True to his word, Carsen helped Bastian through the inspection, and all but dragged his boss back to the palace after only an hour at the rounds - threatening and cajoling him every step of the way.

  There wasn’t much help in the palace archives. If Rowen were here, then the fox could have offered access to the Emerald Palace confidential collection, but they were not here. Not yet.

  And even if they were... Prince Basil had apparently dragged Prince Lucial into that wing of the palace this morning, ordered everyone gone, and neither had come out yet.

  Carsen wondered what would happen if Rowen did appear right now, interrupting their child’s passionate affair.

  “There isn’t anything new.” Bastian said, shoving a tome the size of Carsen’s torso across the table. He’d been sitting here leafing through four differently sized books all afternoon and it was almost time to finish up.

  “I’m sorry, Commander,” Della the hedgehog beastfolk librarian said sadly. “But those are all we have down here. I could order a district search?”

  He nodded, “Please do.”

  “What next?” Carsen asked after Della had left. By this point he was actually starting to seriously worry about the knight commander. He looked clammy, and twitchy, and ready to maul someone. It was so bad that he was actually starting to wonder if Rebecca was right, and maybe Bastian was poisoned or under some sort of effect. He didn't want to think the Sumbrian girl he met would do something like this - but that didn't stop the thought from creeping in.

  Bastian dragged a hand down his face. “I can’t go home like this.”

  “There’s one more person we could ask today.” Carsen knew Bastian didn’t want to speak to Guild Master Warren, but who else walked around Vitol as an ancient being of wisdom who’d befriended dragons? So what if he was lazy as a blue panda? The demon was personable.

  And he was a high enough level that he might spot anything else that was going on with the drakin.

  To his surprise, Bastian agreed.

  …

  Bastian and Carsen arrived at the guild in good time, and were show upstairs immediately.

  Warren Jones, Arbiter of Shadow, unwilling Guild Master of the Adventurers Guild of Vitol, the undying demon of Peldeep… was having a nap.

  Assistant Guild Master Gemma of Peldeep stared daggers at the faintly snoring demon. Warren was laid out over a couch in his office, dark brown hair a floppy mess and his common place adventuring attire askew. He could almost pass for a beastfolk in folk form, or a particularly scruffy human. Save for the horns.

  “Warren!” Gemma snapped. The mousefolk woman pushed up her glasses and marched over to the sleeping demon. “What did I say about naps?”

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  The demon scratched at his stubble, eyes closed. “After lunch.”

  “ONE HOUR.” She stated firmly, walking over and poking Warren viciously in the side. “It’s almost four o'clock! Up! Up! We have important visitors.”

  Bastian spoke to Carsen, “Here we go.”

  “Gemma, darling, five more minutes?” Warren asked, placing the back of his hand against his eyes.

  “Five seconds and you’ll be seeing the Knight Commander on your knees.” She snapped back. That seemed to get the demon’s attention. He sat up slowly and blurrily blinked his eyes at the two of them.

  “Bastian, Carsen, so good to see–” He yawned, covering his too sharp teeth as he did. “-you. How can I be of service to Their Highness today?”

  Carsen stepped forward, “Actually, we are here on more personal business.”

  “Oh?” That got a bit more attention, and Warren narrowed his eyes at the pair, “Your cousin is currently exploring Dungeon Thea, is she not? I’m afraid anything else would be confidential information.”

  “Not for me,” Carsen corrected, “The Knight Commander is suffering from an unknown, uh, dragon thing. We think.”

  Warren’s eyes focused on Bastian, and there was a tense moment while he really looked at the drakin. Then he nodded, “It was about time.”

  “What do you mean?” Bastian asked, preparing himself for the inevitable round about way Warren Jones answered any question.

  “You aren’t interested in crafting?” Warren asked.

  Bastian couldn’t imagine anything but holding Peregrine right now. Even his needle felting was failing him. “I’m not.”

  “And you’re what, 23?” Warren pressed for more personal information. "And already Level 58?"

  “There abouts,” Bastian answered. He was, after he’d checked his status sheet that morning, only a few hundred experience points from Level 59… though as far as the public knew, he was Level 55.

  “Your father came to Peldeep when he was around 25, you're early.” Warren nodded, “Be happy this happened before you hit Level 60 and became a dragon in your own right. Nate almost froze over Lake Yukino when Witch Agatha turned him down.”

  “Who?” Carsen cut in.

  “My father,” Bastian explained.

  “Your father courted Witch Agatha.” Gemma said, incredulous. She’d otherwise remained standing quietly behind Warren, but now looked at Bastian like he’d grown another head. “‘Oh, She of the Frozen Heart,’?!”

  “Ice Dragon; Ice Sorceress. He thought it would be fate.” Warren stuck his pinky finger into his ear and rotated a few times to clear it. “It wasn’t. She moved to North Sumbria after that, mores the pity.”

  “And then my father flew to Vitol and met my mother.” Bastian ground out. “Before promptly flying back to the mountains and never coming back. I know."

  “After freezing the lake.” Warren reminded him.

  Bastian wanted to demand the demon get on with it, but knew better. Warren wasn’t fast about anything. Least of all answers. “What does any of this have to do with my condition?”

  “You see, when a dragon grows up and comes into their own–” He stopped when Gemma glared at him. Apparently, she was also out of patience with the demon. Warren coughed and stared Bastian straight in the eye. “You’re in heat.”