"Sir Lucas is going to tell a story! Come sit!"
Kaelus pushed off the carriage. "I have reports to review, Seraphina."
"The ducks can wait!" she insisted, patting the empty spot on the blue velvet blanket next to her. "Sir Lucas said there's a dragon in this one!"
Sir Lucas, currently sitting cross-legged on the grass and looking incredibly out of his depth, sweated profusely.
He shot the Duke a look of sheer panic.
He didn't know any children's stories.
The only stories he knew involved siege warfare, starvation, and decapitations.
Kaelus sighed, a long, dramatic sound, and walked over.
He didn't sit on the grass; he was the Archduke, after all, but he stood near the edge of the blanket, his towering presence acting as a dark, protective monolith against the bright sun.
"Proceed, Sir Lucas," Kaelus commanded softly. "Let us hear of this so-called dragon."
Lucas swallowed hard.
