Cimorene found a rock and sat on it. Kazul settled into a more restful position, folded her wings neatly along her back, and began. “It has to do with status. Dragons aren’t required to have princesses, you see. Most of us don’t. There are never enough to go around, and some of us prefer not to have to deal with the annoyances that come with them.”

“Knights,” Cimorene guessed.

“Among other things,” Kazul said, nodding. “So having a princess in residence has become a minor mark of high status among dragons.”

“A minor mark?”

Kazul smiled. “I’m afraid so. It’s the equivalent of, oh, serving expensive imported fruit at dinner. It’s a nice way of showing everyone how rich you are, but you could make just as big an impression by having some of those fancy pastries with the smooth glazed icing and spun-sugar roses.”

“I see.” Cimorene did see, though she found herself wishing that Kazul had found something else to compare it to. The talk of dinner reminded her too much of Moranz’s repeated desire to eat her.

“Moranz is young and not very bright, I’m afraid,” Kazul said, almost as if she had read Cimorene’s mind. “He seems to have the mistaken impression that if a princess behaves badly, it reflects on the dragon who captured her. Possibly it comes from his inability to keep any of his own princesses for more than a week. Some of the lesser dragons were very snide about it when he lost his third one in a row. I believe she sneaked out while he was napping.”

“I don’t see how he can blame his princesses,” Cim­orene objected. “I mean, if most princesses are unwilling, it must be fairly usual for them to try to get away.”

“Of course, but Moranz doesn’t see it that way. He’s been trying to catch someone else’s princess in a similar foolishness for years, and he’s quite sure he’s finally done so. He’s undoubtedly spreading the story of your escape far and wide at this very minute.”

“Oh, dear,” said Cimorene.

Kazul smiled again, and her teeth glittered silver in the lamplight. “He’ll look extremely foolish when it becomes obvious that you’re still here. Which is one reason I’ve asked a few of my friends to dinner tonight.”

“You’ve what?” Cimorene said. All her worries about Moranz were instantly replaced by worries about fixing dinner on short notice for an unknown number of dragons. “How many? What time will they be here? Where are we going to put them all?”

“Six. Around eight-thirty. In the banquet cave. And you won’t be doing anything but dessert. I’ve already arranged for the rest of the meal.”

“Arranged? With whom?”