“Tell me, girl, have you enjoyed your stay in Cahrdyarein?” the regent asked, his tone reflecting his current attitude.
Beside him, Pendric shifted. The captain of the guard had stood so still beside the regent that Jahrra had almost forgotten him.
Jahrra gritted her teeth at Morivan’s patronizing tone. Before answering, she flicked a quick glance in her guardian’s direction. Jaax’s gaze was hard; unreadable. But, she knew what she must do. Diplomacy, Jahrra. Diplomacy ... she reminded herself.
“Yes, your grace,” she answered. “It is a beautiful city, and its citizens have been kind and welcoming. Your hospitality is most appreciated.”
“If that were truly the case, you would have paid my wife and I the same courtesy and introduced yourself the moment you arrived instead of nearly an hour later.”
The room, which had been quietly abuzz with patrons gossiping amongst themselves, plunged into silence. Jahrra grew absolutely still, heat rising in her cheeks. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Jaax testing his claws against the stone floor of the cave.
Keiron took a step in front of her, his own deportment exuding agitation. “Father, you must forgive Jahrra. Her tardiness is my fault. I was enjoying the pleasure of her company on the dance floor and was too distracted by her loveliness to bring her forward.”
Jahrra felt her face warm even further, her eyes carefully avoiding Jaax as she stared straight ahead, gauging Morivan’s reaction to his son’s excuse.
The regent sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Just know that one day these amusements of yours will have to come to an end, my son,” he said dryly. “A human makes a useful companion, if only to pass the time until better prospects come along.”
Jahrra sucked in a breath of mortified outrage. Beside her, Keiron stiffened, and his eyes darkened, the color on his cheeks revealing his own anger. His father had just insulted them both, but there was nothing either she or her companion could say without starting an argument in front of the entire city. Best to stay silent, as much as it pained her.
“You will remember, Morivan,” Jaax snarled softly, almost filling his corner of the room as he sat up from his reclining position, “that human blood flows in your veins, as little of it as may be, and that Jahrraneh Drisihn deserves not only your respect, but your allegiance as well. That is, if you truly wish to see the downfall of the Tyrant. You will refrain from paying her insult in front of your subjects in the future, or you will regret your actions.”
Jahrra’s eyes widened in alarm. What was Jaax doing? They had so little time left here in Cahrdyarein, why would he risk angering Morivan now? She glanced up at her guardian, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes, like virescent fire, were boring into the regent with such intensity she imagined smoke rising from the back of Morivan’s head.
Morivan, who at first appeared ready to respond to Jaax’s insult, lost a bit of his bluster the moment he met the dragon’s eyes.
“My apologies, Raejaaxorix,” he said with a tight smile. “I hope I’ve not insulted Ethoes’ Chosen.”
He didn’t even bother to look at her, but Jahrra figured that was the best apology she was going to get from him. She would take it. Yes, he’d insulted her, but he was a buffoon who would never consider anyone to be at his level. Best to just ignore him.
Keiron gave his father a stiff bow and held his hand out to Jahrra. She took it, but before he could lead her away, Jaax said, “Jahrra.”
She paused and looked at Keiron. He was watching her guardian over her shoulder, his jaw tight.
“How about you go get us some more punch,” Jahrra suggested, “while I see what Jaax wants.”
Keiron nodded and let her hand go. Jahrra took a deep breath and turned to face her guardian. Morivan still watched her the way someone might study a particularly grotesque bug crawling up their pant leg. She turned her back on him and took the few steps to reach Jaax.
The dragon lowered his head.
“We need to talk,” he growled.
Jahrra flashed a quick look in Ellyesce’s direction, but his gaze remained steady. She turned back to Jaax, her brow furrowed.
“About what?”
Had he decided to let her in on his plans, after all?
Jaax lowered his voice and murmured, “Ellyesce told me what happened this morning.”
The blood drained from Jahrra’s face. She shot the elf an acerbic glare, and he shook his head slightly.
“He needed to know,” Ellyesce murmured.
“I would have told you everything tonight, Jahrra,” Jaax pressed, in the quietest voice he could muster. “I didn’t want to ruin the ball for you.”
“You haven’t,” she hissed, “but my trust in you has certainly taken a blow.”
Jaax winced and had the decency to look somewhat abashed. He blew out a weary breath, then returned his full attention to her. Jahrra was expecting him to lecture her on the merits of his decisions, or to apologize for breaking his word. Instead, what he said surprised her.
“What must I do to regain that trust?”
Jahrra’s first impulse was to answer his question snidely, but his tone was so sincere, his eyes so full of concern and even sadness, that the smoldering anger she’d kindled earlier snuffed out like a candle set out in a storm. And that’s when Jahrra realized she had never really lost faith in her guardian, and something, some inkling deep within her conscience, told her nothing ever could shake that loyalty free of its hold on her heart.
Jahrra tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and drew a breath in slowly through her nose. Finally, she faced Jaax again and said in a calm voice, “An apology would go a long way.”
Her guardian blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting her response.
“Then,” he said, his voice unusually gruff, “I extend my most heartfelt apology to you, Jahrraneh Drisihn.”
Jahrra gave him a tired smile, the weightless feeling of forgiveness and atonement making her almost giddy. Jaax offered his own relieved smile, but then his eyes flicked to something over her shoulder, and his joy vanished. The Tanaan dragon straightened and took on his haughty, overbearing demeanor once again.
“We will talk more tonight,” he said in a more authoritative tone. “But right now, I believe you are wanted elsewhere.”
Jahrra glanced over her shoulder to find Keiron standing just within earshot, waiting for her. He gave her a tentative quirk of his mouth, flicked his eyes up to meet Jaax’s for a fleeting moment, then glanced back to her. He held out his hand.
“Would you like to rejoin the party, Jahrra?”
Relieved that the rift between herself and her guardian had been patched up, she beamed and hurried over to join the regent’s son.
“I would love to,” she breathed, and he pulled her, laughing, back into the fray.
As Keiron and Jahrra got swept up into the crowd of dancers, Jaax watched them like a hawk, ready to swoop down upon the Resai elf should he reveal any devious intentions.
“Relax, Jaax,” Ellyesce said, in the dead language he and his reptilian friend often used. “He is only a young man enjoying the company of a girl he fancies.”
Jaax gritted his teeth. Oh, if only it were that simple.
“Have you had any more visions since the one this morning?” the dragon asked his friend by way of distraction.