Page 61 of Foundling

“Everything and nothing,” Leita sighed. Charis opened her mouth to ask, but Leita waved her questions away. “I need to take a long sleep. Keep the counsel at bay, then I’ll hear all the reports.”

Charis nodded, seemingly comfortable again now that clear commands were being issued. “Of course. You’ve had a long journey. We’re just relieved to have you returned. Please, rest well.”

The chancellor left, taking all of Leita’s energy with her.

Leita watched lethargically as Ondra brought in the copper tub while Carenza heated stones in the fire. Water was piped in, then the hot stones placed in the bath to heat it nearly to boiling.

For once, she let Carenza and Ondra see to her without a fuss, scrubbing her body, combing her hair, and massaging her limbs. Leita hovered in a doze through it all, amenable and pliant as they worked.

Charis and the council would have their time. Now, though, it was Leita’s time to rest, and she relished climbing into her ridiculous bed. Carenza and Ondra tucked a blanket round her before leaving on quiet feet, shutting the door behind them.

The cool quiet of the room lulled her, and even heartsick as she still was, Leita shut her eyes and drifted away, cursing Ravenna’s name one last time.

When her council reconvened two days later, Leita had the itchy feeling that her time away was but a fleeting dream. All the same faces, all the same problems. Nothing had really been resolved on her tour—if anything, she’d only added to her issues. Even if she wouldn’t be telling the council that.

Doing her best to sit still in stately circumspection, she listened as Charis went into detail over the main issues she’d summarized earlier. First, the dragons.

“The sightings have been concentrated in the eastern towns and estates; they seem to be the same formation each time. A few have traveled toward Fallorian following the Lune River. Yet, we’ve received no word from Highhome,” said Charis.

“I fear they may be testing our new young Queen,” Lady Idrisil suggested.

“Hmph. They’re ones to talk,” grumbled Lady Eilean. “Their new king is barely two-hundred. Has his father’s blood even dried?”

“Araxos Anax did send official envoys when he first took the dais, as the dragons say,” Charis explained. “However, no channels were reopened with Highhome at the time.”

“It was hardly worth talking to the old king. Mad as a badger and even more vicious.” Lady Eilean stressed her point with an emphatic nod.

“They made quite the pair, the old dragon king and the old Fae Queen,” Lady Idrisil noted darkly.

The council rumbled and groaned in agreement.

Leita shifted in her seat, all this talk of dragons inevitably leading her thoughts to her own lizard. She couldn’t help wondering how he was, what he was doing. He’d be bored, no doubt. She should have gotten him a book or a game, at least. She supposed he could scratch out a board on the ground with a claw and use rocks as game pieces or dice, but she doubted Slinky would make a very good opponent.

The comical idea of her dragon princeps playing dice with his pine marten nearly had Leita smiling in the middle of the meeting.

“My Queen?”

Leita looked up, realizing from Charis’s expectant expression that this wasn’t the first time she’d asked something.

Right. Deal with the other dragons.

“Send an official message to Highhome telling them to cease all flights over the faelands unless they can provide a compelling reason for it.” She was curious whether they’d admit to losing an accused fugitive, not that she’d accept it either way. “Otherwise, we’ll consider it an attack on our border and retaliate.”

Marcades’s mien somehow drew even more serious. “I will ensure the guards train double in archery and javelins.”

“There are old war machines in the lower levels,” Tamerlan supplied, rifling through the palace inventory he always brought with him to meetings. “Several ballistae and catapults, as well as two fireproof trebuchets.”

Well, well. Seems this wasn’t the first time Fallorian had worried about dragons overhead.

“Aren’t they in the miasmatic area?” Marcades asked.

Tamerlan’s lips thinned. “Yes, but perhaps with a bit of cleaning…”

The council fell silent. Another problem without a solution. No one would look at Leita, and she was grateful when Charis began talking again.

“We’ll bring the spellcasters back in. Perhaps their powers will yield better results on single items.”

Leita nodded with the rest of them, holding little hope, but it was something to do, at least.