Hablet's rage on learning of her marriage did not bear thinking about.
On the other hand, if the demon child's ambitious plan succeeded, Adrina would know more power than she had ever imagined. As she thought about that possibility, Adrina began to wonder if she was going about this the wrong way. Damin seemed, if not exactly fond of her, then at least anxious to share her bed. And even Adrina was willing to admit that after a lifetime of paid court'esa and the pathetic attempts of her last husband to consummate their marriage, Damin was a pleasant change. Too pleasant, in fact. Once they reached Hythria, she would insist on her own quarters and make sure they could be locked, she decided firmly. If she couldn't keep him out of her bed by willpower alone, then perhaps a physical barrier would help.
That raised another uncomfortable thought. She had fled Karien with little more than the clothes on her back. The herbs she kept hidden in her trunk were still back in Karien and she had fallen into bed with Damin Wolfblade in a moment of blind and foolish weakness. She had done nothing since then to prevent conception and in the confusion of their escape, had lost track of the days since her last moon-time.
She would have to speak to Tamylan. Regardless of what the demon child wanted, Adrina had no intention of bringing a child into this world who could be used as a political pawn.
When Adrina finally emerged from her tent it was to discover the whole camp in turmoil. Everywhere she looked the Defenders were pulling down tents and hurrying to and fro, shouting orders and packing up their gear, obviously determined to demolish their campsite as quickly as possible. The Defenders ignored her in the confusion as she wandered through the camp, sidestepping men and piled up equipment. When she finally reached the officers' mess tent, one of the few not in danger of imminent destruction, she poked her head inside. The cooks were busy preparing lunch and paid her no attention until she addressed them directly. Even then, she had to ask twice.
“Where is Lord Wolfblade?”
The closest cook looked up and shrugged. The man beside him jerked his head in a generally northward direction. “He went off with the heathens. One of them is leaving, I think.”
The heathens, presumably, were Brak and R'shiel. She did not bother to thank the man, but followed his directions until she reached the edge of the camp. She spied Damin with Brak, then R'shiel and young Mikel, of all people, some fifty paces away. She had opened her mouth to call out to them when a remarkable thing happened.
One minute they were standing there talking, the next they were surrounded by little grey demons who seemed to pop out of thin air. There were too many to count and they clustered around Brak, vying for his attention like small children visiting with a favoured uncle. Mikel backed away from them warily, but the adults did not seem in the least concerned. Brak squatted down and spoke to one of the demons, who listened intently with big, liquid black eyes. The little creature nodded, then waddled a small distance away. Without any signal that Adrina could see, the other demons suddenly turned and ran to join the one Brak had spoken to.
Adrina blinked as the demons clustered around their leader and began to dissolve. That was the only word Adrina could think of to describe what was happening. They seemed to become fluid, as one by one they flowed together until the towering form of a dragon took shape, with metallic green scales and delicate, silver-tipped wings that glittered under the sullen sky.
When the dragon was complete, Brak reached up and scratched the bony ridge over its plate-sized eyes. With a final word to R'shiel he climbed onto the back of the magnificent beast. With a couple of powerful beats of its massive wings, the dragon was airborne, banking slowly to the left as it headed south.
Damin turned then and saw her.
“Brak asked me to say goodbye,” he told her when he reached the place where she was standing, open-mouthed, as she watched the dragon dwindle into the distance.
“That was... astonishing...” she managed to say.
“Well, let's hope your father is just as impressed,” R'shiel added as she and Mikel came up beside them.
“A dragon landing in the courtyard of the Summer Palace should get his attention,” Adrina agreed with a faint smile. Then she turned to Mikel. Even the sight of the stunning demon-melded dragon had not made her forget the boy had been lax in his duties. “Where have you been, child? Lord Wolfblade sent you to get my breakfast.”
“I —” Mikel began, but R'shiel came to his defence.
“I asked him to help me with something,” she explained. “You might have to find yourself another page for a while, Adrina.”
R'shiel took Mikel's hand and walked back towards the camp, leaving Adrina wide-eyed and more than a little put out.
“Did you have a hand in this?” she demanded of Damin.
He shrugged and looked almost as puzzled as she was. “It's the first I've heard of it. But it's not a bad idea. I'm going to have enough trouble explaining away a Fardohnyan bride when we get to Hythria, without having a Karien page to worry about.”
“I can't just abandon the child!” she protested.
“Isn't that what you were planning to do with him when you first crossed the border?”
She glared at him, annoyed that he was right, even more annoyed that he had guessed her intentions. “It's not the same thing.”
“Of course not,” he agreed drily.
“Don't you dare take that tone with me!”
“Then don't treat me like a fool,” he retorted. “Are you still hungry? You've missed breakfast, but I'm sure we could prevail upon the cooks for an early lunch.”
“I will not be patronised like a small child!”
“Stop looking for a fight, Adrina. Did you want to eat or not?”
Adrina was about to explode with fury when her stomach rumbled complainingly. Damin heard it clearly and laughed at her. “I'll take that as a yes. Come on, you'll fight better on a full stomach.”
“This is intolerable! I am not going to spend the rest of my life having you laugh at me.”
Damin's amusement faded and he looked at her closely. “Then drop this spoiled Princess act. There doesn't seem much point any more.”
“It's not an act!”
“The hell it isn't.”
“You don't know the first thing about me.”
“Don't I?”
“No!”
“Shall I tell you what I do know about you, Adrina?” he asked, suddenly more serious than she had ever seen him. “You were smart enough to keep the Karien Crown Prince out of your bed so you couldn't conceive an heir. You ordered your troops to surrender rather than see them slaughtered. You rode as hard as I ever pushed my own men without a complaint, because you knew your life depended on it.
“You are not who you pretend to be, Adrina, and it defies logic that you keep on pretending you are a fool. You're an intelligent woman, yet you insist on hiding it behind tantrums and childish, idiotic demands. I don't know why you do it. Perhaps it's because you grew up in a court where a smart woman was a dangerous one. The truth is, I don't really care. But if you want to survive as High Princess of Hythria, then you'd better learn to use that brain of yours for something other than causing mischief.”
His words stunned her into silence. She had no answer, could think of nothing to say. Never for a moment had she suspected that Damin's suspicion and mistrust was based on how clever he thought she was.
He waited for a moment, expecting her to retort with some sarcastic rejoinder. If her silence amused him, he did not let it show.