Page 74 of Nine-Tenths

The next ring is filled with three rows of intricately decorated benches.

They're empty on our side, but filled with Simcoe's supporters on his.

The final ring consists of balconies looming over our heads, broken up with the high, arched windows of the palace, and lined with rows of raked seats.

They are absolutely packed with dragons in elaborate circlets and tiaras, and Favorites bedecked with jeweled tokens.

I spin the ring on my pinkie, taking comfort in its protection, for all that I resent it means I'm owned.

Amid Simcoe's back-bench supporters is Laura Secord.

She's subdued, the warm and generous woman I first met now dampened.

The rest of the Favorites spark and shine, but even her clothing is muted, without any jewels, any metallic thread, any crystal.

She doesn't indicate that she's seen me.

She just sits there, stone-still, looking as tremulously furious as I feel.

The queen raises her hand, and the room goes silent.

"We are gathered to discuss the conduct of the Marquess Niagara, Alva-draig Tudor, seated before me thus.

" She cuts her palm in our direction, and Dav actually flinches.

I reach out, under the table, and link our pinkies.

"The Right Honourable Lieutenant Governor Lord Francis-dragoun Simcoe has leveled against him serious charges of territory mismanagement, and of breaking our most strongly-held taboos.

The charge-sheet has already been read before the court. "

Dav blanches. Laura flinches like she's been hit. Simcoe rises to his feet victoriously, holding a long roll of illuminated parchment aloft like the head of a conquered warlord. I want to punch him in the nose.

"However," the queen continues, before Simcoe can speak.

"It has come to my attention that the Marquess’ behavior has not been so dire as it has been painted by Lord Simcoe.

In lieu of a sentencing, the esteemed honored peers gathered here will instead have the pleasure of first being made privy to the scientific research the Marquess and his Favorite have commissioned. "

" What ," Simcoe hisses. He crumples the paper in his fist.

I turn to Dav, just to make sure I heard what I think I heard. He's looking at me with what I'd bet dollars-to-donuts is a matching expression of wide-eyed surprise.

"I beg your pardon, Ma'am…?" he asks.

"You have the floor, Lord Niagara."

"Your Majesty, the labor!" Simcoe splutters. "The interference! He went over your head to the Scottish King!"

I jump to my feet. "We were invited to visit my aunt, who is Collected and is part of His Majesty’s hoard."

"You deliberately disrespected the queen's desire that you not speak about—"

" My desire, Lord Simcoe?" the queen interrupts him, and he flinches to a stop.

Laura's mouth tightens, but otherwise she doesn't react. I can't tell if she's more embarrassed by him, or by being associated with him, but she's definitely humiliated.

"As relayed through your advisers, Ma'am," Simcoe adds apologetically.

"Advisers that you, in turn, advised yourself," a dragon to the queen's right says, standing. She's clearly related to Elizabeth Regina, with the same pale complexion and serious eyes, but her hair is more brown than red, and holy shit, that's Anne Coronam Reginae.

"Ah," Simcoe prevaricates.

The crown princess leans on the railing of the royal box, elbows locked and eyes narrowed at Lt.

Gov. ThornInMySide. "Had David Beithir not informed me that he had been visited by a dissatisfied Marquess of our court, who had been denied his right to petition an audience, we should never have known the Marquess of Niagara was seeking one at all. "

A low murmur scurries around the room.

"Who are you to decide who may or may not speak with the crown?" the princess challenges.

"I was merely saving the queen the bother of—"

" I decide what is a bother to me, Lord Simcoe," the queen hisses. The princess sits, content that she's tightened the screws. "You seem to be in need of this reminder quite often, today."

"Apologies, Ma'am," Simcoe says with a bow.

One of the dragons clustered around his table murmurs something to him as he straightens, smirk back in place.

"But we all know that the rules about laboring for humans are a necessary evil.

The population of humans is simply too large to sustain, and we—"

"That's Malthusian bull-shiii-crap!" I break in. "There's more than enough land, and food, and water for every living thing on this planet, Ma'am. The issue is mismanagement ."

Simcoe bristles. "You have no right to interrupt me, your voice is worthless in this chamber—"

"Then I'm sure the paparazzi that must be hanging around in the bushes would love to put a microphone in front of me," I throw at him. "Do you have the ones on this side of the pond leashed, I wonder?"

Another round of shocked quiet filters through the room, only to be followed by the sound of the queen's amused chuckling.

"You were not wrong when you called him idealistic to the point of stubbornness, little drake," the queen says with an intimate softness, directly to Dav.

"No ma'am," Dav says, punctuating it with a put-upon sigh. "I was not."

Simcoe makes a noise like an overheated teakettle. "Surely you're not seriously entertaining proposals for territory management overhauls from this human . Let your more experienced counsel review the research and provide the suggestions. I would be happy to work with—"

"No," the queen denies him. "I find I don't much trust you to have the best interests of my empire at heart."

"Ma'am, with so many missteps to Niagara’s credit, with his temper —" Simcoe tries.

" What temper, you toxic little snob?" I snap.

Dav hangs his head. "I do—"

"You don't ," I insist. "You understand that he's gaslighting you, right? Classic tactics. He’s trying to control you."

Dav blinks, stunned. "Dr. Chen suggested it, but I never thought—"

"Quiet!" Simcoe shrills, getting closer to unhinged the more he's shut down.

This is not gonna be good.

"You have no idea what you're—" Simcoe tries to backtrack, but that's it.

Laura-goddamned-war-hero-Secord has fucking had it.

She slams her hands, palm-down, on the bench. The sound claps around the stone room, dragging all eyes to her when she shoots to her feet.

"Of course he's made missteps!" she hisses at Simcoe.

"Your father gave him responsibilities and territory he was unprepared for!

And you haven't guided him because you want him to fail!

Just the same way you lied to Hino'Hohawank, you lied to the Onguiaahra, and you drove them off the land thousands of them died protecting!

Your father promised we'd respect their sovereignty, and you didn't ! "

"Laura," Simcoe says dangerously. His expression tells me that this is very old, very dirty laundry she's airing. "Now is not the time."

" No. I have been silent too long. You've never loved, never treasured me for who I am.

You only wanted to control what Alva coveted.

The march! Me! And I agreed to it because I thought I could steer you…

what a fool I was! Well, no more! I have watched both Upper Canada and this man suffer for your greed enough ," Laura says, moving into the aisle, so they can meet eye-to-eye.

"This is all on you, Frank. Everything he has mishandled was because he was too young to be given territory, and the only dragon in this room who doesn't know it is him ! "

Dav blows a harsh breath out of his nose, and smoke curls up to the ceiling. "I was fifty-six, fully of age—"

"Just barely , Alva, dear ," Laura says miserably.

"One year out of your majority, that’s so little for a dragon.

They asked too much of you , too soon. And the moment you secured the march for Canada, this scoundrel began his campaign to steal it from you.

That you continue to stay as a matter of honor, to protect the sovereignty of Onatah's territory, shows that you are ten times the man that Frank ever was. "

A furious growl rips out of Simcoe, but Laura is uncowed.

Dav's spine, if possible, gets even stiffer. His chin wobbles but I don't think anyone but me is close enough to see.

Laura throws her arms wide, and lifts her face to accuse the gallery: "You sent hundreds of dragons out into the world, into war after war, for what?

To collect a few measly acres of land into a vast empire?

A grain of sand on a beach? A drop of water in an ocean?

Meaningless . And when Alva fights to find meaning in it, you shut him down, shut him up, shut him away. You punish a child for being a child."

"Silence!" Simcoe snarls.

Laura flashes him a glare hard enough to cut diamond. "Everything good and humane happening among Alva’s hoard, between Alva and his neighbors, is due to Alva's honesty and Alva's integrity. Not yours!"

Simcoe leaps up the few steps separating them.

" Enough , woman!" he growls, grabbing her arm so hard she gasps in pain. "You be silent , or I'll—"

"You'll what ," I challenge, drawing his ire away from Laura on purpose. I've only ever met her once before, but that's humanity for you. We'll pack-bond with anyone if you give us a reason to. "You hurt her and I'll—"

"I rescind my token!" Laura shouts, yanking the black ribbon from around her neck. She throws the cameo into the middle of the pit, where it ricochets off the flagstone with an ominous ping.