To play a duet with him sent a thrill through her heart. As if I could ever play with a professional, she thought to herself, appreciating the sentiment nonetheless. “Then I’ll take you up on the offer.”
After breakfast, Taliesin offered to show her around his home, and Rhiannon accepted. On the lower floors he pointed out a kitchen, as well as a study devoted to books on music rather than magic. Upstairs, he showed her where his bedroom was (just down the hall from hers), his ‘music room’ as he called it, and the bedroom that Bellflower called her own.
“It’s not much compared to your castle,” he chuckled, “but it’s home.”
“No, it’s wonderful.” While tiny compared to her own home, his cottage was cozy and lived-in—nothing like the large empty halls and impersonable staff that avoided her.
A smile quirked his lips. “It warms my heart to hear you say that.” He extended his arm for her to take. “Shall I show you around the grounds? It’s not a particularly large yard, but it’s the perfect size for a dragon or two.”
Rhiannon would never call green space big enough for two dragons to lounge small, although she supposed the dragons in question might. “I would love to see it.”
No sooner had they stepped outdoors, however, than did a small green missile smack into Taliesin’s chest and nearly bowl him over. “Ack! Copper! Calm down!” The miniature dragon refused to listen and lavished even more love on the bard. It crooned happily. “Yes, yes, I’m home— Ouch!” He tried to bat the little creature away after it butted its tiny horned head against him, nearly impaling him on the miniature protrusions. “Please stop that.”
Rhiannon stifled a giggle. “Who is this?” she asked, scritching under the teensy, tiny dragon’s chin.
“This is Copper the pixie dragon,” Taliesin said. “Copper, this is Her Highness, Princess Rhiannon.” The creature crooned his own greeting. “He’s somewhere between pet and assistant,” he explained. “He’s smarter than a wyvern but incapable of the common tongue like a greater dragon.”
With knitted brows, the creature trilled. At its complaint, Taliesin added, “I’m able to understand him, as can any other dragon.”
“I didn’t know dragons had their own language.”
“We do and don’t. It’s difficult to explain.” Taliesin lifted the pixie dragon onto his shoulder. “Shall we continue our stroll?”
Last night the courtyard-like field had been obscured by darkness. Now, every feature from the tall stone walls surrounding them to the cottage itself was bathed in the morning sun. In the daylight, she could appreciate the natural beauty of the mountaintop basin. The lake took up less space than Rhiannon had originally thought—if anything, it was more of an oversized pond than a true lake. Emerald waves of grass surrounded the water, and small groves of flowering trees leaned their branches over its glittering surface. A meticulous vegetable garden grew behind the house, watered by a creek bubbling on through. Here, Rhiannon thought she spotted a tiny flower fairy or two, though by the time she looked directly, the Fae had already vanished.
On the far side of the basin stood a cavernous opening to a tunnel. “It opens further down the mountain, but most humans cannot reach it.” Taliesin explained. “Even if your Sir Brodrick manages to find it, the trolls inside will give him a hard time.”
“There are trolls?” Rhiannon asked in surprise. She’d always assumed them nothing more than a legend, a fairy species that had died out long ago in the face of the sun.
“Most of their lives are spent deep in caves. I doubt you’ll ever encounter one.”
“Is it true they turn to stone in sunlight?”
Taliesin guided her away from the mouth of the cave. “Yes and no. Here or in the Fae courts they won’t since there’s so much magic in the air. Further down the mountain, however... Well, let’s just say I’ve seen more than one statue of the banished.”
Rhiannon shuddered. He placed a comforting hand against her lower back, leading her further from the cave.
By the time they’d explored the whole field, lunchtime had crept up on them. The first to realize was Copper, who alerted them with noisily trumpeted complaints while tugging at Taliesin’s sleeve. He chuckled indulgently. “All right, all right, we’ll head back.” To Rhiannon he said, “I’m sure Bellflower is expecting us. Shall we?”
Their return brought with it a plate of cold meats and an array of freshly baked breads. While simple fare, Rhiannon was firmly convinced that between the delicately braided brioche and the sheer variety of herb-crusted rolls, Bellflower had taken yet another opportunity to show off. Taliesin hardly batted an eye, however, so perhaps this was normal.
Accompanying the buffet was a pot of soup, the aroma of which made Rhiannon’s mouth water. The delicate broth suited her tastes more than the heavy meats and cheeses. When Taliesin offered to ladle some out for her, she gratefully accepted.
After a healthy helping of soup and a roll topped with roasted goose leftover from last night, Bellflower trotted out another surprise. The little glass dish layered with out-of-season fruits, moist sponges, and whipped cream delighted Rhiannon. She reined her excitement back when she realized there was only one dish placed before her on the table. Bellflower hadn’t brought dessert for Taliesin.
Concerned, Rhiannon asked, “Miss Bellflower isn’t still mad about yesterday, is she?”
Taliesin chuckled. “No, no, I do believe my transgressions have been forgiven.”
“Then, um, pardon my asking, but is there some other reason she didn’t bring you a parfait?”
He chose a piece of sliced roast to toss to Copper, who swooped in to snap it up midair. “I’m part dragon,” he explained. “I don’t taste sweet things in the same way you can. Because of that, it’s rather difficult to enjoy fresh fruits or the other treats Bellflower delights in making.”
Feeling sheepish, the princess dropped her gaze to the sweet in front of her. “I didn’t realize.”
“Most don’t, but it’s all right.” As he watched her take a bite, the way her face melted into bliss stirred something in him. Not jealousy. Rather, something else he shunted away lest it make him overstep as he had on their journey. Whatever it was, it wasn’t safe to acknowledge until he could ask his mother just what she’d been experimenting on him with this time.
Catching his stare, Rhiannon balanced a ruby red raspberry covered with cream on her spoon and offered it to Taliesin. “Would you care for a bite?”
He blinked at her, then shifted his attention to the tasty morsel.
“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t. Since you can’t really taste—”
Taliesin’s mouth closed around the spoon. He licked his lips as he retreated, the red juice briefly staining them. Rhiannon blushed, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. “You needn’t have forced yourself.”
“I never said I disliked them. Just that they were harder to enjoy.” He licked his lips again, wiping away the scarlet.
“Oh.” Rhiannon swirled the cream and raspberries in the dish, breaking up the sponges. “What does it taste like to you?”
He hummed thoughtfully. “A little sweet,” he said, “but probably not as sweet or complex as it is to your sense of taste. The whipped cream’s nice. I don’t taste the sweet so much, but the texture and, well, creaminess is delightful.”
“It’s a shame that you can’t taste it.”
“It’s for the best,” Taliesin replied. “Sugar is surprisingly bad for carnivorous animals, dragons included. We’re a lot like cats in that way. If I could taste it more strongly, it likely wouldn’t end well for me.”
She hadn’t thought about that. “Then I’m guessing that’s why you don’t eat much in the way of vegetables either?”
“I can eat them, and I enjoy some more than others, but yes, more or less. I need to eat some food for my human side, but likely not as much as you.”
Rhiannon remembered the potatoes back at the inn so long ago. “And potatoes?”
“Oh, those are terrible for me,” he laughed, “but when they’re cooked with a roast? Perfection. I could sing their praises for days.” The little dragon that clambered into his lap squawked in disgust. “Hey, no one said you had to have any.”
Rhiannon laughed too, a sound like music to Taliesin’s ears. She wiped a tear from her eye. “He’s a delight,” she said of Copper. The dragon crooned his appreciation of her fingers tickling beneath his chin. “Maybe you should take him with you when you travel with your violin.”
“What do you think, Copper? Want to go on an adventure?” The pixie dragon made an agreeable noise. “All right, that’s it. You’re coming with me and singing along for your supper.”
Rhiannon would like to see that. Though it would mean staying long enough for Taliesin to travel again. Did she want to linger that long? And if he did travel as a bard, would he take her with him? Or would she remain in this quaint little cottage with nowhere else to go?
A chirping tune brought her back to herself. Copper had clambered up to perch across Taliesin’s shoulders, his long neck and tail swaying back and forth like a metronome in time with the bard’s conducting finger. He whistled, chirped, and clicked along to the cheery folk song Taliesin hummed for their benefit. When Taliesin began to sing the words, Rhiannon felt all her doubts float away.
And when he opened his eyes and smiled warmly at her, she knew, somehow, that he would never leave her behind.