"Fine," she said. "But then we are having tea. Non-negotiable."
His eyes agreed. The agreement was immediate, genuine, and carrying the specific sincerity of a dragon who understood that cooperation produced baths and massages and resistance produced lectures, and the bath-to-lecture ratio favored cooperation.
She walked toward the arena. Petra fell into step beside her, Avalon on her hip, both women navigating the flow of personnel with the composed authority of a queen and her attendant cutting through a crowd that parted for them because the crowd had learned that failing to part produced commentary.
They reached the edge of the training field. A cluster of Draken Forces soldiers were gathered along the perimeter, craning their necks, jostling for sightlines.
"What are they gawking at?" Bellatrix snapped at the nearest soldier, a young man whose posture went rigid so fast his spine nearly overcorrected.
