The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

important until now. Customs might be different in her land. Some societies didn’t value virginity. Coronnan seemed strangely ambivalent on the subject. Festival in the more remote regions initiated youngsters into the joy of sex by the age of twelve or fourteen. A population depleted by war made the begetting of children more important than virginity at marriage. Noble lords sheltered their offspring, enforcing sexual innocence, to artificially inflate their value in the marriage market—insuring there were no bastard children to claim titles and lands.
    Quinnault had refrained from joining with a woman throughout his teenage years while he studied for the celibate priesthood. Once he assumed the leadership of his family and responsibility for his lands he indulged in the random partnering of Festival, but so far had not found a woman he was willing to repeat the experience with.
    Somehow, he knew that life with Katie would be different. With her in his bed, he wouldn’t need to think about any other woman.
    “Uh . . .” he heard himself make noises, but he’d forgotten what she said in his speculation about the wedding night to come.
    If the dragons found her worthy.
    If the Council accepted the decision of the dragons.
    “I know how to block illusions if I have to, but I suppose that would be impolitic,” she repeated.
    “The dragons are not delusions cast by the magicians, Katie. They are real. They are wise. And they won’t hurt you, no matter how frightening they are the first time you encounter one. I remember the day they arrived at the School for Magicians. I thought my heart would stop beating before they ate me.” He almost smiled in memory of that fateful day when magic in Coronnan changed for all time. “Now I know better. Dragons are meat eaters, but they don’t like the taste of humans. And they like their meals cooked. Why else were they blessed with fiery breath?” He grinned, trying to relieve her fears.
    “Your magicians must be very good indeed, to fool the entire populace.” She smiled and tucked her little hand into the crook of his elbow. “Come. Your ‘dragons’ await us. Or should I say, the Council and the magicians await us.”
    “Katie,” Quinnault said as he halted in mid-step. “You have to understand the dragons are real, now, before you see them and run away screaming in fear.”
    “Princesses from Terra—Terrania—are made of sterner stuff than you think. I have faced worse terrors than an illusory dragon.” Impatience crossed her face, erasing the humor that normally danced across her features.
    Suddenly, Quinnault feared for her life as well as their future—more so than when he wrestled Piedro into submission. Dragons had made a pact never to willfully harm a human so long as humans did no harm to the dragons and offered the tithe of Tambootie and livestock to the creatures. Shayla had announced the end of the Compact more than three weeks ago when Myrilandel had disappeared.
    What if Katie, with her strange Varn powers and technology took it into her head to harm the dragon? The pact would be shattered beyond mending and communal magic would dissolve forever with the loss of the dragons. Quinnault’s reign of peace would be more effectively ended than if Piedro had succeeded last night in implicating the king in murder.
    “Your Grace,” a page greeted them as he hurried up the corridor to fetch them. “The Council awaits in the Grand Courtyard.” The boy bowed deeply, sneaking a peek at Katie as he bent his head.
    “We haven’t time to argue about the reality of dragons, Katie. Just stand still and let the dragon judge you.”
    “I don’t like the idea of being judged by an imaginary beast.” She set her jaw determinedly, an expression she had assumed when confronting her father. She’d won that argument.
    “You are as stubborn as my sister,” he muttered. “I hope you aren’t as foolish and earn the condemnation of my lords.”
    “I didn’t know you had a sister. When will I meet her?”
    “Most likely you won’t.” He clenched his teeth together, firmly closing the issue of Myrilandel and why she couldn’t be a part of his life.
    Thoughts of his brief reunion with the sister he thought had died at the age of two, brought him to Myrilandel’s husband, Nimbulan. Why had the Senior Magician of the Commune defied orders and gone in search of Myrilandel himself, without so much as a note of explanation? A younger man would have a