Najlah growled, eyes swirling pink, purple, and blue. He cast a look at Barkus, sharing his thoughts and questions.
"I agree," Barkus replied. "Your Highness, tell us more about these curses you keep mentioning. It sounds… cruel."
"It is cruel. Royal spies are sworn to serve the crown with their lives, quite literally. They are not allowed to take up their duties until they're tattooed with a killing curse that only a designated person—usually my father's spymaster—can activate. But these three worked for me and me alone. The law said they must have the marks, but I never intended to use them, even if they did betray me. It's a cruel and cowardly way to kill someone, impersonal and inhumane. I never liked it."
"Do you have such a mark?" Barkus asked.
"No. Royalty are forbidden; it's too much of a risk. As my poor comrades have exhibited. I just don't understand why. They had nothing to do with any of this. Their only duty was to tell me what was being said in the city about the Lukos and the Tahjili. That was all. I was going to send them home for their own safety. They were a threat to no one."
Najlah growled again, tail lashing, eyes swirling vibrantly with purple and blues now. They are trying to isolate him, leave him alone and weakened, easier prey. Common tactic for hunting rock spiders. Separate from the herd, wound, kill. The direct method didn't work, so they're trying different means. But why? Why would they want such an impressive hornless—for a human, anyway—dead? It makes no sense.
Frowning, Barkus conveyed the thoughts to Tevra. "Highness, you must know some reason people want you dead and decided to… consolidate problems… by framing Najlah for your death."
"I really don't know. My father sometimes gets irate that I garner more attention than my brother, the crown prince, but that's not a killing offense. It's not as though I've ever tried to contest Fedor for the throne or anything."
Politics don't interest me on a good day, but I know enough about them to know that is, in fact, a killing offense.
"I agree," Barkus said quietly. "I'll get in touch with my uncle about sending some of our own to look into the matter." When Tevra gave them a puzzled look, he explained. "My apologies, Your Highness. We shouldn't be so rude."
"No, it's not like you're doing it on purpose," Tevra said. "I can see it's just the way you two communicate. Her Grace has offered to help me learn Tahjili as she has time, though I like to think I'm not so crass I would presume upon the time and energy of a woman who is days away from giving birth."
Najlah flicked his tongue, eyes swirling pink. "My sister does as she pleases, like any good bitch, and brutes who disobey get what they deserve."
Barkus laughed. "If she has offered, she means it, and you'd offend her by refusing."
"Is that what he actually said?" Tevra asked faintly.
"He said she's a good bitch, and does as she pleases, and disobedient brutes get what they deserve."
Tevra shook his head slightly. "Where I come from, if you call a woman—anyone—a bitch, you will find yourself punched at best, stabbed at worse. It is very strange to hear it as simply a descriptor or even a compliment."
Najlah growled his confusion at that.
"Not enough time in the day, my lord," Tevra said. "If you're ever that bored, I'll be happy to explain Gormestia's long, sordid history of treating women like lesser beings. Right now, though, I feel we've other matters to attend."
Thwacking his tail against the floor in agreement, Najlah gladly led the way back out of the morgue.
Where are we going now?
Tevra glanced at him. "Assuming you're asking what next, I at least am going into the city. I need to know everything I can about who killed my people and how. I should be the only one who can do such a thing. The curse is bound to my blood, and my blood alone."
Barkus frowned thoughtfully. "They could have taken your blood when they tried to kill you."
"They were trying to kill me—why take my blood?" Tevra asked. "I was as good as dead, save for the fact Najlah realized there was a problem. Even if they had done so, it would have been useless if they'd succeeded in killing me, which they had every reason to believe they would. I doubt even the most thorough strategist would have anticipated Najlah saving me. With me dead, the blood curse would have been nullified. So if they'd taken it to tie up loose ends or potential threats, that wouldn't have helped them."
Najlah growled. "A good hunter always has three escape routes."
Barkus repeated the words, and Tevra sighed. "Fair enough. It is the simplest explanation. I'm off into the city then. I'm sorry that I interrupted whatever you two were doing before my friends' bodies showed up."
"We were investigating the matter of your attempted murder and securing the area, Your Highness, so you were hardly interrupting," Barkus replied. "If you're going into the city, we're going with you. Najlah has been appointed your protector, and I go where he goes—plus you need a translator."
Tevra sighed again. "I'd prefer not to put more people in danger, since my father very clearly wants me dead at all costs, but as you wish."
"Thank you, Your Highness," Barkus said, then turned to his cousins, still following quietly, and silently gave them orders. "My cousins will continue to investigate the palace and grounds. Do we need a guide who's familiar with the city?"
"No, I'm familiar enough for what we need to do," Tevra said. "I've been here before, though covertly and not for some years."
Najlah chittered at that, tail thwacking the ground. Going places he shouldn't? He really is a human version of a hornless brute.
Barkus shot him an amused look, but didn't say anything, silently or aloud. "Shall we be on our way? Do you need a horse, Your Highness?"
"You may as well call me Tevra. If you call me 'Highness' while we're in the city, it's going to draw too much attention, and the three of us are going to draw enough of that as it is. I do need a horse, yes. There's no way I'd keep up with the two of you otherwise. I brought my courser with me; it should be more than up to the task."
Najlah growled, tail lashing, eyes swirling pink. He seemed to spend a lot of his time around Tevra confused. Humans were generally puzzling, but not quite this… vexing and intriguing.
You could just admit you want to fuck him, Barkus said.
I have no interest in humans.
You're a liar. You very much want to fuck this one, especially after you saw the tattoos.
"Pink is confused, right?" Tevra asked. "A courser, if that's what the confusion is about, is a horse bred specifically for speed. As opposed to a destrier, which is trained for battle, and others that are trained to haul or work in fields."
Najlah rumbled in acknowledgement. Dragons had no need for such things. He'd eaten a horse, once, when the stupid thing had gotten lost in the desert and was too starved and thirsty to be saved. Hadn't been very good meat, though that could be because of the aforementioned starvation.
Barkus snorted. "Horse meat is all right, but humans generally only eat it as a last, desperate resort. Horses are too expensive and useful in other ways to waste them on eating."