34. Wild Rumors
The Lost ver Kleelan reveals a world-changing secret...
The Queen’s Aerie is a MMF fantasy romance (romantic fantasy?) in 57 parts that I serialized throughout 2023/2024! If you are just now joining the story, you can catch up by starting here. Full story ToC here.
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Previously: Ro met a mysterious and dangerous guest...
Rodgardae was aggravated. He respected Mani’s position as Matrica of Endestern, despite the fact that Fort Endestern itself was currently many thousands of miles to the west. However, the urgent summons had pulled him out of a meeting with his sister, where once again he accused her of purposefully holding him back and she accused him of insubordination. So, the same script as the past three days, he thought sourly.
He grabbed a ready horse from the stable and made good time over to the military encampment where Mani was working. By the time he had handed it off to a stable hand there, he was already fuming in frustration and was ready to fight about it.
The feeling fled from him when he walked past the guards outside Mani’s office door, who looked spooked. He paused, unfurling his senses, and immediately tensed up.
Feral dragon.
He dashed into the office and squared off with a man who was a handspan taller than he was rising from his chair. He was layered with the essence of wild dragons, but his hair was braided up on his head like a Wattish noble of old, the dozens of braids twisting around each other into a halo of whitened hair. His bright blue, silvery irises sparked with power. Rodgardae moved in front of Mani to protect him, but he knew in his gut that a hand-to-claw battle with this stranger would not end well for him.
“Ro. Ro!” Mani tugged at his arm, pulling him back. “Stop it. Lord ver Kleelan isn’t here to attack us.”
“Lord who?” Rodgardae allowed himself to step backwards, but slowly, refusing any suggestion of retreat.
“Technically, I’m not a member of the nobility anymore, but it’s as good a title as any.” The stranger talked with the same sharp tones of western Kaaltendt as Agadart. If he was a ver Kleelan, he was likely related. “Stand down, boy, I’m just here to talk.” He sat back down, obviously and purposefully refusing to follow etiquette.
Rodgardae moved to stand next to Mani, and they both looked down at the man before them. Even so, it still felt like they were looking up. “What do you want?” If ver Kleelan was going to be rude, Rodgardae would meet the challenge.
He heard Mani sighing behind him, mumbling “Dragons!” under his breath.
“I am hoping that I can get my niece back from the emperor’s clutches, if you must know.”
“Niece?” Rodgardae paused. “Lady Agadart ver Kleelan?”
“Does everyone know of her secret identity?”
Mani stepped up to Rodgardae’s side, subtly shoving him aside to make room. Rodgardae still wanted his mate behind him for protection, but he managed to hold his instincts back.
“As far as I know, we’re the only two. Ah, I’m sure the headmistress of the dragon maids knows as well. She would, right?” Mani glanced over at Rodgardae for confirmation.
Rodgardae nodded. “I’m certain of it.” He never took his eyes off the wild dragon wearing the trappings of civility.
“Yes, I know of the headmistress” ver Kleelan said cryptically. “In any case, you should know I’m not here to ask your permission, or for your help. This is simply a polite call to let you know of my actions, and why I’m taking them.”
“You mentioned that not rescuing Aga—Maid Aegirine would lead to the fall of Watt,” Mani prompted.
“What?” Rodgardae made to step forward again, but Mani’s arm across his chest held him back. “Are you threatening us?”
ver Kleelan rolled his eyes. “No.” He motioned at the other two chairs. “Sit down.”
Rodgardae flinched at the direct order but felt compelled to follow it. He nodded at Mani and they slowly sat down. Rodgardae took a deep breath and dredged up the last shreds of his diplomacy. “Would you care to explain?”
With a smile, which might have been condescending, ver Kleelan nodded. “I would, very much. You know who ‘Maid Aegirine’ is, and so do I, obviously, although I have never met her. I left most of Kaaltendt society behind years before she was born.”
“Did her father send you?” Mani asked. He was keeping a hand on Rodgardae’s forearm, either for moral support or to hold him down, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both.
“No. Her maternal ancestor did.”
Rodgardae and Mani looked at each other. “Maternal ancestor” was a dragon term, used to describe individuals so far back in the line that their correct relation would have been absurdly long and meaningless. Few used it outside of royal families.
Seeing their confusion, ver Kleelan nodded. “It is as convoluted as you might suspect. I am going to tell you this, and it must not leave the room. At least, for now. The truth will be revealed soon, but later rather than sooner is my preference.” He pulled in from his languid rest in the chair, sitting up straight and formal. “Do I have your word as gentlemen and dragons?”
“I am not a dragon.” Mani pointed at his chest.
“You’re the Matrica of your mate’s flight, and a son of Akanata. Close enough, isn’t it?” ver Kleelan smirked.
“You have a point,” Mani said graciously. “I give you my word, then.”
They both looked at Rodgardae expectantly. He grit his teeth for a moment, then nodded. “I give you my word.”
“Thank you.” ver Kleelan settled back down. “Agadart ver Kleelan is the only remaining direct descendant of Princess Beatra of Watt.”
Rodgardae was out of his chair and grabbing the jackass’s coat, pulling him to his feet, before he even thought about it. “How dare you!”
“Ro! Ro, stop it!” Mani was at his back, trying to pry him off, using their connection as well as his voice, which meant that Rodgardae was moments away from a full shift. He shoved hard at the blasphemous asshole, sending him stumbling into his chair, and let Mani herd him to the other side of the room.
ver Kleelan righted himself, then his chair, and sat down again as if nothing happened. Given his power, Rodgardae’s outburst was probably no more than a kit playing at wrestling for him, but Rodgardae did not care.
“You have some damn nerve to even mention her gracious name, never mind making such spurious accusations.” He pointed at ver Kleelan, his fingertip still more claw than nail.
“They are neither spurious nor accusations. They are fact. When Princess Beatra was ordered out of the burning castle by Queen Esthae, she was pregnant from her own mate, who died protecting her retreat. Those are facts.”
“They are wild rumors and myths and legends,” Rodgardae spat back. Hopes and dreams, he did not add, because every Wattish child, human or dragon, longed to believe that such tales were true. But no one dared speak of them in such a way, so casually, as if they knew.
ver Kleelan did not seem impressed. “What I’m here to tell you,” he said, stressing each word, “is that somehow Emperor Rhezv found out, and is determined to have her mate with him to gain control everlasting over the Isle of Watt.”
“You are dangerously insane, and I am having you thrown out.” He tried to pull out of Mani’s grasp.
“Why do you think he’s never taken a queen? There are three queens of Iskaryyva as we speak, each controlling her own domain within those lands. Any one of them could be elevated to empress with a snap of his fingers. That they either don’t want to or can’t is interesting, but immaterial. What Emperor Rhezv craves is control over all the world’s dragons. Right now he can’t get the queen of Kaaltendt, but he can get the queen of Watt.”
“Watt has no queen and has not had a queen for eight hundred years. That is not changing because of a raving madman!” Rodgardae waved a hand at him.
“Also I don’t think he would find warm welcome in Akanata,” Mani added.
“How long will Akanata hold out if both Watt and Kaaltendt fall?” he asked, almost pleasantly, his smile grim.
Years, probably, Rodgardae thought. Years of bloody fighting that would eventually end in the proud nation’s destruction. Mani had paled next to him, likely thinking the same thing.
“You have no proof of such wild claims,” Mani said after a moment.
“I do, but not here, and not easily retrieved. Nothing that I could bring to you in time.” ver Kleelan looked genuinely annoyed by that, which to Rodgardae’s mind meant it was the most honest thing he had said yet.
“In any case, I’m not here to convince you of the truth. That will happen no matter what you believe. I am simply here to let you know why I am going to go and try to rescue her. Once the emperor has his claws in her hide, the winds will shift and there will be no changing them.”
Mani had the look on his face that meant he was running the political calculations. “Why come to us? Why not Prince Tonae?”
“As if I could even get close to him?” ver Kleelan huffed. “Anyway, I was not looking for the most politically expedient contact in Watt. I followed her scent, like a proper dragon, and you both reek of her claim.” He shrugged like he had not just said something scandalous.
“I look forward to punching you in the face,” Rodgardae growled.
“Sure, sure, as soon as I am back with your queen. Do as you please. Won’t be as if my liege hasn’t done worse.” He slapped his thighs and stood up. “I’ve taken a room at the Hoolarée, you can reach me there if you decide you want to help me rescue your queen.” Then without a by-your-leave the asshole just walked out.
