“Oh, my lovely boy,” a female voice said.

It was not the queen’s, though it was familiar. He had heard it before. But where? She did not provide him another opportunity to figure it out for some time. She stayed silent. At first Delivegu stood stiff and breathed carefully and barely moved at all, but as the minutes passed he relaxed.

She’ll leave soon. She’ll leave soon.

Later still, he thought, I hope she doesn’t fall asleep.

She did not. Every now and then, he could hear just enough faint noise to indicate movement, a creak of weight on the bed, breath inhaled through the nose and expelled as a gust through the mouth. He imagined her stroking the boy’s hand, gazing down into his face, concerned. Reasonable enough. He still wished he knew who the woman was. A suitor, perhaps? Did a boy so young have suitors?

Well, he is a prince, Delivegu mused. Probably has a gaggle of suitors. The lad is handsome, as well. Prince, I hope you know how to use those good looks in the years to come. Had I your title … Oh, the damage I’d have done to the nation’s virgins. Hardly bears thinking about …

The woman spoke. He heard her clearly enough, and lost interest just as quickly. She was saying emotional, womanly things about how good the boy was and how the dragon creature had loved him. He listened with half his attention, until she said something that pulled him back.

“I have something to tell you about Elya.”

With that he placed the voice. Princess Mena, she who had ridden in on that dragon creature, slipped off, and spoken so casually to the queen.

“You can’t tell anybody. You have to promise. I mean it. Promise.”

Silence for a moment. Delivegu had half a mind to step out from behind the curtain and point out that the boy was unconscious. If you wait for a response, you might be there awhile, Princess.

“Okay. Since you promise …” A few more words slipped by without taking shape, and then, “You can’t even tell your mother.”

Delivegu perked up.

“She wouldn’t understand. She—well, it’s not easy bearing her responsibilities. It makes one hard, skeptical, always looking for the ill that hides beneath any good. Sometimes I think that the more you look, the more you find. The more you look, the more you create the things you most fear.”

The princess said something else under her breath. She must have looked down and cursed into her hand, not liking the direction of her own words. Delivegu was already calculating the value of what he had heard. A bit of criticism spoken to an unconscious boy? Value: naught. Give us something more, he thought.

“This is only for you to know,” Mena said. “Elya has laid eggs. Four of them. Oh, you would so love to hold them. And you will. Once you’re better, you’ll come to my quarters and I’ll show you them.”