he didn't like the dragons who lived in the Fyreborn Islands. He did. He enjoyed wave whomping with them whenever he and Jaenelle visited the islands. But the last thing he needed was a dragon the size of a pony…not including the tail…waiting by the door to flame anyone who crossed the threshold.
"It would solve the problem of uninvited guests," Jaenelle pointed out.
"No."
She got that half-puzzled look on her face that always made him think of a kitten puzzling over a large, hoppy bug. "I wonder if any of the kindred have witches with a gift for hearth-Craft. What would they use it for?"
"It doesn't matter." His voice sounded firm, didn't it? Hell's fire, he hoped it sounded firm. "I need a human with enough housekeeping skills that Helene and Merry will be satisfied that the eyrie is being tended and whose presence will keep any other females from thinking that…" He bit back the words. Best not to mention Roxie again.
Jaenelle hesitated. "There is a hearth witch who has come to Kaeleer recently."
"Through the service fairs?" Lucivar asked, wondering about Jaenelle's hesitation.
The twice-yearly service fairs in Little Terreille had been set up to deal with the flood of Terreilleans fleeing the cruelty of the courts and Territories under the influence of Dorothea SaDiablo, the High Priestess of Hayll.
"No,"Jaenelle replied. "I brought her in."
What in the name of Hell were you doing in Terreille? He knew better than to ask her that question. He'd just visit the Hall in the next day or two and ask his father.
"She may be… content… where she is,"Jaenelle said, "but I can ask if she'd consider being your housekeeper."
"All right."
Jaenelle nodded. "I can…" Her mood turned grumpy, and she rolled her eyes.
"No, I can't. I have to do Queenly things tomorrow, and there's a formal…
something… late in the evening."
Lucivar grinned. "Something that requires getting all polished and dressed up?"
Jaenelle hated fancy dress.
"Yes," she growled, "it's dress-up. But there will be time to come back here after your usual dinner hour."
"That won't give you much time to get ready."
The look she gave him could have frozen blood.
"I could still see if there are hearth witches among the dragons," Jaenelle said.
Feeling more relaxed than he'd felt all week, Lucivar stood, stretched, then bent over to give Jaenelle a kiss on the top of her head. "Don't threaten your older brother," he scolded mildly. "Especially after I took the brunt of Father's snarling over the raft."
Wincing, she looked up at him. "Was it bad? He just kept gritting his teeth when he saw me and refused to talk about it."
Lucivar straightened up and leaned against one of the porch's supporting posts.
"No, it wasn't bad. He was actually quite calm about our making a raft out of what he called 'twigs and kindling'…"
"Which is what it was," Jaenelle said.
"…and holding the whole thing together with nothing but Craft."
"Which is what we did."
"And he said he understood why we felt we needed to be standing on the thing when we put it in the river to test it."
"How else were we supposed to find out if it worked?"
"He even managed to sound calm about our not abandoning the raft after we hit the rapids. And he didn't yell about our going over the waterfall." Lucivar scratched his neck. "Although, I still haven't figured out how he could speak so clearly with his teeth clenched like that."
Jaenelle leaned forward. "You didn't tell him the raft started breaking up before we. went over the waterfall, did you?"
"Do I look like a fool?" Lucivar demanded. "Of course I didn't tell him that.
Besides, what threatened to pop a few blood vessels was his finding out that we went back to the starting point and did the whole thing all over again."
"Oh, dear," Jaenelle said. "I'm surprised the walls of the Hall didn't shake when he started yelling."
"He didn't have a chance to yell." Lucivar smiled that lazy, arrogant smile that always signaled
"It would solve the problem of uninvited guests," Jaenelle pointed out.
"No."
She got that half-puzzled look on her face that always made him think of a kitten puzzling over a large, hoppy bug. "I wonder if any of the kindred have witches with a gift for hearth-Craft. What would they use it for?"
"It doesn't matter." His voice sounded firm, didn't it? Hell's fire, he hoped it sounded firm. "I need a human with enough housekeeping skills that Helene and Merry will be satisfied that the eyrie is being tended and whose presence will keep any other females from thinking that…" He bit back the words. Best not to mention Roxie again.
Jaenelle hesitated. "There is a hearth witch who has come to Kaeleer recently."
"Through the service fairs?" Lucivar asked, wondering about Jaenelle's hesitation.
The twice-yearly service fairs in Little Terreille had been set up to deal with the flood of Terreilleans fleeing the cruelty of the courts and Territories under the influence of Dorothea SaDiablo, the High Priestess of Hayll.
"No,"Jaenelle replied. "I brought her in."
What in the name of Hell were you doing in Terreille? He knew better than to ask her that question. He'd just visit the Hall in the next day or two and ask his father.
"She may be… content… where she is,"Jaenelle said, "but I can ask if she'd consider being your housekeeper."
"All right."
Jaenelle nodded. "I can…" Her mood turned grumpy, and she rolled her eyes.
"No, I can't. I have to do Queenly things tomorrow, and there's a formal…
something… late in the evening."
Lucivar grinned. "Something that requires getting all polished and dressed up?"
Jaenelle hated fancy dress.
"Yes," she growled, "it's dress-up. But there will be time to come back here after your usual dinner hour."
"That won't give you much time to get ready."
The look she gave him could have frozen blood.
"I could still see if there are hearth witches among the dragons," Jaenelle said.
Feeling more relaxed than he'd felt all week, Lucivar stood, stretched, then bent over to give Jaenelle a kiss on the top of her head. "Don't threaten your older brother," he scolded mildly. "Especially after I took the brunt of Father's snarling over the raft."
Wincing, she looked up at him. "Was it bad? He just kept gritting his teeth when he saw me and refused to talk about it."
Lucivar straightened up and leaned against one of the porch's supporting posts.
"No, it wasn't bad. He was actually quite calm about our making a raft out of what he called 'twigs and kindling'…"
"Which is what it was," Jaenelle said.
"…and holding the whole thing together with nothing but Craft."
"Which is what we did."
"And he said he understood why we felt we needed to be standing on the thing when we put it in the river to test it."
"How else were we supposed to find out if it worked?"
"He even managed to sound calm about our not abandoning the raft after we hit the rapids. And he didn't yell about our going over the waterfall." Lucivar scratched his neck. "Although, I still haven't figured out how he could speak so clearly with his teeth clenched like that."
Jaenelle leaned forward. "You didn't tell him the raft started breaking up before we. went over the waterfall, did you?"
"Do I look like a fool?" Lucivar demanded. "Of course I didn't tell him that.
Besides, what threatened to pop a few blood vessels was his finding out that we went back to the starting point and did the whole thing all over again."
"Oh, dear," Jaenelle said. "I'm surprised the walls of the Hall didn't shake when he started yelling."
"He didn't have a chance to yell." Lucivar smiled that lazy, arrogant smile that always signaled
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