Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [87]
Tak had made it known he wanted to go outside. He probably felt safer in the fenced library park. With fewer, less severe bites, he had returned to normal quickly. His sores scabbed over almost as soon as she applied the salve.
Orli’s numerous wounds required more attention. The beasts had viciously sunk their teeth into both Orli and Old One as if they were the main targets of the attack. Orli lay on the step next to Old One. Ellie could probe his mind enough to determine that the minor dragon suffered from discomfort but not nagging pain. She picked up his concern for the old urohm. It would be good for the watch to come in early tonight. Not only Orli and Old One needed the ministering of the minor dragons. She wanted their comforting presence, and Bealomondore probably felt the same.
She tilted her head and listened. Bealomondore hummed as he worked on the second floor. He was getting more adept at scaling steps, chairs, cabinets, and anything else that got in his way. She didn’t recognize the tune, but she took comfort knowing he was close enough to call to if she needed him.
She walked slowly to the children’s area, determined to make tea, sit in a comfortable chair, and think. If they lived here for a long time, she wanted to live in a home, not a library. When she envisioned moving into a house, she pictured Bealomondore and herself in one of the smaller residences along one of the quiet streets farther from the center of the city. That was wrong.
Not the house. Not the street. But the two of them setting up house together.
Ellie felt her cheeks burn.
She put water in the kettle from the tap, placed it on the heating circle on the counter. While she waited for the water to boil, she got out the teapot and teacups. Then she sat down and stared out the window at a cloudless sky. At this time of day, she could see a place in the distance where the blue shifted color and marked the boundaries of their habitat. She couldn’t actually see the glass, but something different could be detected if she really concentrated.
Her mind drifted to the royal wedding and coronation ball. The excitement of such a grand celebration rippled through her calm pretense. She’d dreamed of her own wedding. In the village, among family and friends, her father would give her to some gentle and loving man. Bealomondore easily fit into the picture.
If they were to decide to marry, how could they do the ceremony part? Who would say the words that were always said? Who would ask the questions about their commitment? Her father would not be there, so who would possess her hand? Then who would take her hand from the entrusted one and place it in Bealomondore’s hand? The symbolism made the ceremony special.
She squeezed her eyes shut. What was she thinking? As long as they stayed in Rumbard City, their romance was acceptable. Who would object? The children? Old One? The dragons?
But should they ever escape, she would return to the village, where marriage ceremonies were simple and sweet. He would go to Ragar, where marriage ceremonies required elegance and style.
So … if she really hoped for their eventual escape, then kissing Bealomondore, holding his hand, leaning against his shoulder had to come to an end. No dreams about happily ever after.
She’d been raised in a no-nonsense household. If things were realistically within reach, then it was all right to try for them. But no daughter of her father would waste time, energy, and plans on something that could not possibly come to pass.
She’d almost forgotten who she was.
She opened her eyes and whispered to the empty room. “Ellicinderpart Clarenbessipawl of Glenbrooken Village—not within the village, mind you, but within walking distance if you’ve got the day free for such a trip.
“Ellicinderpart Clarenbessipawl, daughter of Naperkowson Clarenbessipawl and Emmademgotton Clarenbessipawl. Oldest sister in a brood of eight, trained in such