Adore Ch 32 (Patreon)

“Should we follow them onto the dance floor?” Peregrine asked, swirling the remainder of her sparkling wine instead of drinking it.  


Her other hand was still on Bastian’s arm. It was a comfort, grounding him and his frustrations. Henrietta was a friend, and her tireless efforts had earned her respect and consideration by adventurers and royals internationally. 


Seeing her treated this way got under his skin.


“No.” Bastian replied, letting himself relax. “You saw what happened this afternoon… people have always held the Dark Enchanted Forest in fear and contempt. Henrietta can hold her own- it’s King Keith I’m worried about.” 


The pair looked on as the Dark Lord positively leaked out aura. His face was calm, impassive, and that only made it more concerning. 


“Is she really that strong?” Peregrine tilted her head, inspecting the dancing princess. 


“She can break my dragon scales with her bare hands.” Bastian explained. “And–”


“Your what?” Peregrine turned on Bastian fast, her interest driving him back a step. 


“My scales… ah.” Bastain froze. Her curious stare said it all. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. “You don’t know.” 


His partner didn’t flinch, but the tips of her ears darkened with embarrassment. “I don’t.” 


“What did they tell you about me?”


“Not much.” 


Any other time, and he would have accepted her shrug and calmly filled her in with everything she might need to know… but not this time. “Peregrine. What did they tell you?” 


“They handed me your portrait.” 


“And?”


“And that’s it.” Peregrine shrugged. “They said Peldeep wants a marriage alliance and here he is, make it happen.” 


“And you agreed?!” Bastian turned to face her to face him properly, releasing her arm and putting a small bit of space between them. He didn’t want to fight the surge of possessiveness that roiled in his chest if she rejected him outright… it would be better if he weren’t touching her at all when that happened. 


“No.” She met his eyes. “I was going to meet you first and then make my decision.” 


That made it slightly more bearable. He could work with that. “And now?” 


“Now,” She tilted her drink at him, “You still haven’t explained the dragon scales.” 


“I’m a drakin.” 


Peregrine’s eyes went wide as she looked him over, head to toe. “Really?”


Her tone didn’t show anything but curiosity. 


“Yes.” Thinking it was better to get it all out of the way, Bastian lifted his arm. 


[You have activated the Skill [+Shapeshift: Arms]. Mana Cost 100. Dragon blood runs through you and you have unlocked a portion of its power. You may shift any part of your body into its draconic form. Specialization area [Arms] lowers mana cost by 50%. Shapeshifted area bonus +25% to all physical stats. Ice Resistance…]


He ignored the message, focusing on the feeling of scales rippling down his forearm and shifting his hand into a dragon claw. 


Peregrine stared at his arm. 


“Can I touch it?” 


He nodded, and her hand brushed against his. 


“It’s cold?” She inspected it closer. “Ice dragon? It would explain your colouring.” 


“From my father.” Bastian explained, holding very still. His scales were sharp. 


“Wow.” 


“Is it… going to be a problem?” 


“No,” She withdrew her hand and shook her head. “No, this works better actually.” 


Bastian shifted his arm back to normal. “How so?” 


“Sumbria is…” Peregrine hesitated, sighed, and then said, “racist.” 


Bastian couldn’t help it; he snorted. 


She nodded, “And there are very few people the elves hold as high in regard as other elves– dragon’s being one of them.” 


“But I’m not a complete dragon yet.” He countered. 


“You’re close enough.” 


Something about their conversation didn’t sit right with him. “That just means that Sumbria is fine with you marrying a drakin… but are you fine with marrying a drakin?”


Their eyes met for a long second and then she nodded. 


“Phew,” Hermie said, startling the two. The hedgehog couple were standing only a few feet away. They were beside a half-elf wearing green, and all three were staring at Bastian and Peregrine. 


“Ah–” Peregrine’s ears darkened. 


“Charlie, Hermie,” Bastian stepped closer to Peregrine, wrapping an arm around her. 


“Does that mean congratulations are in order, then?” Charlie asked, her eyes gleaming. 


“That’s–”


“We haven’t–”


Peregrine spoke first, so Bastian waited for her to speak first. It wasn’t because he wanted to know what she was going to say…


“We’ll let you know,” Peregrine decided as her answer, “if everything works out. We haven’t had an official marriage talk yet.” 


The half-elf in green spoke for the first time, “Apologies for intruding on your courtship, I am Markus Savis, of Servalt.” 


“Well me,” Bastian nodded. “I am Bastian of Peldeep and this is Countess Peregrine.” 


“Of Sumbria,” Peregrine added.


“Markus has been a dear, finding us a burrow manor in Heatherfeld,” Hermie explained. “We moved in two weeks back.”


“In Servalt?” Bastain studied the man harder. Merchants of Servalt were notorious for two things; corruption and international crime. 


More often both. 


Markus had a pleasant and innocent smile, “Yes, I work exclusively in real estate. If you’re looking for a summer home in Servalt near the Sumbrian border, I have just the place for you.” 


His voice turned into an obvious sales pitch and he winked at the last part. 


“We’ll consider,” Bastian said, glancing down at Peregrine to see she had put on a polite and empty smile. 


If she wasn’t interested, then he wasn’t interested. 


“It was lovely to meet you,” Markus lifted his glass in greeting and took a sip. Bastian nodded, he didn’t have a glass, and Peregrine simply tilted her drink in reply. She wasn’t a fan of the beverage, so far as he could tell. 


“They've stopped dancing,” Peregrine drew all of our attention back to the dance floor, where Princess Henrietta and her supposed fiance were stopped. 


They were talking animatedly. When the Marquess lifted one hand, Bastian wondered if he was going to dare and strike the princess– but then he lowered it instead. 


And that's when Peregrine collapsed in his arms.