Dragon Kin

24

Alicja

A server came forward and put a silver dish down, a sort of half-shell bowl. Inside was a chocolate mousse, with a beautiful strawberry, sliced and arranged on top into a flower. It was very yummy looking, but my stomach was soured.

I was going to mess this up and get Victor into trouble. I knew I was. I had no idea what might be good or bad to say.

The meal was wonderful.

I tried the wine, and it was tasty. I wasn't much of a wine drinker. This was cold, but red, and Uncle Max didn't seem to be the kind of man who would make a mistake like that — serving it with chicken as well. But it was delicious. So perhaps it was a cross-over thing.

He was spooning what looked like a dish of sherbet.

What did I think of Victor's reason for crossing over?

Well, "He came over to find the ones responsible for killing his father, didn't he? I thought he told that to people here."

"Yes, he did say he was going to find them, and bring them back for trial," Uncle Max agreed.

"And you don't believe that was a good enough reason?" I asked.

He paused and then tasted his sherbet again. "Not for a king," he replied.

"And was he?" I asked.

He glanced at me, from under those thick eyebrows through those slits of wrinkled eyelids. "No, I suppose he wasn't."

"You found being Regent a chore?" I asked.

He shook his head, "No, no I haven't. I've complained enough, certainly, but honestly it hasn't been much of a burden."

"So, your actions have been to 'standing orders' as well. You ordered him returned, because that was the way of things," I surmised.

He sat back, "For the most part, probably."

"Well," I said, after a long breath, "I don't know your traditions or laws, so I can't speak to that part. I can't say if it was a moral or ethical act. I can say, I believe it was his to do, if it was to be done. I believe his reasons for wishing it done are valid, still. And the way he wished it to be done: sensible, sane and thinking for the greater good, rather than his personal vendetta."

"How does it serve the common good?" he asked, his voice rougher than it had been to this point.

"I didn't say it did," I told him. "I said his thinking was for the greater good. He didn't want it to be about him. The man was his father, yes, but he was also king. King of these people. For a very long time, I've been led to believe."

He nodded, but didn't look up as he began tasting from his sherbet bowl again.

"He wanted these people to be a part of the justice that was due. Not to hear about it, but to be there when it was done."

He took several tastes before he said, "You believe that?"

I thought about it for a moment, and then nodded my head, "I have no reason to doubt him. I don't know him that well."

He shrugged in a way that conveyed the point was recognized. "His father was king for nearly four hundred years."

I adjusted myself in the chair, "How long do your people live?"

"The people? Maybe a hundred and twenty years, give or take for life practices and disease. But dragons can live much longer, especially if they get past the madness."