Ravenna looked around, then smiled. “It’s been so long since we’ve had visitors. I haven’t been courteous at all. Tea, anyone?”

“Oh, of course. We’re the ones who barged in,” Elly replied apologetically.

“No, no. I told my baby boy to drop by anytime and bring his friends. I’ll take responsibility for not being a good host!” Ravenna replied, laughing lightly.

“Unfortunately, we’ve failed to be guests. We haven’t brought a gift with us,” Elly said, shaking her head.

Ravenna laughed. “No need! You’re friends of Gideon. That’s gift enough.”

No kidding. It’s nontrival to hang around Gideon—wait. Jet frowned. “Why is the True Dragon sending assassins after Gideon? You never—”

“That can wait until after tea,” Ravenna said firmly, shooting him a look.

“Naturally.” Elly also shot Jet a look that asked, do you even know manners?

Taken aback, Jet put his hands up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Ravennal laughed lightly and gestured them on. “Come along, come along. George!”

A form materialized from shadow before them, the same grizzled gatekeeper they’d encountered at the gate.

Jet jumped, instinctively reaching for his sword before he forcibly stopped himself from drawing it. She’s a dragon, of course she has monster servants. I’d be more surprised if she had human servants!

I wonder what kind of monster he is. Another dragon? That’s most likely… though I wonder, how many other monsters have human forms?

“George, could you prepare the tea, please?” Ravenna asked.

George ducked his head. “Milady, the vizier is at the back gate.”

Ravenna narrowed her eyes. “Again? I told him just last week, double the security on the ball… what’s he want now?”

“Dietrich insists there is no danger, and that the ball must be held outside, I believe,” George replied.

“Dietrich?” Jet murmured. That’s the first prince’s name… it couldn’t be… could it?

Ravenna sighed. “If they’re this stupid, should we swap to backing the second prince, instead? The first prince is adorably straightforward and manipulatable, but… he’s lacking in the brains department.”

“Milady.” George ducked his head again.

“No, no, don’t take that as an order. We’ll continue to back the first prince for now. Hmm, tell the vizier that my advice hasn’t changed and send him away. If they all die, that’s their problem, not mine. The second prince is a perfectly competent replacement,” Ravenna said, waving her hand lightly.

George nodded.

“Then, the tea?” she suggested.

“Milady.” George vanished into the shadow from whence he’d came.

Jet stared. “Did… did you just… discuss who you’d have inherit the throne?” More importantly, is having tea with your son’s friends more important than who you’re setting up to inherit the throne? No, no, her setting up someone to inherit the throne is the first problem! A dragon, deciding the human kingdom—

“Over tea,” Ravenna said coyly. She glanced at Jet. “Though I suppose I wouldn’t mind arranging for a friend of Gideon’s to take the crown. Taking down that commander of yours would be a good first step. He’s less popular than you think.”

“Gideon suggested that, too,” Jet muttered darkly.

Ravenna’s eyes sparkled. “How adorable! He’s taking after his mother after all. I knew it. He couldn’t resist the pull of his blood. Ah, I wonder if we can chat about the imperial succession line of the Abeline Empire next door over tea. I’ve been looking for someone who understands the intricacies of the imperial succession with their ceremonial wives and fifteen heirs…”

“You… what?” Jet asked, taken aback.

“Human politics are something of a hobby for me,” Ravenna replied, striding ahead. The three of them followed her, Jet flabbergasted, Elly with a polite smile, and Leo bored, hands behind his head.

“A hobby?” Jet repeated.

She gave him a little smile. “Dragons are so terribly boring. Do you know how we decide our king? Might. Strength is all that matters. Naturally, one’s bloodline generally succeeds the throne, but anyone can challenge the heir to an inheritance battle at any point. It’s not as if there are no politics… plenty of alliances go on behind the battles, to ensure the heir or the challenger are weakened, to make sure certain dragons never dare challenge the heir, to create allied blocks who agree to acknowledge a king whether they’re the strongest or not… but in the end, any old rogue can rush up to the king and force them to battle. So boring!

“You humans, on the other hand… creating entire systems to suppress whole categories of people, using social links to make the strongest men bow and desperately beg allegiance to the weakest, having entire kingdoms where the king is no more than a figurehead or where a fat, lazy merchant can rise to such prominence as to be untouchable… nay, even held up as an idol for the people! How fascinating. I can never get enough. For a very long time, I’ve been enamored with humans.”

“And… and you’ve been… running our kingdom from behind the scenes?” Jet guessed, grasping at straws.

Ravenna smiled enigmatically. “Oh dear, I wouldn’t dare make such a bold claim. I provide guidance and suggestions to the vizier… or the king, or the king’s aunt, uncle, cousin, or lover. What they do with those suggestions… well, little old me, a poor widow living alone, couldn’t possibly know.”

“But… you’re a dragon. How can they not notice you… not aging?” Jet asked, still lost.

“They meet George, not me. I am a mystery, an enigma… they focus all their attention on me, and my disguises, and the fact that I meet them in a dark room, or from behind a curtain. No one pays attention to the groundskeeper. Every so often, he dyes his hair a new color, changes his makeup, and becomes a new groundskeep.” Amused, Ravenna shook her head.

“And no one finds it strange that generations upon generations keep coming to the same manor?” Jet tried.

Ravenna raised her eyebrows. “Naturally, I can move.”

Jet blinked. After a second, he rolled his eyes at himself. Well… yes. I don’t know what to say.

“But I haven’t had to. If you had someone who knew things no one else could, who could guide you unfailingly in the right direction, who could make enemies mysteriously disappear… would you go around telling everyone about them? Every generation discovers me on their own,” Ravenna declared.

“And if they don’t?”

“Then we create a… reason for them to discover us. Isn’t that right, George?” Ravenna asked.

“Milady,” George replied from behind them. He carried a silver platter laden with tea and treats.

Jet startled. When did he get back there?

“The parlor, George. And…” Ravenna held her hand out.

The wall crashed in. A green dragon rushed toward Ravenna, snarling madly. At the sight of Ravenna, the dragon spread its wings wide and desperately backpedaled, but too late. It rushed toward Ravenna.

Seconds before it hit, Ravenna’s hand turned into a white claw and closed around the dragon’s neck. Her eyes flashed blue. “You… are not a friend of Gideon’s.”

“Milady, I’m sorry, milady, I didn’t know—” Kat’s voice burbled from the green dragon.

“Kat?” Elly asked, startled.

“No excuses.” Ravenna closed her claw.

Kat screamed. Blood spurted.

Ravenna sighed and dropped the dragon. She wiped her hand on the rug. “George, when you finish with the tea, take that little one to the dungeon, hmm? I think I have a few questions for her, yet.”

“Milady,” George replied, stepping out of the shadow behind Ravenna.

A second later, a black dragon slammed into the wall and jutted its head inside. At the sight of Ravenna, the dragon’s golden eyes widened. It immediately turned about-face and went to flee.

Ravenna leaped out of the hole in the wall and transformed midair. Twice as large as the black dragon, she stretched out a claw and easily slammed the black dragon to the floor. Leaning her weight on his back, she pinned him to the ground. He struggled half-heartedly, as if he was already defeated.

Blue eyes narrowed at the black dragon. Ravenna murmured, “Why didn’t you attack?”

“Another assassin?” Jet asked.

The other dragon grit his teeth. A gratingly familiar voice emanated from its throat. “I don’t want to die yet.”

“Gideon?” Elly said, startled.

Jet whirled. Gideon?

Ravenna tutted. “As if. You could hold your own against me for ten minutes when you were half your age. I refuse to believe you’d die so easily now.”

“I’ve grown weak with age,” Gideon replied, voice grave.

Ravenna laughed, an odd, growling sound. “You, old? Come again in another millennia, boy.”

The realization struck Jet like a lead ball to his gut. Gideon’s going to live for millennia? His eyes widened as the full implications struck him. He staggered back, face white. Shit. Gideon’s going to live for millennia. This whole world is fucked.

She released her pin, stepping back. “I won’t fight you while you’re holding a friend. That wouldn’t be fair to her.”

Eh? A friend? Jet squinted, and made out Angel tucked in the nook of one of Gideon’s forearms. Green-faced, she put a hand to Gideon’s claw and another to her mouth, and visibly swallowed back her puke.

Gideon made a disgusted face and set her down, far away from him. Angel shot a dirty look back, but doubled up in the middle and ran to puke in some nearby bushes.

Ravenna reverted to human form with a swirl of white scales. She clapped her hands and beamed at the group, ignoring the puking Angel, the stricken Jet, and the uncharacteristically-silent Gideon. “Now that everyone’s together, shall we have that tea?”