“Oh dear, we don’t seem to have a priest available.” Not my best work, but I was suddenly on the spot. The incubation cavern had faded into the background of my awareness. The walls were grey blurs, but Esme was locked into sharp focus.

  “I, uh, is that really necessary?” she asked.

  Oh, thank god.

  “I believe in the old ways. Of honour and tradition.” Dargrun swung her snout between the pair of us as she examined us in turn.

  “Well, I love Bob, but I’m not sure we’re ready for that kind of commitment.”

  That kind of hurt for some reason.

  “What do you mean? We’re business partners, lovers, and you want to raise a baby dragon with me. What part of all of that means not ready?”

  She took a deep breath, breasts heaving dramatically. Focus, Bob.

  “Well, sure, but does that really mean we should get married? I mean, all of that is great. I wouldn’t want it to change.” Another shrug, followed by a soft smile. Her green eyes twinkled. “It might make things worse.”

  “Being married to me might make it worse? And of course, nothing would change between us! I’ve had beauties throw themselves at me loads of times since we got together, and I’ve brushed them all off.”

  “How many beauties?” Her voice was suddenly colder.

  “Not that many!” I raised my hands defensively. “There was… that woman von Kolbens sent, Lady Artington, Agatha de Bries… assorted barmaids and serving women… I’m not helping myself, am I?”

  “The woman who tried to kill me, and damn near did, was one of your… fan girls?” Arms were crossed. A foot was tapped.

  “Not really? Look… I hired her for a job one time.”

  “What kind of job?” The rate of foot tapping increased. I could see Dagrun glaring at me from the corner of my eye.

  “I needed to do something for Dalgliesh. Someone had to die so he could get his union thing set up.”

  “You arranged a murder?” Dagrun rumbled disapprovingly.

  “She wasn’t a nice person! Lady Foreverknot sent the army that attacked Fidler’s Mill, the one that I drove off to become the baronet. I needed to frame Hateskale for it to disrupt the anti-union lobby within the nobles. So I went to the Library, there was no way I could pull off something like that on my own.”

  “The same Hateskale who owned Longbottom, which you then took over?” Esme asked. That look was worrying. Regret had swelled into a giant wet-blanket monster in my mind, smothering Wrath and Greed. Vanity watched from one side, back pressed against the edge of my psyche.

  “Yeah. I ate him as well.” Why did I sound like a little boy caught somewhere he shouldn’t have been?

  “So you’ve rejected all these harlots because you love me?”

  I nodded firmly and smiled tentatively.

  “And they were all beautiful?”

  I recognised this as a trap. Thank you, Admiral Ackbar.

  “They were nothing compared to you! You saw Joanna Kolbens, or whatever her name was. She was pretty, sure. Beautiful even, but standing next to you, she just looked plain.”

  “So you only like me for my looks?”

  I threw up my hands in frustration. “Of course not. You’re smart, charming, warm, loyal, wonderful.”

  “Oh, so you trust me with your hoard?”

  Dammit. I had already trusted her with my hoard. Her spending spree after the auction to update the aesthetics of the BobCo brand gastropubs had been infuriating.

  “I already did. You went shopping on my dime.” It came out in a pained grunt.

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  “You love my personality, my looks, my brains. Love them enough to turn away powerful and seductive women, and you trust me enough to let me spend your hoard?” The foot stopped tapping.

  “That is a great mark of respect. I doubt he was happy about it, but for a dragon to let anyone spend his hoard in any capacity… that is a true gesture of love.” Dagrun smiled down at me, and I fought down the urge to give her the finger.

  “I let Kat do it as well!” I snapped, then regret began squeezing down even harder on my other emotions. A corner of the living blanket reached out and snatched Vanity into the sweaty embrace that was occurring in my mind.

  “And you made her dress like a slut!”

  “You did?” Dagrun echoed.

  “Jesus no! I picked an evolution that gave her a costume roulette. She gets a new outfit every couple of weeks. I don’t pick the damn costumes, and she did start out in what amounted to an armoured bikini! Most of the new outfits have actually been more modest than before. In some ways.”

  Dagrun glared at me for a second and then chuckled. “IMPS has a strange sense of humour.”

  “I love IMPS. It’s great and kind and wise,” I chanted like a cultist. I glared around at the edges of the cavern. I did not want to get screwed over on my next evolution. “Besides, you sent me to get that costume, remember?” I winked at Esme, who blushed a bright pink that extended down her neck and across the top of her chest.

  “I remember. Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Her arms uncrossed, and her foot went completely still.

  “Good. Wait, I did? What did I convince you of?” Admiral Ackbar was giving me the heebie jeebies. The fish-alien had formed in my mind, just outside the terror-hug that Regret was administering. Suspicion had been born.

  “That we should get married. Dagrun, would you care to do the honours?”

  “I was a pastor in my previous life. I think I can remember the words. We are gathered here today…”

  I’d been played. Stupid dragon.

  The ceremony was short and sweet.

  “Do you?” Dagrun asked Esme.

  “I do.”

  “And you?”

  “I do.” It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. I’d very much talked myself into a corner here. But I wasn’t entirely unhappy about the situation, and I smiled warmly at my betrothed as I spoke the most expensive words in the English language… ah shit. Not expensive!

  “Then I pronounce you dragon and wife. You may kiss… ok… guys… That’s enough kissing already. Seriously.”

  Dagrun snorted in our direction, blowing Esme’s hair to one side and setting my tunic to fluttering. We ignored her. When we were good and done, we parted, and I adjusted my trousers.

  “So we can have the egg now?” I asked, my cheeks no doubt glowing brightly enough to stand out around the halo of sparks I was shedding. I needed to have a word with Bulb and get that fixed. It was embarrassing.

  “Are you sure you’ll have time to take care of it?”

  “Of course we will, Dagrun.” Esme smiled the prettiest smile I’d ever seen. She glowed more than I did.

  “Newlyweds are often a bit distracted.”

  “I’ve got a war to win, a business empire to expand, a gangster to kill without directly attacking him, and a contracted arena fight in the near future. Pretty normal new-parent stuff.”

  “New parents are usually busy, not busy conducting genocide and bringing the Primal Empire back into being.” Dagrun grimaced at me.

  “I knew I should have eaten the Hardprick.”

  “Bob!”

  “Not like… I meant Harald. He’s the prophesied one or some shit. Killing him would make life a lot simpler.”

  “But he’s your sworn minion.” Esme did not look happy at my scheme to rid myself of a troublesome prick. Her arms were once again crossed, and I could almost feel her foot rising in anticipation of a damn good tapping.

  “Fine. I’ll leave him be.” I did not sound like a petulant child.

  “It may be an issue you need to address sooner rather than later, Bob. We live in delicate times. A beginning is a difficult phase.” She extended her head down, and her tongue flicked out against the shell of the egg I'd laid.

  “Do you mind?”

  “He is happy. He likes the sound of our voices,” Dagrun said simply.

  “How can you tell?” Esme asked.

  “Can’t you feel it? Here…” A wave of pressure expanded around me, and I could suddenly feel the thing inside the shell. It was damp and soft, a faint heartbeat, and swishing limbs that moved slowly in the murky fluid that I remembered only too well.

  I reached out a hand towards the shell, but Esme got their first. My hand settled on top of hers, and our eyes met. The power vanished, and I yanked my hand away.

  “He’s not having any of my hoard.” I scooped up the gold I’d left the last time and ferreted it away in my possum pouch.

  “You will have to share, love.” Such a hateful word for a new wife to use so soon. Share. Ick.

  “I don’t know, Esme…”

  “I do.” Her firm tone softened as she continued. “Not evenly.”

  That was an idea I could get behind.

  “He will seek his own wealth soon enough. He might be a handful.”

  “I’ll just sic Auntie Jenny and her rolling pin on him if he misbehaves. He’ll have a lot of uncles and aunts to keep him in line.”

  “Might I make a suggestion?” Dagrun asked politely.

  I didn’t like where I thought this might be going.

  “Of course,” Esme replied. Betrayed twice before I even consummated the marriage. You get reincarnated, you kind of hope for better.

  “Trust Chi.”

  Fuck. How had I known that was what she was going to say?

  “Chi is an angry grandma with a bad—”

  “No, Bob. She’s a wise and intelligent woman with a lifetime and a half's experience for you to draw on.”

  “She talks to me like I’m a child,” I muttered moodily.

  “She does the same with me. She knows everything about the TOTS, all the evolution paths, all the strategies. There are still members of the Shadow Flight lurking at the edge of the world, and now that you killed Umbraxis, they will have blood in their eyes. Keep my children close and use Chi.”

  “They were bugger all use against that guy!” I objected.

  “Umbraxis was not a fair match for them, but against some of the others? They can do fine.”

  “Fine doesn’t mean useful,” I grumbled.

  “Trust, Bob. Now take your egg back home and raise a happy draglet.” Dagrun sounded almost sad as she said farewell and cast a longing look at my egg.