Mikoto and the Reaver Village (Amaranthine Saga #4) - Forthright . Page 0,87
so his words were all muffled. “I’m a teacher here. I thought it was one of those … those teaching moments.”
“You’ve always been patient with folks. A good listener.”
Tenma raised his head. “She’s eleven.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“She’s even younger than Isla was, and Isla was practically a baby!”
Ginkgo snorted. “Be glad Isla didn’t hear you say that.”
Tenma laughed a little, relaxed a little.
“Out with it, Tenma.”
“She proposed.”
Ginkgo was stumped. “Lilya has a crush on you?”
Tenma slowly shook his head. “This wasn’t that. Not a blushing girl making her first confession. This was a calm, calculated bid. She’s going to have Glint work up a contract.”
“And you came to me … why?”
“Talk some sense into her!”
“Oh, I’ll talk to her,” promised Ginkgo. His mind was racing, and he kept coming around to the same conclusion. “So … you’re turning her down?”
“Of course!”
“What’s your reason?”
“She’s eleven.”
“Age difference. That’s all you’ve got?”
Tenma gaped at him, glasses askew.
“For an uncertain entity like you, it’s not a bad deal, landing a beacon bride. Your future home would be in a secure location. Most of the household is conversant in Japanese. And the amenities are top notch—beachfront property, onsen baths, and a live-in nanny. That’d be me.”
“The age gap. It’s nearly fifteen years.”
“That works in your favor. A young wife will boost your progeny projections.”
Tenma shook his head. “Why are you even considering this?”
“Because I think Dad would approve. Put bluntly, you’d be a strategic acquisition for Stately House. And Glint’ll probably be giddy, matching the Amaranthine Messiah with a girl whose birth established a dynasty.”
Tenma rested his head on Ginkgo’s shoulder. “You really think they’d allow it?”
“You really expected bloodshed?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going to kill you for putting your signature on a contract. And I’m not going to criticize Lilya’s choice until I hear her reasoning. Realistically, you’d stick to your itinerary and come back when she’s sixteen or seventeen. Do the whole courtship thing, then.”
“W-we’d be family?”
“You and me? Sure. Along with a few dozen crossers, a partial herd of horses, a sedge of cranes, a nest of mice, one honeybee, two grumpy bear brothers, our French butler, and several members of the Amaranthine Council. Yay, verily, our Kith shelter runneth over, and we’re always expanding.” Ginkgo gently reminded, “Once he’s back safe, Inti will also be calling Stately House home.”
After a long silence, Tenma admitted, “Sounds too good to be true.”
“What was that future wish you shared with Lilya? What do you truly, actually, honestly want?”
He whispered, “This. All of it.”
“Even the eleven-year-old girl who proposes to give it to you?”
Tenma’s words were like a vow. “If she is resolved, I will devote myself to her happiness.”
Borrowing from the wisdom of cranes, Ginkgo asked, “Can such generosity lead to anything but joy?”
FORTY-TWO
Smart Cat
Sinder was accustomed to getting his way. Every dragon was. But it was pointless trying to sway Timur and Torloo. Only when Sinder lost his temper did they bend, but his triumph left him feeling like a petulant child. They were obviously humoring him, because Torloo had lowered the stakes so far, Sinder and the rookies weren’t doing anything more menacing than playing tag in the forest.
Well, to be fair, it was tag with traps.
Trapping an intelligent person wasn’t the same as outwitting a dumb beast, especially one on their guard. To keep things interesting, he’d worked in several traps of his own. If the four winds favored him, Michaelson would fall for one.
It made an amusing daydream, but Sinder wasn’t holding his breath.
Timur of the illustrious Order of Spomenka was undoubtedly wise to a dragon’s ways. They preserved knowledge and techniques that were supposed to be lost to time. Sinder knew for a fact that dragons from the heights had been tasked with the monumental chore of snuffing out any songs or fables that mentioned the tricks of the dragon slayer’s trade. In the tales that remained, knights were praised for their bravery upon setting off and showered with glories upon their return. How they’d succeeded wasn’t a matter of record.
Humans should have been no match for dragons, who were larger, fiercer, and stronger than any other predator. Yet every dragon was driven by three instincts—to fill a harem, to reach the sky, and to move with the seasons.
All dragonkind embraced a migratory existence, and it was the predictability of those courses that had led to their near demise. Learn the patterns. Lay the traps.
Of course, urges could be curtailed. Or more often, channeled.
Ancient dragon dwellings were sprawling affairs, invariably cross-shaped. Lords