The Dragon's Match

VI

VI

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"I really do not have time for this," Lillian sighed, tossing the wooden tablet down on the table in front of her. The tiny, ridiculous caricature in the top right corner of the enchanted parchment seemed to leer at her provocatively and she couldn't help but feel put off the entire ordeal.

Millie reached over from the adjacent side and plucked the tablet up, perusing over the contents with a thoughtful frown. "Hmm, I can see why you would feel somewhat put out," she mused. "This is now the fourth profile making inference with regards to his enormous... uh... talent, I suppose." At the sound of her voice, her Llaelleanoid  stirred from where it was coiled about itself near the hearth and raised its slender muzzle in her direction, graceful whips of antennae quivering slightly with the movement- a massive, sleekly furred beast that Lillian had only seen once during her time in the Otherworld. Its presence unnerved her, stirred a memory she longed to keep dormant, and it still astounded her how such a creature had taken to a human mistress as it had... but, she supposed, the irregularities of the faeborn were just that- they adhered to no law or commonality.

Lillian folded her arms and reclined back into her chair, turning her attention to the prim and officious matchmaker sitting the other side of her. Addilyn Holt seemed entirely perplexed by the situation unfolding between the two sisters sharing the table with her. It was rather early, having just cleared the table of breakfast, and Lillian had finally mustered up the courage to actually meet with the woman to coordinate a suitable candidate, or candidates, to meet. Though given the extraordinarily ability of the young woman to hound one, the earliness of the hour should hardly promote her confusion.

"I was under the impression that all candidates were screened prior to being accepted," Lillian remarked dryly.

Mrs Holt pulled her lips tight in thought. "They are," she confessed slowly. "However, the initial screening is conveyed in person and a tablet relinquished into their property with which to make their respective matches. It is beyond our control to police what some of our male clients feel is important that the womenfolk know..."

"Oh my," Millie breathed, her eyes now wide on the parchment before her. She quickly snatched the abandoned pen that had been left before Lillian, tipping it against the edge of the paper with a devilish look about her. "Listen to this, Lil. A night with me will leave you unable to walk for days!"

"Millie, did you just checkmark that page!" Lillian yelped.

"He's a match! Look!"

"I swear I'll smother you in your sleep," she snapped, yanking the tablet from her fingers and planting it securely before her once more, startling a few pixies hovering mischievously over the sugar bowl nearby. She rifled over the parchment, tossing it back to find the scarce numbers imprinted unto the back of the wood. A groan tore from her throat. "Perfect. Are there any males that aren't... fascinated by the size of their equipment?"

"Sadly, no," Addilyn said with a small sound of exasperation. "But the most important thing is that you have started the process... from here we can figure out how you would like to proceed."

God, if that wasn't the most terrifying notion to ever befall her. Lillian glanced to the side and allowed her gaze to settle on the weather out the large windows that extended over one side of the opulent chamber in which they had received their break of fast. It was snowing steadily, eddies of wind allowing snowflakes to twirl and dance with a mesmerizing grace that detracted from the dismal grey weather.