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“Do you… ah, need to eat? I mean, to live?”

“No. Eating is optional. Sometimes I do it for the sensory experience of food itself. Most often I eat because of the social aspects of meal-sharing.”

“The social aspects.” She took a sip of wine. “Yes. I see that. Communal sustenance. Did we talk about dessert?”

“Tangerine slices?” he teased.

She looked down at the table. The tangerine slices did appear to be ripe to perfection. She grabbed one, popped it into her mouth, and enjoyed the tingle when citrus invaded her nose.

“Really good. But a meal like this begs for a chocolate finish.”

A crystal dish appeared with mocha almond fudge ice cream topped with chocolate syrup.

“Chocolate finish for the lady,” he said.

“How could anyone in their right mind choose tangerines over this?” she teased.

“I’m trying to avoid scurvy.”

“Very funny. But seriously, you get the royal prize for dinner.”

“Does it come with brass horns, regalia, and a medal with a wide ribbon?”

She paused and looked serious. “It could. Do you want those things?”

He laughed, having never expected her to think he was serious. “Not at all. The best reward is seeing you so thoroughly enjoy this food.”

“You’re very easy to please.”

“Hmmm. Well, I’m certain that’s the first time I’ve heard that. I didn’t know I could be easy to please. Are you easy to please?”

She shook her head, but said, “You please me.”

“I hope to do more of that.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Seeing your rank rise among the fae queens.”

“Still maintaining that’s doable?”

“Since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve spent every possible moment at your court hoping to get a glimpse of you, if not an audience. Until recently, I haven’t seen much of you, but I have learned a lot about fae society simply by hanging around and eavesdropping. Your people love to gossip.”

Ilmr laughed. “They do. So you’ve been spying? I need to be more careful about who’s ‘hanging around’.”

“Maybe. I’ve learned many, many things. Most unhelpful. Some useful.”

Ilmr looked intrigued. “I can’t wait to hear this. Tell me!”

“Well, speaking of gossip, Maeve’s older son is now king.”

“I know that.”

“She also has a younger son named Niall who’s character is questionable. Even for a spoiled prince.”

“The one sentenced to exile because of the thing with the kelpie?”

Ilmr had been in court that day and had been paying attention, as had most fae nobles since it was the new magistrate’s first day presiding. All were eager to see if she’d have the gall to discipline a prince.

“Yes. His time in Scotia has come to an end, but the boy is unchanged.”

“Uh-huh.” Ilmr failed to see what this might have to do with her and was, therefore, somewhat less interested in the topic.

“Maeve’s older son, the king, and daughter-in-law are having a first baby. Any time now. And Maeve has procured a dragon egg. It’s purported to be the last one.”

Ilmr scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Every dragon egg found is purported to be the last one.”

Vidar smiled. “True. Or so I’m told.”

“What does that have to do with my rank?”

“Be patient. I’m getting there. The dragon egg is a gift for the baby.”

Ilmr’s eyes widened. Scandinavian fae are not cat or dragon people. “She’s giving her granddaughter a dragon.”

Vidar nodded. “Apparently Maeve has had a pet dragon since she was a child.”

“Really?”

Vidar nodded again. “The creature is quite old now, but I heard it spends its time atop the tallest turret of her castle so that it can keep watch from sea to sea. Some say the aforementioned turret is not tall enough to support that claim, but people repeat it anyway.”

“Typical.”

“Quite. It’s the same in Asgard.”

Ilmr chuckled. “So, it might be said that we fae are godlike?”

“When it comes to gossip? Yes.”

“Tell me more.”

“Well, you know that one of my powers is communicating with all manner of beasts. They will do my bidding.” Ilmr sat up straight, beginning to understand where this was going. “I was thinking that I might befriend Niall and be invited to court.”

“And there you would talk to the young dragon? Once it’s hatched?”

Vidar smiled, feeling pleased that the female with whom he’d chosen to spend time was quick-witted. “There are few creatures who can control a dragon bent on destruction. Even a small one.”

“If it hatches.”

“I have a feeling.”

“If word got out that Maeve couldn’t control a dragon she gave her infant granddaughter, her standing would sink fast.”

With a wide grin, Vidar said, “Exactly. You’re quick.”

Feeling the joyful abandon of a young girl, Ilmr threw herself backward onto the couch and laughed long and loud. “And you are a genius. Brilliant. Brilliant. You are brilliant, my love.”

“Am I your love, Ilmr?”

Her laughter subsided. “How could I not be bewitched by your beauty, your special ways in bed, and your gift of a plan to raise my rank while the mighty Maeve falls?” She came to sit close enough to Vidar to initiate a long, slow kiss that held the promise of a long, slow coitus in front of a roaring fire.

When she pulled back, she asked, “What could go wrong?” Vidar sighed.

“You said there are few creatures who can subdue a distressed dragon? That means there are some.”

“Well, aside from gods, whom I assure you have no interest in such things, there’s only one in this dimension.”

Vidar watched Ilmr’s expression change from curiosity to recognition.

“Sephalion,” she said.

“Yes. One of them, the court enforcer, is also husband to the magistrate.”

“Who happens to be the other grandmother. Is that a problem?”

“Could be. But chances are that we will have caused problems enough to damage Maeve’s reputation before the enforcer can step in and contain the creature.”

The demigod of the north decided that silence was prudence and that adding more worries would only ruin the mood of the evening.

What he kept to himself was that, if Maeve ever discovered the plot, she would wage war on Ilmr. The fae had enjoyed peace for longer than humans had kept written records, but that didn’t mean it was permanent.

War is always abominable, but the possibility is ever-present and when fae war, the horror is unimaginable.

In that event, the English and Scotia fae would join the Irish, and everyone else would look the other way, declaring neutrality.

In other words, Maeve would win and have Ilmr tortured for eternity.

Naturally, Vidar wouldn’t be captured. He’d simply return home, and that would be that.

He’d miss Ilmr for a while. But he’d get over it.

Telling the queen all the details of the risk and that she, alone, bore the burden of that risk didn’t fit in with his goals for a romantic evening. So, he smiled and fed her another dessert.