“And I expect you’ll have those outhouses so clean they’ll sparkle and smell like flowers.”
“But I— Yes, Dominus.” She nodded unhappily and turned and stalked off, leaving the courtyard. The rest of the group followed her, casting resentful looks at Cadence, except for Phoebe and a couple of the younger dragonlings, who waved shyly at her as they trailed after the adults.
Cadence stood up and shook her head.
“Can I talk to you, Orion?” she said.
They walked into the castle. “Orion, you can’t punish people into liking me,” she said. “I get it, we’re different types of dragons and there is a long, terrible history with my family.”
“They’re coming around,” Orion protested. “The serving staff have been talking about how courteous you are, and several of my family members said that – well – er – you weren’t what they had expected at all. They said that you were quite warm, in fact. For them, that’s a compliment.”
“But keeping me here may turn your clan against you,” she said.
“No, actually, the fact that your father’s clan is demanding I turn you over and I’m refusing is winning me a lot of points. Don’t worry so much. Let’s go into town and I’ll buy you lunch.”
His limousine driver, Frederick, was already waiting for them in front of the castle. They climbed into the cavernous back seat and he drove them towards Lyndvale.
She reached over to turn up the air conditioning on her side of the car. He snorted as he reached over and turned up the heat.
“Hmmph,” she grumbled as they drove. “Wimp. Can I knit you a sweater?”
“That was cold,” Orion said.
“That was terrible,” Cadence said. “Pungent, one might even say.”
In response, he turned the temperature up a notch.
She rolled down the window. “Good thing we don’t actually plan on mating. You’re far too hot-blooded.”
Once Frederick dropped them off on the main street, though, she had to admit that Lyndvale was enchanting. Cobblestone streets, brick buildings, and old-fashioned streetlamps gave it a turn-of-the-century air. Stores had big wooden signs hanging out front, with hand-painted lettering.
Hanging from many of the streetlamps were banners for an upcoming Festival of Fire and Ice. There were pictures of an ice dragon and fire dragon facing each other, drawn in a medieval style. They were blasting fire and ice at each other respectively.
“So what will they have at the festival?” she asked as they strolled down the street together.
“Well, it’s the first time we’re holding this festival. There will be food and drink prepared by dragons, an ice-sculpture village and ice-sculpting competition, fire dancers, dragon rides, lots of booths with dragon tooth and dragon scale jewelry.”
“That actually sounds amazing,” Cadence said.
Orion looked unconvinced. “In theory, yes,” he said. “Supposed to bring in more visitors and also to improve dragon-human relations. It’s going to draw tons of tourists, which is a major industry for this town. The Dragon Elders were hoping it would draw the clans together, having to work on a project like this. It’s really hard to get fire and ice dragons to work together, though. The planning committee is fighting constantly.”
“Ooh, look, a tourist booth,” she said. The booth was, of course, shaped like a dragon’s head. It was divided into two sections, with a partition between them.
The left side of the booth was occupied by a female ice dragon with a dragon-shaped name tag identifying her as Darlene, and the right side was occupied by a female fire dragon whose name tag identified her as Laetitia. Both women looked to be in their sixties, although they were undoubtedly much older. Laetitia had her hair piled in a big beehive, and Darlene’s hair was done in a sixties-style flip, with a broad lime-green headband.
They each had baskets of brochures sitting next to jars of dragon-shaped lollipops. Laetitia’s advertised South Lyndvale, and Darlene’s advertised North Lyndvale.
“Hello, Dominus Orion,” Laetitia said, nodding respectfully. “I see you’ve brought a guest. Welcome! First time in town?” she added to Cadence. “You’ll want to head south. There’s a wonderful fire show that starts in about half an hour, and the Fatted Calf restaurant is second to none.”
“Oh, but what you’ll really want to see is the live ice-sculpting show,” Darlene the ice dragon interjected. “And the best home-made ice cream and slushees you’ll ever taste.”
Laetitia glared at her, and then coughed and “accidentally” set fire to several of the ice dragon’s brochures. “Sorry, I must be catching a cold. Probably proximity to ice dragons. So unhealthy.”