“I’m glad to see that go!” The whoosh of massive wings and the thud of her landing startled Blindelsyn as she to turn to see Melordianix shift from a horse size, slim dragon with glistening silvery-blue scales to a petite, beautiful, Shou woman with a long tail of blue-streaked silvery hair, perched naked upon the railing of the balcony. The song dragon’s ability to assume human form didn’t provide her with clothes, and she seldom bothered with them unless going out in public. “A dragon’s body is as unpleasant to us as a corpse is to you,” she said with clear distaste as she slid off the railing and turned to watch the cart baring the remains of the green dragon rumble toward the northern ford in the Greenborn river on its way out of Relkath’s Foot. “I still don’t understand why it’s necessary to send it to Velprintalar. It’s dead… it can’t do any more harm!” “It is proof of the lengths this Red Wizard went to too enslave our people,” Blindelsyn defended, even though she was just as happy to see it leave. “I doubt the Council can do more than protest to the zulkirs since the Red Wizard escaped and there’s no real evidence of Thay’s involvement, but it should make enough of a scene in the streets to crush the thought of allowing an enclave in any of Aglarond’s cities.” “Those sound like the words of the Council’s man,” Melordianix taunted, leaning over the railing to watch Rynard head south along the trail toward the Taproot before turning her piercing gaze on Blindelsyn with a knowing smile. “Did he whisper them in your ear last night?” “No,” the Princess protested, while her cheeks blushed and she looked away in embarrassment, but then she turned more serious; “We mostly spoke of the Son of Hoar… and fears that Aglarond might tear itself apart if they succeed in deposing the Simbul.” “The ways of men, be they human, elves or half-elves, will always confuse me. Why can’t your kind see that you’re stronger together than you are apart?” The song dragon inquired, as if expecting her to have some greater insight. “I wish I knew,” Blindelsyn sighed thoughtfully. “All I can do is quell the voices that call for Branelwyr and I to rise up against the coastlands and reclaim all of Aglarond for the forest… but there seem to be more of those every day, and now even the Masters aren’t above suspicion!” They watched the cart vanish under the leafy canopy in silently contemplation of those weighty issues, until Melordianix decided to turn their thoughts to a more pleasant subject. “So is that all you discussed with the mage last night?” she prodded playfully with a coy smile and capricious glint in her steely grey eyes. “I know he didn’t leave until dawn and there certainly was quite a racket coming from down here. We could hear it all the way up in our aerie… all night long!” Blindelsyn blushed again as she smiled bashfully, but met the song dragon’s eyes with an impish look of her own as she replied with feigned modesty; “We spoke of many things late into the night… of duties and responsibilities… and the indulgences that let us escape them for a time.” “Oh,” Melordianix purred playfully, “and just how… indulgent… was he?”