Not Really the Prisoner of Zenda by Joel Rosenberg Read Free Book Online

thoughts should be his own, and not shared unless he spoke.
    *I’ll try harder not to listen, then,*Ellegon said.
    Neither Thomen, personally, nor anybody else in Holtun or Bieme, had anything to apologize to Ellegon for — Ellegon had, granted, spent a couple of centuries chained in the sewage pit in Pandathaway, forced to flame the city’s wastes into ash or be buried in offal, but that was Pandathaway, not the Empire, after all, and things were different here.
    *I guess I should admire your detachment, but I’m not sure that I do.*
    “Well, then, I’m sorry,” he said. He set down the papers, stood, stretched, and walked to the window.
    *It’s not your fault, Thomen.*
    “No, but I’m still sorry. Really,” he said.
    *I know.*
    Beyond the bars, the dragon stood in the courtyard, stretching his neck out to shoot a gout of flame skyward. Ellegon preened himself, and stretched his wings, then turned his head toward where Thomen stood.
    “So,” Thomen said. “Last I heard, you were going to fly Baron Keranahan and his party home tomorrow.”
    Ellegon flicked his wings; a sort of draconic shrug.*Jason asked me to. You have some objection?*
    Thomen shook his head. “No, no objection — just some petty jealousy. I’m stuck in this castle, while Jason is back in his barony, probably already out hunting, and —”
    *And Lady Leria is also returning to Keranahan, with her betrothed. Does that bother you?*
    Thomen’s jaw tightened. “Read my mind if you want to know that badly.”
    Yes, Thomen had been more than slightly attracted to Leria, and had entertained the possibility of marrying her, which made sense for reasons of state, as well. Thomen’s main task, as he saw it, was to bind Holtun and Bieme together, and for him to marry a girl of an old Euar’den family might help to do that.
    His private thoughts were none of anyone else’s concern.
    *My turn to apologize, I expect,*Ellegon said.
    Thomen forced himself to unclench. He was just tired, and overreacting. Complaining about Ellegon reading his mind was silly. It was natural for the dragon to do that —
    *At least with friends, and at least on the surface level,*Ellegon said.*I can sense that there are some things you’re trying hard not to think about — some painful memories, perhaps, or some things you’re ashamed of, possibly — but I’m not looking at those, Thomen. Not that it would matter if I did. And not that I would tell anybody, either.*
    Thomen nodded. “So, you’re back to carry the baron and his lady home?”
    *Yes. But I made it a point to be a little early. They won’t be ready to leave until morning, unless I wake them up now, and I’m not of a mind to, for any number of reasons.*
    “Such as?”
    *Can you keep a secret?*
    “Yes.”
    *Well, so can I. In any case, they’re not leaving until morning, and …*
    “And?”
    *And I was wondering if the Emperor can drag himself away from his paperwork for a short ride.*
    “For what? Is there something —”
    *No, there’s nothing wrong. Not everything has to be a problem, or a solution, after all. I just thought you might like a break.*
    “No important affair of state?”
    *No. No surprise inspection of the guard in Tyrnael; no quick survey of wood stock in Adahan; nobody to talk to except me, and nothing to do, except maybe look at the river from cloud level; it’s pretty under the starlight, and the faerie lights over Kernat are lovely tonight. No plans — although I might swoop down and swoop up a sheep, because I’m getting hungry — just for fun.*
    Thomen looked back at the stack of paper on his desk. It hadn’t gotten any smaller while he had been chatting with the dragon. He was the Emperor, after all, and he had responsibilities. And he was a grown man, and had been, for years, and not a boy, who could simply take off whenever he wanted to, to do whatever he wanted to.
    *Sure you can. As long as you don’t do it very often. I warn you, though: your mother