“No, milady.”
“Tell me, what was I doing in these dreams?” The Lady changed tactics, it seemed.
Lilly thought back to those hazy visions of the woman who now sat before her. “I saw your face, rippling as if reflected in a pool of water. What I remember most was the sparkle of what I thought was ice in your hair.”
“Ice?” the Lady mused. “Interesting. I wear the diamonds of my station out of habit, and in memory of my husband and son, now gone. Feodren, my husband, gave me these jewels as a wedding gift.” Lady Adain touched the glittering gems in her hair as a wistful smile passed over her face. Lilly could tell she’d loved her husband a great deal, and her heart went out to the widow.
“They are beautiful, milady,” Lilly said in a quiet voice.
“He was a handsome man with a beautiful soul, and our son, Feodor, was just as pure of heart and strong of character. He passed that on to his sons, Detlif and Lucassian. Of course, their mother was a good woman, of good family, as well. When Feodor and his wife passed on, I took them in. Detlif was already a knight. He’d passed beyond scouthood. But Luc was still a boy. Shilayla was just out of the shell, and they were both so lost. I thank the Mother of All that they had each other in those early years.”
Lilly’s heart went out to the boy Luc had been. “Shilayla and he are very close.”
“They’re heartmates. It’s the way we bond with our dragon friends. Not as close, in some ways, as humans bond with other kinds of dragons, but snow dragons are different than their more colorful cousins. They are wilder, and their magic is very close to the surface. My own heartmate and I have been together since I was just a girl. We are friends and colleagues. We help each other and support each other’s magic. We can draw from each other’s power resources when need arises. That is something humans cannot generally do.”
“I’ve heard bards speak of the dragons in Draconia, who bond with knights to fight, but I’ve never heard of those dragons bonding to share magic.”
“That’s because magic is never as close to the surface in humans, as a general rule, as it is in our people. The Draconian Lairs are for fighting. Those dragons bond very closely with their partners, extending their knights’ lives well beyond that of a regular man. We have no need of the snow dragon’s magic for that. Instead, we share our magics with our heartmates when needed, as they share theirs with us in return. It is a different relationship that has different consequences. My own Feodren, for example, didn’t have a heartmate. He was the Lord of House Adain. When he sought a wife, he chose me, probably because I was already bonded with Mena” The Lady looked fondly toward one long window where the sandy courtyard and a pair of white dragons were visible, lounging in the sun. “All Council members must be partnered. It is our law. Seven dragons and their seven partners shall sit on the Council to guide the rest. When I married into House Adain, I gained a great deal of political power, but I had to have power of my own—magical power—or Feodren would never have chosen me.”
“Did you love him?”
The Lady smiled wistfully. “I did. We were married longer than you’ll live, Lilly, if you’ll pardon my saying so. What started as respect and affection grew quickly into a love I will never forget and that can never be replaced. That’s why I’ve never remarried. Nobody could live up to my Feodren.”
“I’m sorry, milady.”
“Don’t be, child.” The Lady reached over and patted her hand. “I was happy with my marriage, and proud of the way Feodren gave his life. He died to safeguard our greatest responsibility. His sacrifice was a noble one, and I will not see it come to naught because we have hidden ourselves away too long. The Citadel shall not fall. Not while there is breath still in my body.” Out in the courtyard, the Lady’s dragon partner trumpeted once, as if in support of her heartmate’s strong words. “That’s why I’m glad you’ve come, Lilly. The Mother of All sent you to us so that we may keep our sacred trust.” The Lady’s intensity dimmed somewhat. “Now, tell me more of your dreams.”
Lilly realized the Lady’s mission that morning was to educate Lilly about the fair folk and the history of House Adain as much as it was to learn more of Lilly. She was grateful for the frank discussion. It helped her understand the men of this house and the way the dragons interacted. She’d need that knowledge if she were going to travel with Luc and Shilayla all the way back to Valdis Maj.
“As I said, I saw your face, wavering as if reflected in a pool of water. Everything was white or reflective, like ice, snow and water. Silver and white. You moved back, and there was a massive archway. You stood in front of it, blocking it so that I couldn’t see what was behind, and then, you moved your hands, and white light erupted, blinding my inner eye. When the light dissipated, sparkles of light rained down in a floating cloud, seeping into all it touched, and a mirror shone in front of me. I could see you through it, but it wavered like the water, and I saw my own reflection looking back. Like a ghost, I was almost transparent.”
The Lady sat back, thinking, for a long time. Lilly began to eat her breakfast, slowly taking a small bite of the fluffy omelet that grew cold as they talked. The food was delicious, but Lilly had a hard time paying much attention to it, eating mechanically as her mind sorted through the conversation and the strange images of her dream. She didn’t understand them at all.
But the Lady did. Lilly would bet her new set of riding leathers on it. The Lady was lost in thought, but her demeanor was not that of someone confused by what she’d heard. Rather, she seemed somehow resigned.
“Were there any other beings in your vision?” The question caught Lilly by surprise. She lowered her fork, thinking back on the confusing images.
“It felt like there were people around. I had the impression of a woman. Maybe two. And something outside that made everything feel urgent.”
“Any dragons?”
“Not that I saw, milady. But everything in the dream was white. Blindingly so. It would be easy for the shine of dragon scale to deceive my inner eye, so I can’t be completely certain that one of your white friends wasn’t the backdrop for my dream.” A smile tugged at the corner of Lilly’s mouth, and an answering spark of amusement lit in the Lady’s eyes.
“They are big, aren’t they?” Lady Adain turned to look out the window at her heartmate. “I forget how different they must seem to someone who’s never met a dragon before.”
“Alric said I’d be impressed.” Too late, Lilly realized the familiarity she’d let slip.
“You call your King by name? I take it you are close?”
“We are friends, milady. I’ve held his hand through more than one vision, and he was there for me when I had my first dreams of you. He also helped me through the first onset of my healing talent. He’s a rock of support for me and for all his people. He is a true leader of men, and I would follow him wherever he led.”
“Your loyalty is a strong mark in his favor, Lilly, but we already knew King Alric was a good King from the way his people thrive. My question, and I hope you won’t find it too impertinent, is whether you and Alric are closer than King and loyal subject. I wouldn’t ask, but I see the way my grandson looks at you. I’d prefer he not run afoul of a jealous man who happens to be King.”