Page 84 of Foundling

He emerged from the closet—and Leita halted in the middle of the room in astonishment.

What’d he been doing? Raiding her coffers, it seemed.

Out of her closet stepped a dragon prince dripping in finery. Strings of pearls and chains of gold hung round his neck, several with jewels dangling at their centers. A thick chain of gold had been wound round his waist in something of a belt, accenting his trim abdomen. He’d added ear caps to those already on his horns, and bracelets sparkled on his wrists.

A skirt of some sort had been sacrificed, shortened into a flowing kilt. At his hips he wore a finely tooled belt studded with jewels. His chest was bare but laden with jewelry; he’d even slid bangles onto his tail and added more earrings to his lobes.

As Queen, Leita of course had a closet full of finery. Most of it had been sourced by Charis and Carenza. The jewelry had been chosen out of the royal collection—Leita requested nothing that Amaranthe had preferred. Almost all of it had sat idle in the dark, save for on those rare occasions, such as her coronation, when Leita could be talked into wearing some of it.

When Carenza and Ondra outfitted Leita in items from the closet, she’d never looked half so…dazzling.

Most stunning of all was the smile that spread across his lips when he saw her. “There you are, agae. Good morning. I’m dressed, but—” he held up a coronet with three rubies dangling from the center “—is this too much?”

Leita nearly choked. “Erm…”

“Yes, you’re right.” He tossed the coronet onto an unused chair. “This should be enough.” Attalus strode across the chamber to her, taking both her hands in his and kissing the backs. “I hope this will do to meet your council.”

“Oh, um, no need to stand on ceremony. I was going to wear my usual clothes.”

His brows arched in a way that said without words he disagreed. “I’m not meeting your council in homespun, doe, and neither are you.”

“What?”

His grin turned roguish, and he held up a finger, requesting she wait as he went back into the closet for something else. He soon returned with one of her elegant silk gowns. It was a pearlescent white that shone purple and green depending on the light. Although one of her favorites, as it was comfortable and only a few layers, she’d never worn it.

“This will do nicely,” he declared. “I thought it best we match.” He waved at himself, indicating his own ensemble.

She realized, yes, the kilt and jewelry he’d chosen would pair well with her gown.

“It seems a bit much just to see the council,” she muttered.

“They want to meet the royal couple, yes? Let’s give it to them.”

Leita met his gaze in surprise, and he winked.

“I was born in a royal court, Leita. We Savrakae are ostentatious, yes, because we understand the importance of appearance.”

“Gaudy, more like,” she teased.

Attalus’s grin widened. “Indeed.” Spinning her round, he gathered her back to his front and kissed her shoulder. “There’s something to be said for beguiling your way into getting what you want.”

“So you’ve expertly shown me.”

Lady Eilean had said she and the rest of the council wanted to know what they were dealing with, but Leita suspected that Attalus was far beyond any of their wildest imaginings. Every pair of eyes widened at the sight the two of them made entering the bare council chamber.

He positively glittered in the midday sun, splashing fractals of light across the stone walls. Oiled and shining, his scales seemed to burn iridescent, flashing between ruby, poppy, and saffron.

Attalus escorted her to her spot at the head of the council, and Leita had to admit, she was proud to stand next to him. And glad he’d talked her into the gown. She would’ve looked positively dowdy compared to the bright, blinding vision Attalus made.

There hadn’t been a seat set out for him—perhaps more than just a few elders doubted her story of finding an azai—but this would almost seem intended the way Attalus played it. Gracefully taking her hand laid on his crooked arm, he helped her sit. Faced away from the others, Attalus threw her a wink.

Maybe the coronet wasn’t too much.

Straightening, Attalus met the many stares with an open confidence, his stance wide and his tail swishing. The beginnings of a grin teased his lips, as though he found the council before him amusing and only just held it back.

Leita cleared her throat, and more than one fae startled. She’d been totally forgotten in the face of a dazzling dragon princeps, and, honestly, she understood.

“May I introduce Attalus Princeps, Savrakae diadochos, and my azai.”