H - 141: Explain the Joke (Patreon)

The habits of centuries did not change overnight; even after the battle and its aftermath, the sight of a dragon swooping down over the walls of Boisverd prompted screams and fleeing. Most of the city’s population, after all, had been in shelters during the attack and had not seen the drakes helping.

Plenty had, though, and Pheneraxa’s appearance was met by cheers as well. Having been forewarned of her planned arrival, the alarm bells did not ring, either. The blue drake glided carefully over to the Palace and vanished behind its walls, setting down in the courtyard.

Behind her Pheneraxa left a stirred city, buzzing with reassurances, complaints, and arguments, featuring more than a few voices raised in insistence along a general theme:

“That’s the blue one, she’s the best one! She flew around putting out all the fires!”

***

There were always formalities to be observed when royalty were involved, but the Verdi were nothing if not observant and quick thinking. The party from Dragonvale was spared the worst of the officiousness because at the first sign that the dragon in their midst was growing bored, everyone involved hastened through a few steps.

It was thus only a few minutes after Nashma had peeled off to meet with the newly appointed Missari ambassador that Percy and Pheneraxa were being led into a spacious meeting hall, in which several apparent nobles were already gathering in little groups.

All eyes fixed instantly upon the newly arrived group, who for the moment ignored them.

“I see everything’s not quite as set up as I’d hoped,” Prince Franz acknowledged. “I wanted there to be food ready by the time you got here, Pheneraxa.”

“It’s wonderful to feel so seen,” she said primly.

“But it’s not as if we have nothing for you!” he continued, grinning and leading the way toward a heavily-laden table against one wall. “Your heroics have earned you quite the fandom—along with both your siblings, to be clear, but you in particular have the best reputation any dragon in the Evervales has ever enjoyed, Pheneraxa. Once it was announced that you would be visiting, the gifts began pouring in.”

“Gifts?” Pheneraxa and Percy chorused in unison.

The table was indeed covered with packages. Many appeared to be letters and there were quite a few floral bouquets; the rest were wrapped in a variety of coverings ranging from coarse paper to silk.

“They’re all wrapped?” Pheneraxa said. “All those that can be, I guess…”

“Yes, we do that in Vale cultures,” Percy affirmed, nodding. “Concealment is kind of…in our nature, though I’ve never understood why it’s always done with gifts.”

“Because it’s fun,” Franz said with a smile. “This way a present is always a surprise! And of course, Mother has already had our people go over everything carefully to weed out the poisons and bombs and various other such attempts.”

“I see,” Pheneraxa mused, stepping up to the table and lightly trailing her claws along one edge, examining all the letters and parcels and flowers. “Hm… They did quite well, for a kingdom currently missing its spymaster and Court Mage, I only spot a few obvious issues.”

Franz’s expression fell. “What’s that, now?”

“Well, let’s see.” Pheneraxa picked up an engraved envelope. “This has an explosive spell on it. It would require a being above an uncommon level of mana density opening it to activate it… And the spell itself is quite weak—it would have to be, to avoid detection. Honestly I don’t think it would hurt even a human very much, let alone me. Since they were competent enough to get this all the way in here, I’d regard it as a prank, rather than a genuine attempt.”

“Never underestimate the stupidity of clever people,” Franz said with a sigh, gently taking the envelope from her. “This must be followed up on, clearly. We can’t have people pranking royal guests—or dragons, by the last named heaven. I’m terribly sorry for allowing this through, Pheneraxa.”

“Any others?” Percy asked brightly.

Pheneraxa lightly tapped a colorfully-wrapped package with her claws. “Whatever’s in this is cursed. It’s a subtle one—I suggest you find out who examined this package and have them taken to the Flock for a thorough cleansing. Hmm…I think…”

She picked up a flat box and flipped up the lid to reveal a tray of colorful cubes dusted with powdered sugar. Pheneraxa sniffed carefully…then gasped involuntarily, twice, her eyes narrowing.

Percy put a finger across her upper lip, and the incipient sneeze dissipated.

“Ah…thanks. Huh, I didn’t know that would work on dragons.”

“It seemed worth a try,” Percy said.

“Oh, no… Are those poisoned?” Franz asked.

“No, no, just got powdered sugar up my nose. Ah, that is… Actually yes, they are poisoned, but that wasn’t why…well, you know. No harm done; this poison, like many, won’t work on dragons.”

She popped one of the cubes into her mouth and chewed with a satisfied smile… Which quickly faded.

“Hm. Apparently the poison does mess with the texture. It’s all…gummy.”

“Or maybe Zhiiji’s are just better?” Percy suggested. “She did say loukoum is tricky.”

“Annnnd… I think that’s all of it. Oh, except this.” Pheneraxa pulled a leaf out of a bouquet in a crystal vase. It was quite pretty; white, with purple edges, and spiky in shape. “This is dragonsbane.”

“Did you say dragonsbane?” Franz repeated, barely managing to keep his voice down.

“It’s not such a big deal,” Pheneraxa assured him with a smile. “No, there is not a plant that reliably poisons dragons, otherwise Valefolk of all people would know of it. Dragonsbane is just something that most dragons are allergic to—it causes sneezing. By pure genetic coincidence, I’m not.”

She bit off part of the leaf and chewed contentedly.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it. The sneeze reflex tends to cause involuntary fire breath; most people who manage to slip this to a dragon don’t survive. I doubt anybody ever got close enough to try it with Atraximos. But dragonsbane is a lowland tropical plant, not something that would just be lying around in the Evervales. Somebody went well out of their way to do this. They either overestimated its effect or this was meant as an insult, not an attack. Mm, toxins are all tingly on the tongue. Sort of like ananas!”

“Oh?” Percy plucked another of the purple-edged leaves; Pheneraxa snatched it out of her hand.

“It’s tingly for me, Percy. Still very poisonous to most mammals.”

“Oh. That’s disappointing. What’s it taste like?”

“A bit like cabbage, but spicy, and more fibrous.”

Franz cleared his throat; at his gesture, two castle servants had stepped forward and were now carrying away the offending items from the gift table. “Pheneraxa, I apologize most humbly for this lapse.”

“It’s all right,” she said mildly, with her mouth still full of dragonsbane. “You’re down some key personnel, I understand.”

“It’s still an embarrassment—not only that we didn’t catch these, but that there are people in Boisverd who would even try this, after everything you did for us.”

“The old bastard ruined everything,” she said. “I don’t blame people one bit for not liking dragons. It’ll take a lot of time for attitudes to change.”

“You’re right, of course,” he agreed. “Blast… I need to go issue some orders, and also update Mother. I’m terribly sorry for leaving you alone so soon, but these trails have a way of going cold all too quickly. I should think some of those who sent these are already on their way out of the city. Regardless, there will be food along shortly. Proper food, I mean,” he added as Pheneraxa took another bite of dragonsbane.

“You know, some of the onlookers are definitely eavesdropping,” Percy commented. “The others are just watching you eat the floral arrangements.”

“Good,” Pheneraxa said cheerfully. “Let ‘em wonder.”

“It…might be a good idea to postpone opening the rest of your presents until we do a more thorough security sweep,” Franz added.

“Do you have the personnel for a more thorough sweep?”

His face fell. “Well…not really. Obviously we had them do their best in the first place. I know what Cora did, but it must be said nothing like this ever happened on her watch. Ahem, anyway. I’ll be right back, please enjoy the reception.”

He hustled away, leaving them to the reception, such as it was.

“What’s the plan, here?” Pheneraxa asked, peering around. This hall was spacious but not overly large, one entire wall dominated by huge windows and with open doors on each of the others. Well-dressed humans stood here and there, watching them with varying degrees of subtlety; so far, no one approached.

“Right, so this is an open reception,” Percy explained. “It’s a lower degree of formality, intended to signify your welcome to the community of the Palace. Hence the open doors; residents can come and go as they choose. Obviously it’s still the center of government, we won’t have just any old whoever stumbling in here, but you may be visited by lower bureaucrats and even some senior servants and soldiers and the like. Later on there’ll be a formal ball, which has tightly restricted entry; invited guests only. The main difference is there’s no social expectation at this one. Anyone of any rank who can be in here at all may be permitted to speak to you, but will not be required to. It’s possible nobody will actually approach—as curious as people must be, they’re also very afraid of dragons. It doesn’t signify anything if they don’t. At the ball, everyone will be expected to present their compliments and anybody who snubs you is formally declaring animosity and intent to wage social war. Valefolk almost never do that; I bet everyone will come smile and introduced themselves, and half of them will still be planning to murder you.”

Pheneraxa wrinkled her nose and swallowed the last of her dragonsbane. “Sounds convoluted.”

“Yeah,” Percy sighed. “Mother says nothing stops politics from getting complicated, and so complicated formalities are needed to head off complicated hostilities.”

Suddenly she tensed. Pheneraxa shifted to follow her stare, then narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

They were being approached, finally, by a gaggle of nobles—young ones, none seemingly older than Percy. Two men and four women: one gangly young fellow with brown hair and a slightly stooped posture, and a portly blond lad. Of the ladies, one had hair as pale as Cora d’Acron’s had been, nearly white, which was oddly unkempt for someone in such an expensive dress; she had tired-looking eyes and an unhealthily pale complexion. The other three women were varying shades of blonde, and so slathered in cosmetics it was difficult to tell them apart at a glance.

“Your Royal Highness!” said the taller man with an oily smile. “It is such a pleasure to see you again. And to know you’re safe! We were all so worried when you were snatched. Simply terrified!”

The other lad and three of the lassess tittered sycophantically, two of the latter hiding their mouths behind hand fans. The pale-haired lady was staring at the windows as if bored.

“Lord Jean-Pierre,” Percy said quietly. “Hello again. I trust you have been well.”

Pheneraxa looked at her, at her rigid demeanor, then back at the young nobles. Her eyes narrowed all the way to bare slits and the tip of her tail began lashing.

“And what a grand diplomatic achievement!” Jean-Pierre enthused, apparently oblivious to the rising physical danger he was in. “Befriending dragons, no less! We are in awe. Aren’t we, girls?”

The “girls,” which apparently included his male friend, again tittered on cue. The pale blonde was the exception; expression unchanging, she looked at Pheneraxa and deliberately took two long steps away from the group.

“Thank you,” Percy said evenly.

“I just knew you had it in you,” said Jean-Pierre with an insincere smile. “Why, it must be a gift! A first gift, so to speak.”

At this, the three women and one man laughed aloud, as did Lord Jean-Pierre.

Percy, who had been standing stiffly with her body angled mostly toward Pheneraxa, suddenly turned to face them directly. “Why is that funny?”

Her voice cut across the room, silencing both the nearby youths and several more distant conversations. In the ensuing quiet, the group of young nobles visibly quailed, sensing the analytical stares of all the other courtiers.

“It’s, ah, just a little joke,” said Lord Jean-Pierre, rallying. “Nothing to worry about—”

“I don’t get it,” Percy stated flatly. “Explain it to me.”

All six of them had an entirely new demeanor now. The young woman off to the side was suddenly watching with a kind of malicious delight; the rest of her friends looked uneasy. Pheneraxa kept her peace, fortunately.

“Well, now,” Jean-Pierre blustered, “no call for that, your Highness. I’m sorry my attempt at humor failed. You know how it is, if you explain a joke it’s not funny anym—”

“You all laughed.” Percy took one step toward them; all of them retreated. “Clearly it was funny. Why? Explain the joke.”

“I…ah.” Visibly regretting his decisions, Jean-Pierre hunched even more than he normally did. “You’re rather putting me on the spot, your Highness—”

“It was that incident you caused with the trade delegation from Shaodan,” the pale blonde said suddenly.

“Colette!” Jean-Pierre barked. She sneered at him.

“Incident?” Percy tilted her head. “I recall the delegation, but not an incident.”

“Yes, I’m sure your mother protected you from the consequences the way she always does,” Lady Colette replied, curling her lip. “That delegate gave you a hairpin. You weren’t supposed to take it.”

“Colette!” Jean-Pierre hissed.

Percy blinked. “What?”

“In Shao culture, you’re supposed to refuse an expensive gift from a stranger, especially one with social significance like hairpins have to them,” Colette explained. “The offer is a polite gesture; it’s not actually an offer unless you refuse it three times and they offer it a fourth. A formal trade delegate would expect a princess to know that. You looked like a greedy hick and embarrassed Boisverd.”

A moment of pained silence hung.

“I see,” Percy said finally. “Thank you for explaining that, Lady Colette.”

“My pleasure,” she said with a venomous little smile.

Percy turned back to Jean-Pierre. “That wasn’t funny.”

He swallowed. “Your Highness—”

“A joke,” Percy stated, “has some kind of ironic reversal or counter-intuitive juxtaposition. That was simply a cruel comment that you assumed I wouldn’t understand. What would possess you to do such a thing?”

“I…um…that wasn’t…at all what I meant,” Jean-Pierre babbled, retreating again. Looking frantically about, he fixed his eyes on Colette and took refuge in anger. “If someone hadn’t put ideas in your head—”

“Oh, shut up,” Colette said with naked contempt. “I cannot to save my life imagine why any of you simpletons thought this was a good idea. I only came along today because I thought I might get to see Jean-Pierre get eaten by a dragon. Still disappointed about that, but…this is pretty good.”

Pheneraxa grinned in silent agreement.

“Lord Jean-Pierre,” Percy said, “inform your mother I wish to have a discussion with her at her earliest convenience. If she has not reached out to arrange a time by the day after tomorrow, she will be informed of one, and the fact that she did not learn of it from you will affect the contents of our conversation.”

He had gone bone-pale. “Y-your Highness—”

“You may go,” Percy stated.

Jean-Pierre stammered another moment, then offered a shaky bow and fled.

“Your Royal Highness,” one of the young ladies with him began hesitantly.

Percy fixed her with a stare. “What.”

The lady in question squeaked. All of them mumbled incoherently, curtsied awkwardly, and then rushed out of the chamber. All but one.

“Colette,” Percy said, “why?”

Lady Colette had been grinning after her departed friends. Her expression did not change as she turned it on Percy. “Why what?”

“Why any of it? You and that lot have been bothering me for years. I have never understood what you get out of it, much less why you’d turn on them now.”

“Oh, well, that’s simple enough.” Colette dipped her fingers into a thin chain hanging around her neck and pulled a necklace from beneath her neckline; it appeared to be a tiny crystal vial. “I’ve always hated you, Perseverance.”

“What did I ever do to you?”

Colette shrugged. “You let those fucking imbeciles bully you. Were you even aware that your tormentors were the absolute dregs of noble society in this country? Not because their Houses aren’t powerful—because of who they are, individually. Your relationship says it all: harassing royalty just because they can is the act of an abject slobbering dipshit who doesn’t even have the imagination to be a proper reprobate. And there is simply nothing I despise more than deliberate, unnecessary weakness. You could’ve had the lot of them exiled at any point. Far as I’m concerned, putting up with it made you worse than them.”

“But… I thought they were your friends,” Percy said, frowning.

Colette had tipped something from the vial onto her fingertip, and now rubbed it on the inside of her lip. “I have nothing but contempt for them and they hate me. They keep me around because I’m their supplier and nobody else puts up with their shit. But anyway, look at you! Taming dragons. Good on you, girl.”

Pheneraxa bared her teeth. “You think I’m tame?”

“Aw, hurt your feelings?” Colette tucked her necklace away again. “Eat me if you’re gonna, see if I care. Whatever they did to put some backbone into you, Princess, good. Glad to see it. That’s what this country needs, especially after the dog’s breakfast your family’s made of everything lately. Come next year you might be the last one left. Wouldn’t that be something? Anyway, hit me up if you need some good stuff.”

She turned and sauntered away.

“What a…strange and unpleasant young woman,” Pheneraxa remarked before Colette was out of earshot, to no response.

Percy was staring down at her own hands. “I don’t remember…changing.”

Pheneraxa hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder. “Percy?”

“I was…so afraid of that exact thing, you know. I worried about…um…regressing. Even after everything I’ve done and been through and seen, I thought if that group cornered me again I’d just…be the way I was before. Not understanding what they were saying, afraid to do anything about it. But you know what? It happened, Jean-Pierre opened his mouth with that smug face like always, and the only idea in my head was ‘What makes this little pissant think he can talk to me like that?’ And… I don’t even recall when I…changed.”

“Change can be good.” Pheneraxa grinned broadly. “You’re starting to think like a dragon.”

Percy turned to her, a wry smile blossoming on her features. “You know, that’s just about the worst thing you could say to a Vale maiden.”

“But it’s the highest compliment a dragon can bestow,” Pheneraxa said with an unrepentant grin.

The princess grinned back, then suddenly tilted her head in thought. “What’s ananas?”

“Wh—oh! It’s a tropical fruit, they grow in the same climate as dragonsbane, actually. Supposedly they’re incredibly sweet, but they contain a particular kind of acid that’s usually found in the digestive systems of animals, so when you eat it, the juice causes extremely minor tissue damage in your mouth. So minor that you experience it as a tart layer to the flavor. Apparently there’s no other taste like it. I’ve been wanting to try one since I read about it; Zhiiji says she hasn’t cooked with them but has read some recipes.”

“Hm, from the tropics? Is that too far for you to fly?”

“Not at all, it’s nothing like Shamissar. In fact, they have them on the barrier islands in Rhivaak, just south of the capital. We could fly there and back in a day. Ah… We should clear it with Aunt Izzy first so there’s not an incident, but I can’t imagine she’d object as long as we gave notice in advance.”

“Perfect,” Percy said with a broad smile, and leaned over to bump her shoulder against the dragon’s. “Then that’s our second date sorted.”

For a moment, Pheneraxa forgot how to breathe.