible to feel.

Some time passed, although it was impossible for Jasen to determine how long. They passed over several rocky peaks until they reached a valley. Jasen gasped at the beauty of it. There was a lake, so perfect and clear that it reflected the sky as clearly as a mirror. Surrounding the lake was a field of flowers, so numerous and varied that it was as if seeing a rainbow painted on the ground. Along the edges of the valley were woodlands—the trees continued from the valley and up onto the mountain side, like a green blanket.

The dragons landed amongst the wildflowers. Jasen slid off of Tasenred’s back and saw Rilvor dismounting as well. As soon as they had deposited their passengers, the dragons took off again, dancing around each other in the sky just as Jasen had seen them do on his arrival to the Draethenper so many months ago.

“Welcome to Rakon,” Rilvor said.

“It’s beautiful.” That felt woefully inadequate. No wonder Rilvor missed this. His heart felt lighter here, almost like he had stepped into a dream.

Rilvor held out his hand. “Come—let me show you where we’ll be staying.”

After a brief walk, they reached a cottage at the edge of the woods. A charming little vegetable garden was off to one side. The interior consisted of only one room. There was a small, clay-lined pit in the center of the room that held the ashes of a fire. Over the pit was a small pot, suspended by a crude tripod. The walls were hung with a few tools that would prove useful for life in the woods, some herbs, and what looked like a side of salted meat. A small table sat off in one corner. Two wooden bowls and two chalices had been placed on the table, as well as a large basket, which was covered by a cloth. Another corner contained a straw mattress lying directly on the floor, beside which was a large trunk.

The furnishings may have been simple, but they all seemed well-crafted, and the cottage was clean, with fresh-smelling rushes on the floor.

“This is the home of Brother Vyncis,” Rilvor said. “He’s a childhood friend of mine.”

“It seems a bit small in here for three people.”

Rilvor laughed. “He won’t be joining us. Brother Vyncis often makes journeys into the wilderness, to better commune with the natural world. He was delighted to lend us the use of the cabin for a few days—he’s always admonishing me to take some time away from the palace. I haven’t been able to do that in quite some time.” Rilvor hesitated. “I hope this isn’t too rustic for you.”

Jasen smiled. “It’s perfect.”

Rilvor flushed with pleasure. He went to the table and took the cloth off of the basket. “Ah, he was able to find them!”

“Find what?”

Rilvor picked up the basket and brought it to Jasen. Jasen peered inside at red fruit.

“Strawberries,” Rilvor said. “Just for you.”

It took Jasen a moment before he remembered their first conversation, all the way back in the draemir when Jasen hadn’t known he was speaking to a king. He laughed. “I did say I wanted strawberries, didn’t I? I’ve only ever had them once.”

“These are more tart than the ones that grow in the lowlands.”

Jasen popped one into his mouth. It was more tangy than sweet, but somehow he liked it even more. “It’s delicious.”

Rilvor seemed pleased. “We’ll bring them with us.”

“Where are we going?”

“You mentioned you enjoy fishing. We can catch our lunch.”

Jasen grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

The fishing rods had been hung on the wall beside the rest of the tools. They retrieved them as well as a few additional supplies before setting off. Jasen was a bit tired from their early morning hike, but the prospect of fishing by the beautiful lake energized him. They moved at a slower pace than they had that morning, enjoying the beauty of the surroundings.

Finally, they reached the lake. It was just as lovely as it had been from the air, although it felt more real now, not just some impossibly beautiful but distant image. Rilvor dropped to his hands knees and began sifting through the rich soil.

“What are you doing?”

Rilvor gave him a wry look over his shoulder. “Looking for bait, of course.”

Jasen laughed. “I wonder what people would think if they saw their king digging for worms.”

“No doubt it would cause a worm-digging craze. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

Jasen gladly got into the dirt with him. They both laughed a little, as if they were overgrown children. “This is much more fun than Court amusements,” Jasen said.

“I whole-heartedly agree.”

Soon they had several big, juicy worms to bait their hooks. They cast their lines out into the water and settled in to wait for the fish to bite. Jasen breathed in the musty smell of the lake and shut his eyes, enjoying the sunshine on his face. It was heaven.

“What happened in Westrona?” Jasen asked after a little while. In all the excitement, he had forgotten to ask.

“It is going to take some time before things are set to order, but I believe the dragons have chosen the new ruler wisely.”

“Is it a king or a queen?”

“Neither.”

Jasen cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“The young lady upon whom the dragons called has decided that there will be no more kings and queens in Westrona. She has agreed to preside over the transition of power, but has not committed to maintaining her position indefinitely.”

“But if there’s no king or queen, who will be in charge? The new nobles?”

“She is disinclined to appoint new nobles as well.”

Jasen stared at him in bafflement. “That sounds like complete chaos! How does she plan for them to keep order?”

“She has an idea—a rather radical one, but I think it has the chance of working. She is collecting the money that would normally be paid in rent to the nobles and starting a fund to appoint justices and a protection force to protect the people from wrongdoers. Other decisions will be put to the people.” The look on Jasen’s face much have been comical, because Rilvor laughed a little. “You seem scandalized. Is that not how Grumhul works? You’ve said yourself that Grumhulians have a say in the law.”

“Yes, but not the final say! What if the people choose unwisely?”

“I imagine the same thing as when the nobles choose poorly.”

Jasen shook his head. The idea seemed incredible to him. “And the dragons are for it?”

“The dragons chose who they thought would be the best leader. They defer to her.”

“And what if the dragons decide that there’s to be no more kings and queens at all?”

“There may come a time when there are no kings and queens, but that is something that we will face when we come to it. As you know, I have no great love for being a king, although I will never shirk from my duty as long as I am needed.” Rilvor peered at him. “I believe we have similar feelings on the subject, yes?”

Jasen wasn’t sure how to respond. “What happened to the nobles who were deposed?”

“They were sent to provinces different from the ones they had presided over and given homes and a choice of professions to learn.”

“That’s going to be difficult for them, I imagine.”

“Yes, but it is preferable to being demolished in flames.”

“I suppose so.” Jasen felt a tug on his line. “Oh! I think I’ve got something!”

Sure enough, Jasen had snagged a fish. Rilvor made quick work of it, preparing it with a knife they had brought from the cottage, and then strung it up. They waited a little while longer until they’d caught a few more fish before heading back to the cottage.

By then, Jasen was starving. He’d snacked on the strawberries while they were fishing, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. They roasted the fish outside over an open flame, along with some vegetables from the garden. They ate stretched out on the grass beside each other.

Jasen put aside his plate with a contented sigh. “That was delicious.”

“Agreed.”

Jasen reached into the basket and pulled out a couple of the remaining strawberries. “Would you like one?”

“Certainly.”

On impulse, instead of handing it to him, Jasen pressed the berry against his lips. Rilvor froze for a moment, his eyes wide, but then he accepted the fruit, his tongue licking briefly at Jasen’s fingers. A wave of desire flooded through Jasen. From the heavy-lidded look Rilvor was giving him, it seemed he felt the same way.

Rilvor moved forward slowly, as if in a dream. He put his hand on the back of Jasen’s neck, threading his fingers through his hair. Their faces were so close that Jasen could feel his breath on his cheek. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured. “But if I do, I won’t want to stop.”

“Then don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, Jasen put his lips against Rilvor’s, who eagerly returned the kiss. Soon they were wrapped up in each other, falling back on the grass as they kissed again and again. All thoughts of the Court and its intrigues dissolved from Jasen’s mind, given at last the full consideration they deserved—that is to say, none at all.

They shed their clothes and found pleasure with each other right there in the grass, beneath the bright blue sky. There was nothing they could do together that would be new to Jasen—his body fell into the familiar motions, the kisses and caresses, the feel of mouths and hands moving together to bring each other to climax. But while the mechanics of it were familiar, the feeling behind it was not. Jasen had always approached sex as a respite from boredom and loneliness. It was different with Rilvor. His whole self—body, heart, and soul—was swept away in utter bliss, so sweet that he never wanted it to end.

Rilvor must have felt the same way, for they moved into the cottage and did it again. When they were at last too spent to do more, they lay together under the furs, with Jasen’s head against Rilvor’s chest. Rilvor was stroking Jasen’s hair languidly. It felt so good that Jasen could have drifted off then, even though the sun was still up. Unfortunately, his mind started up its usual chatter. He sighed. They needed to talk.

“I’ve done this before,” Jasen said before he could think better of it.

To his surprise, Rilvor chuckled a little. “So I gathered.”

Jasen frowned. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course not. Did you really think it would?”

“Well—yes. I’m supposed to be a virgin.”

“You are ‘supposed’ to be many things, all of which I am very glad you are not.” He kissed his forehead. “You should have told me sooner. I would have not been so worried about scandalizing you.”

Jasen felt relieved—and then something occurred to him. “You’ve done this before, too.”

“Surely you didn’t think I was a virgin. I am a father.”

“Yes, but your wife was—well, a woman. You seemed to have a pretty good handle on the differences.”

Rilvor laughed. “I’m glad you think so.” He kissed his shoulder, moving toward his neck.

Jasen pulled away from him and sat up. He wouldn’t let himself be distracted. “But you were married when you were seventeen.” All at once, Jasen remembered the conversation he’d overheard between Adwig and Rilvor—how Adwig had said he wouldn’t interfere with the king’s ‘pleasures.’ “You weren’t faithful to your wife, were you?”

Rilvor sat up as well. He rubbed his temple. “No. I was not.”

“Did she know?”

“Yes. We had an agreement. My preference has always been for men. I told her that before we were married. We agreed that we could both seek other lovers while still fulfilling our duties.”

“So it was a loveless marriage.”

“Not loveless, no. Quendra was the mother of my children, and a dear friend. But I did not love her as a husband should love his wife.”

“So infidelity is something you are willing to live with?”

“Only because we had no other choice. I certainly wouldn’t want that again.” Rilvor frowned. “Would you?”

Jasen put his hands over his face and gathered himself. “When I said I’ve done this before, I mean that I’ve done this a lot before.”

Rilvor looked at him blankly. “And you don’t think that I could…satisfy you?”

“No! That’s not it at all!” There was little sense in delaying it—he might as well get it over with. “Minister Adwig spoke to me yesterday morning. He knows about my past. An ex-lover, who tried to blackmail me a few days ago, took his story to Adwig when I told him I wouldn’t pay.”

Rilvor grew still. “And he dares to think that the word of a blackmailer is sufficient to stand against my choice of a spouse?”

Jasen bit his lip. “There’s more. He claims he has proof that I’ve been having an affair with a guard. It isn’t true,” he added quickly. “But the guard in question is a friend of mine. He has witnesses to seeing the two of us together. And another friend of mine, we—well, we don’t always behave as proper consorts should. He has witnesses to that, too.”

Rilvor said nothing for a few agonizing moments. When he spoke again, his voice was cold with barely restrained fury. “The minister has grossly overstepped his authority. The approval of my marriage by the council of ministers is a formality, not a law. I am their king. I will not tolerate such insubordination. Any minister who speaks against my choice will be dismissed.”

“What if they all do? Will you get rid of them all?”

“If I must.”

“And how will that look? The entire council of ministers thrown out over their objections to the marriage of their king to a promiscuous, penniless young lord—from Grumhul, no less?”

“It does not matter what anyone thinks!” Rilvor nearly roared.

Jasen winced at the anger in his voice, but he couldn’t let the matter go. “That isn’t true, and you know it. Everyone’s already on edge because of the situation in Westrona. Having their king debase himself and make a whore the king consort isn’t going to help matters.”

Rilvor looked as if he’d been slapped. He took Jasen’s hands in his own and kissed them. “How can you speak of yourself in such a manner?”

“It’s what the Court will say. You know that’s true.”

“I won’t allow it.”

“You can’t control what people think. The more you fight against it, the worse they’ll think of me. They’ll assume I’m egging you on and they’ll hate me all the more. Worse yet, they will lose faith in you. I can’t let that happen.”

Understanding dawned on Rilvor’s face. “What are you saying? Are you refusing me?”

Jasen took a deep breath. “Adwig made me an offer. I could be your official paramour—”

“—and I would marry someone else?” Rilvor cut him off. “No. It is impossible.”

“Why? You’ve done it before.”

“And it killed Quendra!”

A shock of cold pierced his heart. “What? How?”

Rilvor held his head in his hands. When he finally looked up, Jasen was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “We had an arrangement, as I said. And it worked well enough for many years. I had my lovers, and she had hers. But then I fell in love. His name was Gileon. We met two years before my wife’s death. I was always very upfront with my lovers, making sure they understood that I was not looking for anything beyond someone to share my bed on occasion. But somehow, in spite of my best intentions, we fell in love. And that was when Quendra’s health began to fail.

“None of us made the connection immediately. Why would we? But the marriage between the Lord of the Drae and his spouse is so much more than a simple marriage. The bond between Quendra and I had to be strong enough to bear the burden of the connection between humanity and the dragons. And it was—as I said, we really did care for one another. I loved her as a friend, and it was enough. But when I fell in love with Gileon, that bond was strained.” His voice became so soft that Jasen struggled to hear. “By the time I realized it, it was too late. No healers could save her. And so she died.” He put his face in his hands again. “And it was my fault.”

His shoulders shook, although he barely made a sound. Jasen put a hand on his back, unsure of what else he could do. He only spoke again once Rilvor had calmed. “And you’re sure that’s what happened?” he asked gently.

Rilvor wiped the tears from his eyes. “What else could it be? None of the healers were able to find a cause.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

“I am not willing to risk another life in order to prove my theory.” Rilvor took Jasen’s face in his hands and kissed him desperately. “Jasen, I love you with all of my heart. I cannot marry another. Please say that you will marry me—please.”

Jasen pulled himself away gently. “I need time to think.”

Rilvor’s gaze hardened. “If you were going to refuse me, then why did you agree to come here at all?”

“Because I love you, too!” Jasen said miserably. “But what happens if our marriage weakens your reign? How would you feel about me then?”

“I would never hold you accountable for what is not your fault—”

“What happened to Gileon?” Jasen interrupted.

That stopped Rilvor short. It took him several moments to reply. “I asked him to return to his home kingdom.”

“Because you blamed him for Quendra’s death?”

“No. Because I blamed myself.”

“But you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any more, could you? How would it be different between us if our marriage causes a crisis in the Allied Realms?”

They lapsed into silence. Outside, the sun was setting, and the cottage grew dimmer and dimmer. At last, Rilvor heaved a great sigh and drew Jasen into his arms again. “Your caution speaks well of your character. I agree that there may be some difficulty with Court at first, but I also think that the scandal will pass. You are more popular than you realize. I am willing to take the risk—but it is unfair of me to ask you to do the same, if you feel you cannot bear it. Will you at least give the matter some more thought before you give me your final answer?”

“All right,” Jase said quietly.

“Very well. I think you should return to Grumhul with your father. I can give you a month to decide, but no longer.”

“I understand.”

Rilvor kissed him. “Then let us speak no more of it tonight, and try to get some rest.”

Before long, Rilvor’s breath steadied as he slipped into sleep. Jasen clung to consciousness a little longer, wanting to savor every moment in Rilvor’s arms. He had a feeling these moments might be their last.