“And thus after aiding our mysterious ally with his wound,” I explain to King Mahlir, “he and his dragon left.”
King Mahlir sits upon his throne, he and his four generals (and in fact, everyone in the court) staring at us with wide eyes. The only one who doesn’t look as astounded is Prince Philander—he sits upon his throne beside his father, looking regal, even with his bandaged arm carefully propped up on the arm rest, hidden under his royal purple overcoat. I know one good pat on his shoulder and someone would realize how badly wounded he is. But then again, who is going to so leisurely pat the Prince of Amenyl on the shoulder?
“And you have no idea who this bonded rider and dragon are?” General Norman asks.
(more…)