And yet she couldn’t believe it—or more accurately, she didn’t want to believe it. “Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not,” Gertrude denied, fast and flat. “According to Bellflower’s message, Taliesin thinks I enchanted him somehow as part of this promise I made—that I don’t remember making, by the way—which makes me think he must have fallen for you and doesn’t understand what’s going on.” From there, her analysis turned clinical, like she was talking about some other dragon and not her own son. “He’s never shown interest in another being, human or dragon, and is confused. He’s attracted to you, and due to timing, well, his biology is fighting with his good sense and romantic heart.”
A wry smile twisted her lips. “He’s in love with you, but knowing him, he doesn’t think he’s known you long enough to have fallen heels over head the way he has. Add to that the, shall we say, joys of the current timing? There are just too many things going on in his brain for him to make sense of any of it.”
Love. It was a word Rhiannon had heard bandied about often enough. Brodrick regularly proclaimed his feelings with the casual force of a charging bull, and with all the sincerity of one. Really, he’d just loved the challenge. Once Rhiannon was another notch in his belt, he would tire of her. The only thing that would keep her around was the status he would obtain by attaching her to him. She might only be the third child of the king, but she was the child of a king. So much higher in rank than the son of a nobleman who was hardly important enough to visit court to bow and scrape.
Taliesin cared little for her title, and why would he? Even without membership in an arcana, his being a warlock arguably trumped hers as third princess. And he was about as likely to inherit the throne through her as she herself was, considering that her older brothers already had large families of their own.
And while he hadn’t said the word, he’d proven it multiple times. Taliesin might think it nothing more than some enchantment, but he’d still kept her safe on their journey when he could just as easily have abandoned her to the guards. He’d chased away her nightmares when he easily could have hurt her instead.
She was his wife, and while she was still sorting things out, she couldn’t imagine herself at someone else’s side. “He won’t hurt me, will he?”
She frowned. “Taliesin is a dragon, not an asshole. And if he does, I will personally—”
Blushing furiously, Rhiannon said faintly, “No, I mean...it won’t hurt, will it?”
Gertrude blinked at her, clearly thrown for a loop. “Wait, you’re staying?”
Flustered, she couldn’t lift her gaze from her teacup. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“There’s always my house in Magia. No one would dare touch you there.”
She amended, “I don’t want to go anywhere else.”
Maybe she’d been on to something, Gertrude thought, asking that Rhiannon be sent here. “Well then, if I might make a suggestion?”
Rhiannon’s eyes flicked up and away. “What sort of suggestion?”
“Talk to him. It takes two to tango. If you have any concerns, he’s the one you should be talking to.” Gertrude selected a crunchy butter cookie to fiddle with for a moment. As an afterthought, she mused aloud, “There is one thing you ought to know that he might not think of. It will probably relieve you to know that Taliesin can’t have children, so you can just let loose.”
Of course, Taliesin chose that moment to return. Mortified, he cried out, “Mother! What have you been talking about?!”
“Oh, just this and that,” she said dismissively. “You should have stayed away longer. We were having such a nice chat.”
“At my expense, it sounds like.” Taliesin’s gold eyes narrowed appraisingly. “Rhiannon, she hasn’t gone overboard, has she?” Rhiannon mutely shook her head. He glanced at Bellflower, who shrugged in the universal yes and no gesture.
Pushing back her chair, Gertrude said, “Suffice it to say that things are sorted out now. Congratulations on your engagement.” Accepting her bag, she dug through it. Finding what she was looking for, she plunked the pocket-size bottle of viscous lavender liquid on the table. “This should cool the blood if need be,” she told Taliesin with a smirk. “Take good care of your cute wife.”
Taliesin snatched the bottle off the table. “Whatever you’ve gotten in your head—”
“Humor your mother. Now, I ought to be heading back. Spinel’s probably worrying his scales off by now.” She snagged the back of Taliesin’s head and forced him to lean forward enough that she could stand on tiptoe to plant a motherly kiss on his forehead. “Toodles.”
“Mother!” But the woman had already slipped out of the house entirely before they could blink. Taliesin chased after her, only to find that she’d already mounted her broom sidesaddle.
She hovered a few feet off the ground, not flying away just yet. “Yes?” she asked in amusement.
“You haven’t undone whatever spell you cast on me!”
“I’ve been far too busy to put any spells on you,” she said cheerfully. “Besides, you made me swear never to cast something on or for you without your permission after the self-tuning violin incident.” She waved. “I filled Rhiannon in. See you in a few weeks!” Gertrude blew a kiss, and off she zipped, leaving the pair alone once more.
Taliesin combed back his bangs with a sigh and returned to Rhiannon’s side in the dining room. She hadn’t moved an inch, though Bellflower appeared to have poured her another cup of tea before vanishing somewhere or other. “I apologize for whatever my mother said to you. She tends to be, well...” And he waved vaguely toward the door.
“It’s all right,” Rhiannon said faintly.
Taliesin hesitated, then knelt beside her chair to take her hands. “Look, whatever she said—”
“She said you paired with me.”
The words came quiet. Taliesin’s head jerked up. Seconds ticked by where neither said anything, waiting on the other. Just as the silence began to drag on too long, Taliesin cleared his throat. “What?”
“You’ve paired with me. And I’m okay with that. I...”
He squeezed her hands. “Rhiannon, I’m not—” Taliesin stopped. Somehow, it felt like lying. Like for Rhiannon before him, things started to add up if he looked at it through this new lens. “This doesn’t mean we have to do anything. I’m sure my mother made it sound like we had to, but dragons aren’t like that.” Again, it felt like lying. Some dragons certainly were like that, but Taliesin was human too, damn it.
He reached for the bottle on the table and popped the stopper. Although subtle, the scent stung Taliesin’s nose as he gave it an experimental sniff. It brought back memories of his childhood, in a way. Gertrude had brewed tons of this while he was growing up, and with the smell alone slowing the pounding of his heart, he began to understand why.
Rhiannon’s hand covered the bottle’s opening. Taliesin blinked, the spell broken. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “What would happen if we... What if I said I wanted to...”
Taliesin went still. “I wouldn’t touch you unless you were sure. Are you?”
“I...” Rhiannon flushed and shyly retreated a step. “I just don’t want you to be in pain. What happens if you try to wait out mating season?”
“I’m not so fragile that waiting would do me harm.”
Taliesin took a swig and made a face at the bitter medicine. Effective it might be, but it tasted vile. He quietly prayed to the Goddess that he’d never have to swallow that tincture again. There was only one way that would happen, however. His cheeks warmed at the thought. Taliesin corked the bottle and pocketed it.
“So...” Rhiannon began but stopped. How could she ask whether it worked without sounding either disappointed or happy? Or, she miserably thought, what did one say when both were somehow true at the same time?
With a small chuckle, he brushed a stray lock of her hair back behind her ear. “It worked just fine. No need to worry. If you’re disappointed, we can revisit this conversation another time.”
Hesitantly, Rhiannon asked, “Will you really be okay if we wait? Please. Tell me the truth.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t want you hurting or feeling lonely or...” Rhiannon averted her eyes once more. All he’d already gone through on her account crowded her thoughts, and that was just what she knew of. “I don’t want you to suffer anymore because of me.”
“This and that are two very different things. Besides, I would be far more upset if you made yourself uncomfortable for my sake. Then I’d be no better than he-who-shall-not-be-named.”
That earned the giggle he had aimed for. Taliesin traced his fingers along her jaw to beneath her chin. With the lightest touch, he tilted her face up to meet his and kissed her gingerly on the lips. He put a little more pressure behind a second kiss and forced himself to retreat.
The need had lessened, but a kernel of it still sat hot in his belly. Maybe that potion hadn’t worked as well on him as they’d hoped.