The moment the door to Kael’s room clicked shut, Riley’s survival instincts kicked in. His brain screamed explain yourself now, before the dragon lord turned him into furniture polish.
But he didn’t get the chance.
Kael raised one hand, a simple gesture that silenced him far more effectively than any threat. Then, with infuriating calm, he pressed a single finger to his lips.
"If you have things from the other room, transfer them here," he said flatly.
Riley blinked. "...What?"
Kael’s golden eyes slid deliberately toward the far corner, to the decorative plants placed neatly in their carved pots. His brows lifted a fraction, then angled downward in a subtle motion that screamed pay attention.
And then Riley understood.
Oh.
OH.
Plants. Of course.
Unlike treants, who were connected to their kind by virtue of race, elves had a different arrangement. They had cozied up to nature in some kind of symbiotic contract. As self-proclaimed caretakers of the natural world, elves were recognized by most plant life.
Which meant the predicament they were in was beyond ridiculous.
Because it would’ve been fine if elves had only been able to coax flowers into blooming, but no. They could also ask plants to remember or tell them things.
In effect, they were spies with leaves.
Free ones too! Spies that even produced their own food!
With magic, free labor, and a workforce that only needed the occasional song to keep going, no wonder the elves of Silvara had grown so smug. Entitled. Arrogant.
Arrogant enough to try this trick on the Dragon Lord.
Okay, maybe they were just decorations, and he was just overreacting. But with what happened to him earlier, Riley felt he had the right to say, ’Decoration, my ass.’
Riley’s lips twitched, a laugh threatening to claw its way out. But it wasn’t a sane laugh—it was the kind of crazed sound you make right before you break.
After hiking and nearly falling to his death, facing blatant discrimination, being lectured for hours, almost getting swallowed alive by a horde of gorgeous elves, and lying through his teeth just to survive... now he had to deal with spying plants?
Can’t he catch a fucking break?!
But he swallowed the hysteria down, cleared his throat, and said, "I don’t have anything to transfer. Everything happened just as they guided me inside."
Kael’s gaze lingered, sharp and questioning. "Are you sure?"
Riley squinted at him, baffled. Was Kael really expecting him to act out some staged domestic drama while the houseplants tattled on them to the elves?
Apparently yes.
Because Kael’s brows tilted ever so slightly, signaling go along with it. His lips curved, and he leaned forward just enough to make Riley want to crawl straight into the floor.
"So," Kael said aloud, his voice as casual as an executioner sharpening his axe, "you haven’t entertained anyone while I was away?"
Riley’s mouth fell open.
That route? Of all the routes possible? Seriously? Where did this lizard even learn that from?!
He shot Kael a look, eyes narrowed, lips pursed, the very picture of are you kidding me right now. But Kael only raised his brow in silent dare: say the line.
Grinding his teeth, Riley forced the words out, tone flat as a dead fish. "No. I definitely didn’t. Why would I even do that in the first place?"
His expression, though? Pure sourness. He looked like someone being forced to gargle mud while smiling politely.
Kael rolled his eyes in visible disdain, but then his mouth betrayed him, curling into something low and dangerous. "Good. Keep it that way."
If Riley’s glare could kill, his boss would’ve been vaporized on the spot. Because really—this entire mess? A big chunk of it was his fault.
Then again, how could Riley be so lucky as to easily escape the mess?
Answer: he couldn’t.
Because the next words out of Kael’s mouth nearly gave him a stroke.
"Prepare my bath," the dragon lord said smoothly, his golden eyes glinting. "We’re taking one now."
Riley froze. His brain screeched to a halt like a wagon hitting a wall. "We’re... WHAT?!"
His voice cracked halfway through, eyes going wide in utter horror. His hands flailed before he slapped them against his own thighs to keep himself from making bigger gestures.
We?! As in plural?! Two?!
His jaw worked wordlessly, trying to form something sensible, but his face said it all: Sir, are you absolutely nuts?!
Kael’s expression, however, was maddeningly calm. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even sigh. He just rolled his eyes, the picture of someone far too bored with human dramatics. A faint scoff slipped from him, not even audible to the plants, but enough for Riley to catch.
Oh, of course. They weren’t actually going to bathe together. The bathroom was probably the safest place to talk without leafy greens listening in on their every word.
Still.
Did he really have to phrase it like that?!
Couldn’t he have just ordered him to clean the place? Pretend he was some obsessive clean freak who couldn’t sit in a room unless the tiles sparkled? But no. He had to say it like that. And now, what exactly were the spying plants supposed to think?
Riley’s glare screamed: Do you realize how this sounds?!
Kael arched one brow, tilting his head with that deliberate, infuriating patience that conveyed without words: Yes. That’s the point.
Riley’s nostrils flared. His hand twitched, forming a half-gesture somewhere between strangling and pointing. Are you seriously telling me you want them to think that?!
Kael’s lip curved, just slightly. He angled his chin upward, fingers tapping lazily against his arm in silent answer: Exactly as we want them to think.
Riley nearly combusted. What ’we’? Where was the ’we’ in this?!
Oh, he was sure the elves were going to love this one. The little plants were probably rustling their leaves in excitement already.
Yay for them.
Riley plastered on his most brittle smile, every tooth clenched tight. "Very well. I’ll... prepare appropriately."
His voice was smooth. His expression, though? Bleep—!
Yes, that bad.
But what do you know, he’d apparently need to bleep together entire paragraphs after hearing what the great lizard had to say.