Light Dragons 03 - Sparks Fly

admit to wondering if you’re intending on taking her back, Kostya. Not that it’s any of our business, but ... er ... I wondered.”
    “As did I,” I said, noting that Kostya looked as if he wanted to set fire to something. Or more likely, someone.
    To my surprise, he shot an unreadable look at me. “Why do you care? You aren’t going to try to make me believe you have any fondness for me, too, are you?”
    It took me a moment to find the words. “I have always been fond of you, Kostya, right up to the point where you killed Baltic, and then, obviously, I had a change of heart. But lately, I’ve been reminded that you weren’t entirely bad, although I could do without your breaking Baltic’s nose all over the place.”
    “Twice. I’ve broken it twice in the last few months, and he broke mine as many times, so we’re even,” Kostya protested, rubbing his nose. He stopped and squinted at me. “You want something from me, don’t you? I can tell. I can always tell when a woman wants something.”
    “Of course I want something. I want my house back.”
    Kostya took a deep breath. “Dragonwood is mine.”
    “Baltic built it for me! I designed the gardens!”
    “It belongs to the black wyvern, and thus it’s mine now,” Kostya argued. “Unless you have something of equal value you wish to exchange for it?”
    “I have money. Well, Baltic does,” I said slowly, knowing full well that all of Baltic’s resources were being funneled into the rebuilding of Dauva. Although it went against the grain to buy what truly belonged to me, perhaps Kostya could be tempted into an arrangement. “How much were you thinking of?”
    “I would not sell Dragonwood for mere money,” Kostya scoffed. “You have nothing else of value to offer?”
    “Me, personally? I have my love token.” I touched the chain around my neck, the small oval of silver that hung from it tucked warmly between my breasts. “But its value is sentimental rather than material.”
    “I wouldn’t take the love token that Baltic made for you,” he said, outrage flitting through his eyes before he added with a grin, “He almost severed his fingers engraving it.”
    “He told me it was the hardest thing he’d ever done because he doesn’t have a single artistic bone in his body,” I said, sharing a remembered moment with Kostya, my smile matching his. “He was so proud of it, though.”
    The smile faded from Kostya’s face. “You have nothing with which to bargain, then? So be it.” He held up a dismissive hand when I opened my mouth to protest his cavalier manner. “I have relinquished my rightful claim on Dauva; that is as far as I will bend, Ysolde. The matter is settled, as is the situation with Cyrene. I have called next week’s sárkány for the purpose of rescinding my statement regarding her, so after that time, she will have no formal standing either in my sept or the weyr.”
    “Kostya, you know how much that house means to me-” I started to say, getting to my feet, intending on pleading with him.
    He shot Drake a harried look, then made a formal bow to both Aisling and me. “I will see you later, Aisling. Good day, Ysolde.”
    I bit my lip as he strode off, damning him for being so obstinate. “Next time maybe I’ll save Baltic the trouble of breaking his nose and do it myself.”
    “It’s tempting sometimes, I admit,” Aisling said.
    Drake shot her a look.
    “Sorry, sweetie, but even you have to admit that sometimes when Kostya gets on his high horse, he’s impossible to take.”
    “And yet right is on his side in this,” Drake said, taking the glass of dragon’s blood wine that Aisling poured for him. “The house does belong to him.”
    “It does not-” I started to say.
    “Now, hang on here,” Aisling interrupted, suddenly looking thoughtful as she turned to me. “Ysolde, I think we’ve had a breakthrough.”
    “In what way?”
    “Who’s had a breakthrough?” May asked as she slipped into the room with a muttered apology for her twin’s scene.
    “Kostya.” Aisling eyed me speculatively.
    I frowned, confused. “I don’t see how.”
    “He offered to trade Dragonwood for something. He’s never done that before, has he?”
    “No,” I said slowly, thinking that point over. “He’s always been adamant that the house belongs to the black dragons, and as he’s the wyvern, it does. You know, I think you’re right, Aisling. I think this may well be the breakthrough I’ve been looking