Infinity

with your aunt in your stead. I think I can handle the construction workers and a meeting about the war memorial.”

“Then there’s the—”

“The briefings from everyone else can wait until you return,” Winston said.

“Exactly.” John nodded. “Now, as one of your royal advisors, I’m advising that you get out of here. Go have fun for a bit. Quit worrying about running the world and go be seventeen for a few hours. And while you’re out clearing your head, maybe you can think about the festival next week. The work will be here when you get back.”

“Festival?”

“To celebrate your birthday. We delayed it because of the peace treaty talks, but the people will want to do something. Now that the war is over, they’ll want to celebrate, and your birthday is a good reason for everyone to do that.”

“I don’t—”

“People need to see that we’re getting back to our normal lives here in Nerissette,” John said. “And celebrating our holidays is a way of doing that.”

“He’s got a point,” Winston said. “Everyone could use a good party to show them that things are safe and stable again.”

“Besides,” John said. “It’s tradition to hold a festival to celebrate the Golden Rose’s birthday. Before the Fate Maker’s reign, the festival for the Rose’s birthday lasted a week each year. Some of the happiest memories of my own childhood, those festivals were. I won my first archery contest at one when I was only eleven years old. Your grandmother’s fiftieth birthday.”

“Right.” I tried not to sound disappointed that the only reason my absentee dad wanted to hold a birthday party for me was because there was a shooting tournament attached to it.

“Now, go on.” He nudged me toward Winston. “Leave the responsibilities of running this place to me. I can handle it.”

“Okay,” I said, grudgingly conceding the point that John of Leavenwald could probably do my job better than I could while standing on his head.

“When I get back, we’ll go over everything again,” I said as Winston started to lead me away.

“Of course Al—Your Majesty.” John nodded at me, and I could see the side of his mouth twitching upward in an indulgent smile.

“Oh, and Prince Winston?” John called out as Win started to tug me away. We both stopped to look back at him.

“Yes?” Win asked.

“Have we ever talked about sparrow hunting before?” John of Leavenwald said evenly, his face blank.

“No…” Winston shook his head, a confused look on his face. “Do you want to talk about sparrow hunting?”

“Not really.” John smiled at him, but his eyes were still flat and emotionless. “I just thought I’d mention how good I am at sparrow hunting. I can kill a bird on the wing no bigger than your dew claw from over a thousand paces.”

“That’s—” Winston’s voice cracked, and he coughed, trying to clear his throat. “Rather amazing, sir. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. Now, like I was saying about the sparrow hunting,” John said smoothly, as if Winston hadn’t even opened his mouth. “I can kill a bird on the wing from a thousand paces, so just imagine what I could do given a larger target.”

Winston’s ebony face drained of blood, and I felt his hand begin to tremble in mine.

“John!” I snapped. What made him think he had the right to threaten Winston? He hadn’t been around for years, and now he was just going to start making trouble with one of my friends? With my boyfriend? Like Winston and I weren’t already having enough problems with him being gone all the time and the war and everything else?

“Allie.” Winston squeezed my fingers and gave me a pointed look. “It’s fine.”

“No it’s—”

“Have a good flight,” John of Leavenwald said before turning on his heel and walking back toward the remains of my palace.

“Wait a second.” I started toward him, but Winston kept his hand in mine, holding me close. “You can’t just—”

“Allie,” Winston said as we made our way down the stairs. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. John just threatened you. You’re the Prince Consort. He doesn’t have the—”

“He’s your father,” Winston said, tugging me closer and then letting go of my hand. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders instead and pressed a kiss against the side of my head, just above my ear. “He has every right. Threatening your boyfriends is part of his job. Besides, it could have been worse.”

“Worse?” I leaned my head on his shoulder, and we started to meander toward the aerie. “How could that have been worse? He basically threatened to shoot you.”

“When we were back in Bethel Park, my uncle Carl pulled a gun on my cousin Amelie’s first boyfriend,” Winston said.

“What?”

“The poor kid wet himself and then ran off down the street. Amelie didn’t go out with anyone else until she was in college. All the boys were too afraid to come around to pick her up.”

“I bet she was furious.” I snickered at the thought of Winston’s portly Uncle Carl, with his sweater vests and wire-rimmed glasses, holding a gun on anyone. “Was it even a real gun?”

“Of course it was a real gun. Dad wouldn’t have given him a fake gun. That would have been beside the point.”

“Your dad gave your uncle a gun so he could scare off your cousin’s boyfriend? Isn’t that, I don’t know, against Marine Corps regulations or something? Not to mention being dangerous.”

“Uncle Carl wasn’t actually going to shoot the guy,” Winston said. “I mean, yeah, probably still not a good idea, but it did keep Amelie from dating, so I guess they figured it was worth Dad possibly getting court-martialed over it.”

“I bet Amelie didn’t agree.”

“Well, aren’t you glad your dad didn’t do that? He could have actually pulled out a bow and pointed it at me. Or shot me—by mistake, of course. There’s no one here that would actually stop him. Even the dragons would have understood the ‘Dad protecting his long-lost daughter from going out with her boyfriend’ defense.”

“Yeah,” I said as he let his arm slip away from my waist once we reached the clearing with the tall, stone tower where the dragon’s had built their aerie. “I guess he could be worse.”

“He could definitely be worse,” Winston said.

“Whatever happened to the guy Amelie was trying to date?” I asked. “After he ran away, I mean?”

“He ended up becoming the grade-school choir teacher. Now keep your back turned, and I’ll be right back.”

I felt my face flame, and I closed my eyes tight, trying to ignore the sounds of my boyfriend stripping all his clothes off so that he could shift from human to dragon without destroying anything in the process.

I heard the thunk of his sword belt landing next to his boots, and then there was a sharp crackling sound. Suddenly it felt like I was standing with my back to a bonfire. When I couldn’t stand it any longer I spun around, my own green tunic flaring around my waist and my long brown hair whipping against my face. It tangled in the vines and thorns that decorated the crown I’d taken to wearing pretty much all the time now, and I tried to calm it. But, there, only a few feet in front of me, Winston, in full dragon form, arched up on his enormous back legs and flapped his wide, pitch-black wings, his claws so close I could almost touch them.

Winston threw his head back, and I watched as smoke curled out of his muzzle before he let out a quiet roar. Well, quiet for a dragon anyway. The black flames burned hotter, and Winston stood up on his hind legs, his wings beating faster now, and opened his mouth again, letting out a small burst of fire that he promptly swallowed before it could light anything accidentally. I watched, sort of sickeningly fascinated, as he sucked in the black