Rysha strolled arm-in-arm with Trip through the castle hallway toward the gardens, this time for a wedding rather than an awards ceremony. She would stand next to Kaika as one of her two chosen kin watchers, Major Blazer being the second. As kin watchers, they were responsible for ensuring the groom was sufficiently healthy and able to care for his bride. The duty amused Rysha vastly, given that Kaika was the last person who needed anyone to care for her… and Angulus surely qualified in any regard. But it was tradition. Fortunately, until the ceremony began, she was free to mingle and grope Trip’s arm.

He looked particularly handsome today, having chosen his dress uniform rather than the fancy suits and sashes that many of the male guests favored. She knew it was because he didn’t want to spend money on clothing—he was carefully hoarding his nucros to help support his siblings—and that was fine with her. He looked good in a uniform. And whether intentionally or by accident, he seemed to be exuding a little of his dragon scylori today, which meant she would think he looked good in a threadbare bathrobe. Or nothing at all. Her thoughts drifted to the latter, and she smirked at him when their eyes met before they stepped out into the gardens.

They had both been busy with their duties the last few weeks, but the evening before, the weather had cooperated, and they had finally strolled along the beach together. She’d picked up sand dollars. He’d picked up rusted tins and warped springs for whatever toy he planned to build for the children next. After that, they’d had a romantic dinner and she’d taken him back to her room, where they’d spent a lovely and uninterrupted night together.

Trip blinked. “You’re imagining me naked.”

“And you’re reading my mind.”

“I didn’t try. I… it was near the surface.”

“It often is.”

His eyebrows rose. “Truly?”

“Yes, and if you don’t often think of me naked, too, I’m going to be disappointed.”

Another couple walked past then, an older husband and wife Rysha recognized from some of the social gatherings the nobles attended, and they gave her a scandalized look. She assumed they would fall over when they saw that Kaika and both of her kin watchers were active-duty military and attending the wedding in uniforms instead of fluffy, frilly dresses.

I do think of you naked often, Trip said, switching to telepathy, for others were strolling past them and into the gardens. But I’m male. I believe such fantasizing is part of our nature. I always thought—your Aunt Tadelay has been reinforcing this notion, by the way—that women were less lustful and controlled by their, uhm, reproductive urges.

You ought to know that’s not true. I’m usually the one to drag you off to bed because you’re distracted making toys and puzzles for babies, and gifts for Sardelle and me. Besides, you’ve met Kaika. You know she’s plenty lustful.

This is true. It’s hard to imagine her and Angulus… I mean, he’s so serious and unflappable. He barely reacts to anything outwardly, at least when he’s around us.

I’m sure he lets loose in bed and howls like a wolf.

Trip looked horrified and braced himself on the wall. I didn’t need that image in my head.

You brought it up.

Are you sure? That doesn’t sound right.

Positive. Rysha swatted him on the butt and nodded toward the doorway.

They stepped outside onto the elaborate brick-paver pathway that meandered through the gardens, leading to the same open area where the awards ceremony had been. Most of the lilacs had faded, but roses, hydrangeas, snapdragons, peonies, and winged dragons were all in bloom, filling the area with sweet and spicy scents.

Rysha had been surprised when such an early wedding date had been announced—had foreign dignitaries even had time to travel here for it?—but she’d read between the lines that Angulus was concerned Kaika would get tired of the snide comments from the newspapers and the nobility and change her mind. He must have figured that once he got his promise necklace on her, she was most definitely his.

“Are you nervous about standing next to Kaika?” Trip asked, switching to the spoken word, presumably since nudity was no longer being discussed.

“A little bit. I’m surprised she asked me. We’ve been through a lot, but I’ve really only known her for a few months. I’m honored, of course, but she’s known Blazer for years.”

“Maybe you’re the only other woman she knows.” He smirked at her.

She gave him another swat, though she admitted it was possible. Kaika had all manner of men that she worked with and likely considered friends, but in the almost-all-male elite troops, it wasn’t as if she interacted with other female officers that often. And because she was busy and traveled so frequently for her missions, she might not have that much time to pursue local friendships, especially since she’d been seeing Angulus for the last three years. He was the local friendship she no doubt preferred to invest most of her time in.

Trip nudged Rysha and drew her off the path so they wouldn’t be in the way. “I was joking. She sees you as her protégé. I think she was joking when she first used that term when we all met in General Zirkander’s office, but it’s not a joke to her anymore. She trusts you and sees you as her successor. She’s quite pleased that you’ve managed to survive all we’ve been through without getting killed or kicked out of the army.”

Rysha snorted. “Have you been reading her mind too?”

“Only the surface thoughts.”

“Totally acceptable then.”

“Sometimes, they ooze out of people, and I can’t help but notice.”

“That sounds like something Jaxi would say.”

“Yes, I believe it was her excuse originally and that I’m stealing it from her.”

Rysha withdrew a handkerchief and removed her spectacles to wipe a smudge. Her optometrist was bemused—and beriched—that she’d gone through five pairs since starting her elite troops training. She wasn’t sure dragon riders were meant to wear spectacles. But oh well, she’d worn them since she was ten. And she felt proud to have passed the training and to have survived all the tests with her crummy vision. Still, sometimes she wished…

She shook her head and started to lift her spectacles back to her face, there being no point in such wishes.

But Trip caught her wrist before she could. “I almost asked you last night,” he said, nodding toward her spectacles.

“What? Have you come up with some superior form of vision correction?” Rysha had heard of experiments regarding miniature lenses that could be applied directly to the eye, but she couldn’t imagine them staying in place.

“That’s exactly it, actually. If you’re interested. It’s something I’ve been thinking about ever since I was an ass and broke your spectacles.”

“Are you talking about the time I lost control of my sword and attacked you? That wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but it bothered me to do it. And I know it bothered you that I… knew to do it. That you had that weakness, and I exploited it.”

Rysha swallowed, memories of her feelings returning along with memories of the event.

“Yeah,” she admitted. It wasn’t as if she could lie to him.

“I’ve done some reading and talked to Sardelle about it. I believe I can do something.”

Rysha placed her spectacles in his hands. “I’ll gladly accept any improvements you can make.” She wasn’t sure about the eyeball lenses, but perhaps he could do something so her spectacles would never break or fall off in battle.

Trip nodded, lifted a hand to the side of her face, and gazed into her eyes. She gazed back at him, deciding she shouldn’t think of nudity while he was concentrating on her spectacles. Or was he? He was simply holding them with his other hand. He seemed to be concentrating on her.

A little tingle warmed her eyeballs, almost an itch. It was deep inside of them, an itch she couldn’t scratch.

A trickle of fear flowed into her, and she was tempted to pull away. Seven gods, what if he messed up, and she lost her eyesight completely? But she trusted Trip. He wouldn’t mess this up. Even if something went wrong, he would fix it. He fixed everything.

Trip blinked a few times, and she noticed moisture in his eyes. His fingers moved on her face, stroking her cheek. She hoped his touch and his emotion were because he was reading her thoughts and was moved by her trust, not that he feared he’d messed up and she would surely go blind.

One corner of his mouth quirked up. Do you feel blind?

No, but—

His eyebrows lifted, and she realized the itching and tingling had stopped. She turned to look toward the front of the gathering, and her mouth dangled open. She could see. Everyone and everything in the gardens was so crisp and clear, she couldn’t believe it. Even with her spectacles, she hadn’t seen things in the distance this well.

“You did it,” she whispered. “Will it last?”

“It’s possible it won’t last your whole life, but I think I can correct it again if necessary. And it would be a gradual diminishment, nothing that would happen overnight.”

She wanted to hug him, but she wanted to stare at everything and everyone around her too. And the flowers. She could see the individual petals on the roses from twenty feet away.

“Trip,” she blurted, whirling back to him and grabbing his arm. “You—I—” She gave up on words and kissed him.

“Is that allowed?” came a whisper from behind her. “I thought only the king got to kiss people today.”

“If a woman wants to kiss you, it’s always allowed.”

Rysha drew back, recognizing the second voice as belonging to General Zirkander, and remembering she and Trip were in the middle of a garden filled with dozens if not hundreds of people. True, they had stepped off the main walkway, but it wasn’t as if she had pulled him behind a bush for private smooching.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Trip said, saluting him and nodding to the officer with him. Captain Pimples.

Rysha hurried to salute as well.

Zirkander also wore his dress uniform, appearing far more ironed and polished than was typical for him. She’d heard he would be one of Angulus’s two kin watchers, along with a seventy-year-old nobleman—Lord Talidraw—who’d been friends with Angulus’s father and had known him since he’d been in diapers. Historically, a king would have had two kin watchers from the nobility, thus to ensure that a suitably healthy—and noble—woman would be chosen and that no sneaky commoners would slide their way into the nobility. A couple of generations ago, King Orlenis, seeking to appease the common man and acknowledge their growing power, had started the trend of including a military man, so Rysha wasn’t surprised that Angulus had chosen an officer. She was surprised he’d chosen Zirkander, since he seemed to find the pilot hero a tad… overly irreverent.

Zirkander returned the salute, but was then pulled off to talk to a general Rysha didn’t know, leaving Captain Pimples behind. Pimples, who wasn’t looking at them.

“Come in, come in,” he said, waving to someone lingering outside the gardens. “I’ll introduce you to all my— No, they’re obnoxious. Never mind. I’ll show you the gardens. And there’s always great food here. Do you want some Iskandian wine? We’ve got all different kinds. Like red. And, uhm, white.”

Rysha might have listed some grapes for him, but Pimples was focused on the bronze-skinned, dark-haired woman in spectacles who poked her head through the doorway leading out to the gardens.

“My brother said to wait for him and his entourage,” she whispered, eyeing her surroundings. “Is this it? It’s so quaint.” She wore a yellow and azure silk dress in a flowing style favored in Cofahre, and appeared to be in her early twenties.

“How big are the gardens at your palace?”

“You can get lost in them. But it’s not my palace.” She crinkled her nose. In distaste?

The words clicked together before Rysha recognized the woman—it had been some time since a photograph of Princess Zilandria had been in an Iskandian newspaper.

“Well, dragons or sorceresses or, ahem, foreign invaders seem to blow up half the castle every few years,” Pimples said, “so I don’t think the king has been motivated to expand and make it more of a target.”

“We’re having similar problems with dragons.”

Trip stirred beside Rysha.

That’s Princess Zilandria? he asked silently. If so, her brother would be…

Trip turned toward the doorway, his eyes getting that distant aspect that meant he was utilizing his power.

Prince Varlok, Rysha thought, though Trip must have already figured it out. It makes diplomatic sense that some of the Cofah would have come for the wedding of a ruler in another country. Admittedly, I wouldn’t have expected their ruler to come—the princess makes more sense. But… Ah, I bet they heard about your weapons platform and came to have a look. Perhaps barter for the schematics.

I suppose that would be up to Angulus, but I’m more concerned about my chance to honor my word to Grekka. This is good. I thought I’d have to take a trip to Cofahre to give the prince that dagger, so he’d have proof of how his father died. But I can just give it to him here. Of course, I don’t have it at the moment. I think the king may have it. I gave it to him to look at when the babies were being removed from the stasis chambers, and then I was distracted, and I didn’t think to ask for it back. I wasn’t sure if I could.

Rysha patted Trip’s arm as Pimples led the princess into the gardens. He looked like he meant to guide her through the crowd to the servants walking around with trays of food, but he noticed Rysha and paused.

“Zia, this is Lady Ravenwood. She’s a scholar. She knows all about dragons and relics and things.”

“Oh?” Zilandria—Zia?—looked Rysha up and down.

She was several inches shorter than Rysha and seemed dubious about Pimples’ introduction, perhaps because of the uniform and sword. Maybe Rysha should take her spectacles back from Trip, so she would look more scholarly.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” Rysha curtseyed, though she wasn’t sure that was the proper etiquette when in an army uniform.

“Do you enjoy academic studies?” Zia asked.

“I do. Mathematics, history, and archaeology. My mother is a professor, and my sister is following in her footsteps. I… wanted to ride dragons and poke things with swords.”

“In Cofahre, only men poke things with swords. I don’t think anybody is riding dragons. Are you?”

“Yes. Her name is Shulina Arya.”

“Really? I would love to meet her. And talk mathematics with you.”

Rysha bowed her head. “I would be honored, Your Highness.”

“You can call me Zia. I’m going to visit the university while I’m here. I’m trying to talk my brother into letting me finish out my studies here. For a more eclectic education. The professors are rumored to be quite good.”

She smiled shyly at Pimples, and Rysha suspected her interest in Iskandian studies had little to do with the university’s professors.

“I’m sure you would enjoy it,” Rysha said.

Pimples captured Zia’s hand and led her into the gardens.

“Was that young woman making moon-eyes at Pimples?” Trip sounded dumbfounded.

“Why not? He’s a good-looking young man. And he’s smart, isn’t he? Perhaps not about wine, but didn’t one of your comrades say he’s good at math and has architectural aspirations?”

“Good-looking? Is he? Huh.”

“He’s quite comely. I don’t know why he has that name. His skin is lovely.”

“I heard a rumor that Tolemek had something to do with that. A cream he sells. Supposedly, Pimples was a test subject and gets free formulas for life.”

Trip looked toward the entrance again as several shaven-headed men in flowing blue garments that didn’t quite hide their sheathed scimitars and daggers strode in and fanned out. They scowled at Trip and Rysha, waving their hands, to try and back them away.

Rysha, suspecting this was the equivalent of King Angulus’s cadre of bodyguards, was inclined to do as requested, but Trip narrowed his eyes, lifted his chin, and exuded his scylori. It had its usual effect on Rysha, making her want to slip in close and start rubbing things of his. The bodyguards blinked and backed away. One almost stumbled into the person walking through the doorway, a man Rysha also recognized from photographs—he was mentioned far more frequently in Iskandian newspapers.

“Prince Varlok.” Trip stepped forward and bowed to him. “I am sorry for the loss of Dreyak.”

Varlok wore flowing silks not dissimilar to those of his sister, so the bow was likely more correct than a salute. As Rysha recalled, some of Varlok’s younger brothers had served in their military, but he hadn’t, being more of an academic.

“Captain Yert,” Varlok said without looking at his name tag—he seemed to know exactly who he was dealing with. He didn’t so much as glance at Rysha, but women rarely had prominent roles in Cofah society, so she wasn’t surprised. “I spoke to your king when I arrived yesterday, and he showed me a certain dagger.”

“Did you touch it and see what happened to your father, Your Majesty?”

“I did.”

Varlok's tone was neutral, his face difficult to read. If he had mourned his father’s death, he showed no sign of it here, not in public. Perhaps not in private, either. Nothing Rysha had read or heard about Emperor Salatak suggested he had been a lovable man.

At least it looked like Trip wouldn’t have to do anything to see his promise through. Rysha suspected he was relieved. She knew he hadn’t been excited about the idea of piloting into the heart of Cofah territory, not when their snipers and watch tower artillerymen so enjoyed shooting at Iskandian fliers.

“Lieutenant Ravenwood?” Kaika asked from behind. “Do you have a minute?”

Since Varlok didn’t look like he would miss her, Rysha stepped away without hesitation. She wondered if Trip would get a thank you from him. Not that Trip had been the bearer of good news, but at least he’d borne it.

There weren’t any quiet places in the gardens, as more and more guests kept coming in, but Kaika drew her to a patch of lavender against a wall, the flowers getting ready to bloom. Summer had finally come to Iskandia, and there weren’t any clouds on the horizon promising rain. Angulus and Kaika had lucked out.

Though Kaika appeared more nervous than lucky. She kept patting down her uniform, or maybe wiping her damp palms on it, and reached for her hair, as if to comb it, but since they were outdoors, she wore her uniform cap. Maybe that was a good thing, or she would be raking her fingers through it. She’d cut it all short for the wedding, to match the side still growing back after being bathed in dragon fire, and even though it would bewilder Kaika to hear it, Rysha suspected shorter locks would soon come into fashion because of her.

“You’re not thinking of backing out, are you?” Rysha asked. “Dozens of foreign dignitaries traveled far to use this wedding as an excuse to spy on Trip’s weapons platform.”

Kaika snorted. “That’s the truth. No, I just wanted to thank you for coming to stand by my side.” She grinned. “In uniform. I’ve been getting an earful from a clothing designer who creates custom dresses for many of the noblewomen when they get married, and she’s appalled and flummoxed that her services weren’t needed for this.”

“Madame Vovary, and yes, I can imagine. She’s in high demand. Even noble ladies have to book her a year out.”

“I assume the king gets to jump the line. She keeps telling me it’s not too late, that we could at least spruce up the dress uniform.” Kaika looked down at the blue and gray. “She suggested a frill around the hem. She also pulled out a poofy light blue ball. I have no idea where she thought that would go.”

“Maybe you could ask Leftie,” Rysha said. “He likes balls.”

“Something that should alarm any women he’s seeing.”

“Yes. And you’re welcome. For standing by your side. I’m honored you asked. The other lieutenants in the barracks are terribly jealous. This and the ball afterward are being considered the social events of the year, I understand. There are private parties going on among those who weren’t invited.”

Kaika nodded. “I heard there’s going to be a lavish shindig tonight at the Sensual Sage.”

Rysha wrinkled her nose, not wanting to think about what a lavish shindig at a brothel would be like. She imagined drunken orgies and a proliferation of adult toys. “Should the king be concerned that you stay apprised of the goings on there?”

“It’s hardly my fault that I’m on their mailing list. I suspect that once I officially move into the castle, they’ll stop sending me their brochure.”

Rysha’s mind boggled even more at the idea of a brothel mailing out seasonal brochures.

“Though I have been wondering if I should keep my little house in the army fort,” Kaika said.

“In case things don’t work out with the king?” Rysha hoped Kaika didn’t have that in mind. Even though she didn’t know Angulus well, she knew this was his third marriage, and she hoped it would be the final one, that this would bring him—them—happiness for the rest of their lives.

“In case a dragon or sorceress burns down the castle. Again. I’d hate to lose my souvenir beer steins, the way Zirkander did when someone blew up his house.”

“Ah, I see. The king might actually prefer it if the souvenir beer steins were stored somewhere else.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t mind more junk around the castle. He has dusty musical instruments all over the place that he collects. It seems that if they’re more than a hundred years old, they’re valuable. Do you know he can play the lute and sing? It’s moderately entertaining. He’s serenaded me a couple of times.”

“Perhaps he and Colonel Grady could get together to perform for… someone.” Rysha didn’t know who. She couldn’t imagine a king showing up with a lute at a tavern. Maybe when he’d been just a prince, such things wouldn’t have been seen as odd.

“Careful. Don’t volunteer to be his audience. He sings a lot about nature and symbolism—or so he claims. All I remember is flowers weeping with the morning dew glistening on their petals. But he sits patiently while I talk nostalgically about the old 37-A dragon bombs, so I guess I can listen to flower songs.”

“Clearly, you two are a perfect match.”

“You’re the first person who’s said that, however sarcastically.” Kaika thumped her on the shoulder. “That’s why you’re standing beside me.”

“Oh, is being supportive required?” Blazer asked, strolling up beside Kaika, her cigar leaking smoke into the air.

“Do you mind?” Kaika plucked the cigar out of her mouth. “This is a non-smoking wedding.”

“What? The invitations didn’t mention that. And you said we didn’t have to get girlie and mannered and such for this, that we’re making a statement.”

“Yes, but it’s a non-smoking statement.” Kaika held the cigar away when Blazer reached for it.

“Are you even allowed to be out here?” Blazer asked. “I thought the bride was supposed to hide among her ladies attending and make a dramatic appearance right before the music starts.”

“I shooed away the people who showed up wanting to attend me. I can put on a uniform by myself after almost twenty years in the army. I even bathed myself and trimmed my own fingernails. It’s appalling what noble people pay others to do for them.”

“You’re going to put people out of business if you don’t use their services, ma’am,” Rysha observed.

“I hardly think that’s true. Besides, Angulus said I was saving the taxpayers a lot of money by singlehandedly being responsible for this being the least expensive of his three weddings, and likely the least expensive of any wedding. They should love me. I also said no to the florists, the jugglers, and the person who makes decorative pamphlets for all the guests. A thousand nucros? For a stack of calligraphy cards? Who would pay that?”

“Well,” Rysha said, “at least you said yes to him.”

“You may be the first queen in history to save the country money,” Blazer said.

“Maybe so. I helped him do his own bathing and nail trimming this morning too.” Kaika grinned a tad wickedly. “I admit, it was half bribe. I’m trying to get him to say his part of the oath without using my loathed first name.”

“Your parents are here, aren’t they?” Blazer asked. “Won’t they be confused if he just confesses his love to a Kaika?”

“I make them call me Kaika too.”

“Don’t they find that weird, ma’am?” Rysha asked.

“They shouldn’t have given me such a dreadful first name if they wanted—”

The musician changed his tune, playing the refrain of the Royal Ceremony, a cue for the guests to find seats and for everyone involved in the wedding to take their places.

Kaika clapped Blazer and Rysha on the back, then strode out of the gardens so she could come back in on Angulus’s arm.

With nerves tickling her stomach, Rysha headed to the front of the gardens, to the same area where the king had stood to deliver their medals. Now, his assistants carried velvet trays with promise necklaces on them, and a royal officiator waited to perform the ceremony, with a priest from the Order of Nendear looking on. It was no longer the most dominant religion in the country, with devotion divided between the seven gods, along with a smattering of agnosticism mixed in, but the Order had backed the throne for centuries and continued to do so, so the priest would bless the union. Bhrava Saruth, when he’d heard about the preparations, had offered to take the priest’s place and give a far more meaningful blessing. Angulus had sadly informed him that some nods toward tradition had to be given.

As Rysha took her spot with Blazer behind the officiator, she caught herself patting and smoothing her uniform, the same way Kaika had been doing. She snorted at herself. She didn’t have to do anything except step forward on cue, give Angulus a look over, and say, “Yes,” to the question of whether he looked healthy and fit and like a good provider for his wife-to-be. But it seemed terribly presumptuous for a lieutenant to make such a judgment over a king.

She wondered if General Zirkander, who had a similar responsibility when it came to Kaika, would follow the script or make some irreverent joke. Even now, the corners of his mouth kept twitching, as if he was having all manner of amusing thoughts about the proceedings.

Rysha smoothed her uniform again, then caught herself. She was sure she looked fine. Besides, who would be looking at her?

You look beautiful, Trip spoke into her mind. He’d finished speaking with Prince Varlok and now stood with Leftie, Duck, and a few other Wolf Squadron pilots. Almost as beautiful as last night.

I was naked last night.

Exactly.

I’m afraid it would be scandalous if I got naked here.

I thought this wedding was already scandalous. Three out of four newspapers said so in their headlines.

It would be four out of four if nudity broke out in the castle gardens.

It’s possible our people are terribly repressed.

That sounds like something Major Kaika would say, Rysha observed as the music swelled, promising the bride and groom would soon appear. You aren’t getting brochures from the Sensual Sage, are you?

No, but Leftie recommended that place. He went and had a good time.

I’m sure he did. Did the ladies there like his balls?

I believe they’re paid to like men’s balls.

No wonder he enjoyed himself. Rysha looked around the crowd, most of the people now sitting, and marveled again at how crisply she saw everything. She spotted Varlok in the front, surrounded by an entourage of people in the currently fashionable flowing silk attire. The princess sat at the end of the retinue with Captain Pimples next to her, his Iskandian uniform in stark contrast with their dress. He and the princess stole shy smiles at each other.

Maybe this won’t be the only wedding this summer, Trip observed, following Rysha’s gaze.

Oh? Rysha pretended to misunderstand him. Should I brace my parents for something more dramatic than you appearing at the dinner table with me?

I’d be amenable to making long-term plans with you, though I think I should get some more money saved up first, so we can buy or build a place of our own.

Married officers are offered free fort housing, you know. Maybe we could get Kaika’s old place. I hear it comes with beer steins. Though I’m sure you’re right. There’s no hurry. Rysha smiled across the gardens at him, not wanting to pressure him. She wasn’t sure marriage was something she was ready for, anyway, since that seemed to lead to children, and she couldn’t imagine that right now. She’d only just been accepted into the elite troops. She looked forward to missions and countless adventures before settling down. Would Trip understand and wait? Surely, he had adventures of his own in mind.

No hurry, he agreed, gently returning her smile. Though I don’t think children are a requirement of marriage. I assume Major Kaika doesn’t have any planned.

Not that I’ve heard about, but you never know. Angulus may want an heir, and tradition dictates that the queen’s womb is the ideal place for one to originate.

I suspect nothing about this marriage will be traditional.

True.

The music rose to a crescendo, and the bride and groom appeared at the entrance to the gardens. They walked arm-in-arm slowly, stately, and to the pace of the now more subdued music. It morphed from The Royal Ceremony to Heralding of the Wedding, each of the songs at least five centuries old. It was too bad Kaika hadn’t bucked tradition there, too, and invited Colonel Grady to play something. Maybe Angulus could have joined in, though songs about weeping flowers might not be on point for a wedding.

I’m not sure if I should warn you or not, Trip said, but Bhrava Saruth and Shulina Arya are on the roof of the west wing. They just arrived.

Uh, maybe you should warn Angulus.

He hasn’t invited me to speak to him telepathically.

I don’t think I ever invited you to, either, Rysha pointed out.

You’re fortunate that I’m perceptive and could tell you’d been missing out on this your whole life and would love it.

Uh huh. And you don’t get that feeling from Angulus?

Oddly, no.

Kaika and Angulus reached the dais, stepping up to join the priest, officiator, and kin watchers. They clasped hands and faced each other. Angulus had worn his typical hard-to-read expression during the walk up, but his eyes glinted as they met Kaika’s. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and they both broke into smiles.

Rysha had never seen the king smile and decided he should do it more often. But maybe Kaika was the only one who could twitch an eyebrow and elicit such an expression from him. If so, Rysha definitely thought they should stay together.

The officiator cleared his throat, and the murmurs of the crowd quieted as he spoke about the bride’s and groom’s duties to each other, present and future, and the long life they would spend together. Angulus and Kaika gazed at each other, not looking like either was paying much attention as they took turns making playful facial gestures. The officiator first called the male kin watchers forward to scrutinize Kaika.

“Do you, being faithful and loyal friends of King Angulus Masonwood, affirm that you have researched the vitality and emotional stability of Astuawilda Kaika and found her a suitable mate?”

Kaika propped a fist on her hip and looked like she would punch either man if they responded with anything but an emphatic yes. Of course, that surly gesture might also be in response to the use of her first name.

The nobleman’s lips thinned, and Rysha had the sense he’d been pressured into accepting that this match was good for the country, but he nodded and said, “Yes.”

The officiator’s gaze shifted to Zirkander. Angulus’s eyes narrowed.

“I can’t personally attest to her vitality,” Zirkander said, eyes twinkling, “but my research does indeed suggest that she is well endowed in that area.”

Rysha watched Angulus warily—maybe he would be the one to punch someone. But he actually appeared faintly smug. Or pleased?

He’s suspected that Kaika and Zirkander have explored each other’s vitality in the past, Jaxi said, surprising Rysha by speaking into her mind. Since that was something of a promise to the contrary, he’s happy to hear it.

Rysha spotted Sardelle in the crowd, wondering if she knew her sword was chatting up the wedding participants, but she was lifting her eyes skyward. It might have been in response to Zirkander’s typical irreverence, or she might have been looking toward the west wing and the dragons perched on the rooftop.

The officiator cleared his throat. “It’s a yes or no question, General.”

“Ah, then yes.” Zirkander bowed to Angulus and Kaika, then stepped back into his spot.

The officiator offered a similar question to Rysha and Blazer, asking them to attest to Angulus’s suitability. Rysha, her cheeks warm simply from being included and having everyone looking at her, simply stepped out, glanced at Angulus without seeing him, and said yes. She stepped quickly back into her spot.

Blazer strolled out and considered Angulus more thoughtfully. “I’m not terribly well equipped to comment on a man’s suitability, but he seems sturdy and stout enough to handle Kaika’s vitality.”

Off to the side, journalists were clucking their tongues with disapproval while hurrying to scribble down direct quotes.

The officiator sighed. “Again, it’s a yes or no question.”

“No room for creativity? Disappointing. Then I shall say yes.” Blazer bowed, as Zirkander had done, and stepped back.

Rysha shook her head, unable to imagine being irreverent at someone’s wedding, especially a royal wedding.

Fortunately, Angulus didn’t appear distressed. He was quick to meet Kaika’s eyes again and smile.

“Pilots,” the officiator muttered under his breath, followed by what sounded like a string of curses. But he recovered, raised his voice, and said, “The wisdom of the kin watchers prevails, as we trust it always will.” He looked to the priest.

“This union is blessed by the holiest and oldest of the gods, Nendear,” the man said.

Rysha wondered how much he got paid to say that handful of words. Or rather, how much would be donated to his Order.

“Then, King Angulus Masonwood and Major Astuawilda Kaika, I invite you to touch lips to make official this union of souls.”

They came together so quickly it was as if someone had been physically restraining them up until that moment. Rysha would have expected a chaste public kiss from Angulus, but wasn’t surprised when Kaika wrapped her arms around him and gave him a passionate lip plant. He returned the kiss with equal intensity, and Rysha doubted either of them was aware of, or cared about, the onlookers.

“It’s going to be more than their souls that are unioning tonight,” Zirkander said.

The old nobleman at his side frowned darkly at him, frowned at the length of the kiss, and also frowned over at the journalists, who were all scribbling furiously.

I usually yawn at newspapers, Jaxi said, but I do expect tomorrow’s edition to be interesting.

I just hope Kaika doesn’t regret this one day, Rysha replied. I know she won’t regret Angulus, but he does come with a whole locomotive full of freight cars.

Indeed, and you encouraged the wedding!

I know. Rysha hoped Kaika wouldn’t one day be cursing her.

If it makes you feel better, Sardelle also encouraged it. Two years ago. A year ago. Six months ago. Did you know that there have been many proposals?

So Kaika said. I’m going to find the fact that they’re still kissing promising for their future happiness.

Their future horniness, at least.

A shadow fell over the gardens, and a hundred people gasped. Rysha looked up, hoping Shulina Arya wasn’t the dragon about to cause a stir.

Bhrava Saruth landed in front of the dais, where Shulina Arya had landed to receive her medal at the ceremony. His wings stretched out, and he looked quite magnificent. Or terrifying. Depending on one’s point of view and how well one knew him.

Angulus and Kaika broke their kiss, if not their embrace, to look over at him.

I, the god Bhrava Saruth, have come to bless this union, and unlike with the human gods, my blessings are useful.

He’s not at all cocky, is he? Trip asked into Rysha’s mind.

He’s been waiting for just the right moment to make a dramatic appearance, Jaxi said.

Rysha imagined all the soulblades and sorcerers present having had long telepathic conversations with each other while the ceremony was going on.

A golden glow emanated from Bhrava Saruth, and more gasps came from the crowd. It spread and gathered around Angulus and Kaika. Zirkander pointedly took a step back. The nobleman, the priest, and the officiator could only stand and gape.

“Should we be alarmed?” Angulus asked, looking at Zirkander and then Rysha.

“I don’t think so, Sire,” Zirkander said. “But if you don’t want children, you may need to be extra careful in the future. Bhrava Saruth’s blessings do seem to improve fertility.”

Kaika made a face that was hard to read. Angulus actually looked a touch heartened. He looked over to Rysha, as if for a second opinion.

“I only know about one dragon, Sire. My understanding is that she’s still on the rooftop.”

I would not presume to interrupt a human mating ceremony, Storyteller. I merely came to watch. It’s very romantic. Like in the stories. Someday, perhaps I will have a romantic mate, rather than a horny dragon overly obsessed with breeding cycles.

Rysha rubbed her face, not certain whether that comment applied to Bhrava Saruth or Trip’s new elder dragon contact. She did hope the telepathic comment had only gone to her.

The gold light faded, and Bhrava Saruth shifted positions, lowering himself to all fours and folding his wings in. Climb aboard my back, newly mated humans, and I will take you for a ride to a private place where you can consummate your relationship.

Angulus eyed Bhrava Saruth dubiously, his mouth open and a likely rejection on his lips. But Kaika grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the dragon. Rysha didn’t know if she was excited by the offer of privately consummating their relationship or if she simply wanted to escape all the watching eyes.

Though Angulus still appeared dubious, he allowed himself to be tugged off the dais and climbed onto Bhrava Saruth’s back.

“There’s a nice arch in Crazy Canyon that looks out over the sea,” Zirkander called to them. “I recommend taking a blanket and a picnic basket though.”

Sardelle’s eyes narrowed, and Rysha imagined her silently admonishing him. Whatever she said, he winked at her.

Such preferential treatment is available to all those who give up their inferior gods and come to worship the god Bhrava Saruth. With that announcement—judging by the startled exclamations, it had gone out to all gathered in the gardens—he sprang into the air, flapping his wings and carrying Angulus and Kaika out of sight.

“Inferior gods?” the priest asked in the most indignant tone of voice.

“I knew I should have charged more than usual for presiding over this wedding,” the officiator mumbled.

Storyteller, are you done with your duties? Shulina Arya asked.

Rysha glanced at Blazer and the others around her. They all looked uncertain except for Zirkander, who was strolling toward Sardelle. He seemed to assume the king and Kaika wouldn’t be back and that the wedding had adjourned.

I think so, Rysha replied.

I wish to instruct your mate.

Rysha met Trip’s eyes across the gathering. I’m sure he would be amenable to learning new things. Is this something to do with magic?

Indeed it is.

After Bhrava Saruth disappeared with his riders, the murmurs of the crowd died down. Until Shulina Arya appeared overhead, gliding into the garden to land in the same spot Bhrava Saruth had vacated.

Trip walked toward her, his expression curious. She must have shared her words with him.

Rysha joined him at Shulina Arya’s side as her head swung on her long neck, lowering to look into Trip’s eyes.

It is not an easy thing to learn to shape-shift, she spoke into their minds. I did not learn until I was well out of my nest. But if someone helps you to do it a few times, you learn what it feels like, how to call upon the magic that allows you to defy the laws of nature.

Trip stood listening, his eyes riveted to hers.

You have helped my rider to see better. This is excellent. I know little of how human eyes work, so it would have been difficult for me. I am appreciative. I will show you how to change shapes.

Trip nodded, though he looked stunned. And speechless.

Shulina Arya shifted in front of their eyes, turning into her human form with a flowing white dress covered with sparkling gold glitter and her blonde hair in a high ponytail. She spun a pirouette. Trip’s brow furrowed slightly. She reached out and touched his arm, some telepathic communication going on between them.

Trip studied the grass, his face intense with concentration. He seemed oblivious to how many people had been watching this since Shulina Arya landed. Numerous jaws had dropped when she shape-shifted. In a world where magic hadn’t existed, or had barely existed, for centuries, Rysha could understand the reaction. At least nobody had come running in with firearms.

Trip’s outline wavered before Rysha’s eyes, and she stared. Was he doing that or was Shulina Arya? He blurred and solidified a few times, then between one eye blink and the next turned into a miniature form of Bhrava Saruth. A human-sized gold dragon.

Shulina Arya stepped back and giggled. That is not the form I would have chosen, but it is suitable enough for a first attempt. And the dragon form is most amenable to flying, mate of my rider.

Flying? Trip whispered telepathically, his voice full of awe. He lifted one golden wing and then the other in self-inspection.

Yes, follow me. I will show you. Shulina Arya shifted back to her natural form, then sprang into the air, wings flapping.

Trip imitated her, though his wing flapping was more wobbly and uncertain. Still, he managed to gain altitude. Rysha watched as he curled his legs in and flew over the garden wall, disappearing from sight.

She looked over at the journalists. They were gaping—more than one had dropped his pencil completely—but a couple recovered and bent to their notepads, writing so fast their hands would cramp up.

This is fantastic, Trip told her a few minutes later, from wherever he’d flown.

I believe it. Are you going to let me ride you? Rysha didn’t know if he was large enough for that, but maybe his magic could compensate.

A naughty image flashed into her mind, and he said, You can ride me anytime.

Now you’ve got me imagining you naked again.

Excellent.