“On Lysip? Where?”
“To the north. The rocky earth and claylike soil give it that mineral taste.” Coletta set down her glass. Putting her fingers on either side of its stem, she swirled it around thoughtfully. “It’s about time viticulture came to Lysip. While I appreciated the irony of House Xin making a crimson beverage I think it’s far more fitting for this to be an area of Rok expertise.”
“I never thought of the color.” Yveun copied Coletta’s motion before setting the glass aside.
Coletta did the same, and the atmosphere shifted.
“Fae is to your liking?” She phrased it as a question, but they both knew better.
“More so than Leona, even.”
That was the answer Coletta wanted to hear. “I believe she will be good for us.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Yveun chewed his food for a long moment. “She will be the ideal asset to finally hunt down the Perfect Chimera. Truly fitting.”
Coletta hummed thoughtfully.
“You disagree.”
“Let the Chimera be.” Like always, the Dono was narrow-minded when it came to things that eluded him, things he felt entitled to. Ah, to have the mind of a man, and have the world rendered as such a simple, linear place. “She has already made a fool of you too many times.”
“Which is precisely why—”
“Why we will not allow it to happen again.” Coletta did not appreciate being interrupted. She inhaled. Yveun made no motion to speak, so she continued. “The next time you see the Chimera will be when her death is assured. For now, we must keep Fae here to secure order on Nova.”
“On Nova?” His pores practically oozed sex at the idea.
“She will go with Finnyr.”
Yveun paused mid-drink, then slowly lowered his glass to the table. He ran the pads of his fingers over the rim of the glass. She could almost see him working out how quickly a boco could get to Ruana and back.
“Would it not be better to keep her here? It will be hard for her to earn the respect of the other Riders if she is off in the Xin Manor. How will she win beads?”
“She has enough beads for three strands of hair.” Coletta took a small bite of the meal. The flavors were well balanced.
“Underground fighting pits and back alley brawls do not a Rider make. We can’t recognize those kills for beads.”
“Do you think she cares?” Coletta reached for her wine again.
There was a good reason she always saw wine set out. If Yveun was well mannered, they enjoyed it together. If he was stubborn but tolerable, she enjoyed having something to take the edge off. The few times he was outright unpleasant toward her, Coletta fantasized about how easy it would be to place a lethal dose of poison in his glass.
“So she goes with Finnyr, then.” Yveun finally resigned. “For what purpose? House Xin will not appreciate us sending a bodyguard for a man they no doubt want to kill.”
“Since when have we cared what House Xin thinks?”
Yveun laughed. It was a delightful sound, so genuine that even Coletta could admit it made him particularly attractive.
“Petra is dead. They are clawless. Now is the time to press harder, not pull back. No half-measures.”
He repeated their House motto, toasting her as he did. “‘Break them again when they are already broken, and see they rebuild in a way we find fitting.’”
She raised her glass to her lips with a smile. Yveun had the look of a king, but his mind was always a step behind hers. They made for a formidable pair in that respect. He was every inch what Nova wanted and Loom needed in a Dragon King; she was every scheming thought required to maintain the fa?ade of his qualifications.
“I believe Fae has magic in her ears. Set up a whisper link with her so that we may know what’s going on,” Coletta suggested.
“But—”
“I will not be going anywhere.” She waved the notion away. It was kind, but unnecessary for him to reserve that channel of communication for her alone. Allowing him to establish a link with Fae would not only give them a direct line to the Xin Manor, but would also please her mate, deepen his bond with Fae. “Set up a link with her.”
“If you insist.” Yveun couldn’t conceal his excitement at the notion, though he mastered his face into seriousness. “There’s another matter I wish to discuss about the woman.”
“You have my attention.” And what a rare commodity that was.
“I assume you know of her . . . tastes.”
“You mean her proclivity for imbibing?” The delicate manner in which Yveun brought it up made it clear they were speaking about more than feasting on the heart of a fallen foe. This was imbibing from the living. “Yes, I am aware.”
“An idea has crossed my mind.”
“Oh?” Coletta always enjoyed Yveun’s ideas. They were either fantastic—an equal match for her own—or they reminded her why she was usually the strategist between them.
“All this nonsense over a ‘Perfect Chimera’—a Fenthri that can possess all Dragon organs containing magic without falling. Why not a perfect Dragon?”
Coletta paused, considering the idea. The difficulty of a perfect chimera for the Fenthri came from the fact that their bodies weren’t meant for magic; they struggled to combat the rot that resulted from forcing magic on a body not intended to contain it. Dragons did not share this same barrier.
“You want to give Fae organs as a Fen Chimera would receive.”
“I want to make her strong.”
“The woman is plenty strong as the gods made her.” Coletta ran her fingertip across the lip of her wineglass until it hummed softly, stopping the moment the vibrations made sound. “But I agree with you, Yveun. And I do not think she would be opposed to the idea.”
“Excellent. Then we shall keep her here until such time as—”
“No, she will leave with Finnyr as planned.” It was one of Yveun’s better ideas, and Coletta would reward him for it—in time, in her own way. But keeping Fae on Ruana while sending Finnyr to the snake pit unprotected would not be that reward. “That is most important. I will seek out Fen slaves who bear the Alchemist triangles, and we shall experiment first. After all, if Fae is to be sculpted as the perfect Dragon, we must perfect our process foremost.”
“Very well.” He hummed. “Speaking of that which we will sculpt to perfection . . .”
“Loom?”
“Loom.” Yveun rested his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers in front of him. “What word have you from your little flowers on the gray rock?”
“The Fen are, indeed, demoralized. But it seems that one is spurring another rebellion.”
“Stubborn, suicidal creatures.” Yveun shook his head as a father might, faced with a petulant child.
“They are convening on Ter.0 for a Vicar Tribunal,” Coletta continued, reciting her information, not bothering to correct Yveun’s incorrect assumption that it came from a Dragon on Loom. Even Fenthri would sell out each other for the right price.
“Vicar Tribunal. How long has it been since I’ve heard such a notion?”