But a little voice inside her warned that this was not the time or the place for feminism. Saurous was a dangerous world for women and the only protection she had at the moment was to sit very still and pray she ended up with Dragon, who at least wouldn’t beat or rape her—she hoped.
But Komendant Vizlar wasn’t through speaking yet. He pointed one scaly, black-clawed finger at his biological son and said,
“At this moment, I am ashamed to have you as my son. Until you learn better, you will never be the leader of the Crimson Blades.”
“But Sire!” Zerlix protested. “I thought—”
“You thought with your spike, not your head!” his father roared. “And as for the mammalian female…”
He turned to face Bobbi, who felt as though her heart had stopped in her chest. For a long, breathless moment, the Clan leader’s reptilian eyes glared into her own before he turned back to his son.
“As for her, it’s clear that she clouds your head too much for you to think clearly,” Komendant Vizlar said at last. “She belongs to Dragon, now and forever and I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
“But Sire, that’s not fair!” Zerlix whined. “She ought to be mine!”
“Did you not hear me? She is going to be Dragon’s wife!” The Komendant took a deep breath and rubbed his scaly forehead with one hand, clearly trying to calm down. “It is beneath you, my son, to be so fixated on a female,” he told Zerlix. “They are below us and beneath our notice—you cannot let yourself be so consumed by—”
“Fuck this shit!” Zerlix shouted. Picking up a half-empty wine goblet, he threw it on the tiled floor where it shattered like a bomb. Glass shards flew everywhere and wine splattered all over the black and white tiled floor. People gasped and jerked back instinctively, Bobbi included. Only Dragon remained in place, glaring daggers at his adoptive brother.
“That is conduct unbecoming in a child—let alone a grown male who is next in line to be leader.” Komendant Vizlar’s voice shook with anger. “You will leave the banquet hall now and I don’t want to see you again until I’ve straightened out the mess you made with the Poison Daggers.”
“Fine—I’m leaving,” Zerlix snarled. He pointed one clawed finger at Dragon and Bobbi. “But this isn’t over. She’s going to be mine!”
Then he turned and stormed out of the banquet hall, leaving everyone in the room to stare after him in shocked silence.
30
The quiet didn’t last for long. After a moment of stunned silence, the room was suddenly buzzing with conversation. Everywhere she looked, Bobbi saw forked tongues flickering as the Saurians around her discussed the display Zerlix had just put on. She heard words like “disturbing” and “disgraceful” being used and she could tell that everyone in the room felt like the oldest son had done something shameful—and worse, he had done it in public in front of his entire Clan!
And it was all because of me, she thought nervously. Oh boy, I think I’d better get out of here. Komendant Vizlar isn’t going to like me very much now that his oldest son has made a fool of himself over a “mere female.”
Dragon seemed to think the same thing because he rose and turned to her.
“Come, we need to be going,” he murmured. “It’s time we were getting back to our rooms.”
Bobbi noticed distantly that he had said “our” rooms instead of “my” rooms, but the thought didn’t make much of an impression on her. She was beginning to feel decidedly strange, though she couldn’t quite define what exactly was going on with her yet. All she knew was that she kept tasting that bitter aftertaste from the sweet pante’lion wine on the back of her tongue and her fingertips were tingling.
“All right,” she said, nodding. She took Dragon’s offered hand and let him help her up, trying not to see the disapproving look in Res. Tizlah’s eyes or the angry look in Komendant Vizlar’s.
They’re ashamed of their son, she thought. And it might be their fault for spoiling him for so long, but if I’m not careful, the blame is going to land on me.
Luckily, she didn’t have to see the disappointed Saurian parents for long. Dragon hurried her away, out of the banquet hall and down the long, tiled corridor that led to his rooms. The moment they got inside, he closed the door and locked it. Then he turned to face Bobbi.
“Are you okay?” she asked tensely, taking a step back. She was waiting to see if he would blame this on her—waiting to see if he would be angry because his adoptive parents were angry. “Are…are you mad at me?” she asked.
He frowned, but not in an angry way—more as though he was confused.