Max and Lavinia's gear had been brought beforehand, and each took a trowel. Once Max ensured she was inside the hole without issue—he grew more protective by the day, like a dragon-shifter—they went to work.
To an outsider, their work probably seemed boring—what, with constant scraping and shifting of dirt into pails. Layer by shallow layer, they dug, careful not to destroy anything that could be hiding, looking for any sort of clue as to what lay beneath.
While she found a few coins and bits of pottery, they weren't anything exciting, and she kept going, grateful for the years of learning patience when it came to archaeology.
Lavinia had no idea how long she'd been excavating when something glinted in her latest trowel scraping. Using her hands, she carefully moved as much dirt and debris as possible until a tarnished, golden color shone in the faint sunlight.
Excitement thrummed through her. This had to be something, but what?
The more earth she removed, the more of the same hard, golden surface she revealed. Soon she could feel the etched scales on the top, the pointed ears, and the beginnings of eye ridges.
It was some sort of dragon statue. "Max!"
He came, squatted down, and whistled. "You rarely see something that big still in place, especially when it's gold."
She traced the defined lines of the snout, ears, and even the fine detailing of the scales. "If this is what we discover on the first day, just imagine what's waiting for us at floor level."
Max rubbed his hands together. "It's going to take years to find it all, and I bloody well can't wait."
She raised her brows. "Why do I get the feeling that our child is going to spend their early years poking around in the dirt with us?"
He gently gripped the back of her neck. "Because of course they will. This is history right here, Lavinia. Who wouldn't want to be front and center for it?"
Most people would say removing tons of dirt would be boring as fuck, only slightly more entertaining than watching paint dry.
But not her Max. Never him. And that was absolutely perfect. "I love you, Max."
He kissed her and tugged at her bottom lip before replying, "And I love you, Lavinia. Now, let's work some more on this statue. I'm curious to see what the eyes and lower jaw look like. It might give us a better idea of when it was made."
They continued to use their trowels to shift dirt and spent the day kneeling on the cold ground until they revealed the dragon's head.
And to Lavinia, the day was one she’d always remember. Plus, the fact they would continue doing exactly this together for years to come made it even more precious.
Epilogue
Ten Years Later
Max and Lavinia watched as the prime minister walked away toward the press area where she'd make a speech, along with the head of the National Trust, about the opening of Dragon's Court to the public.
It had been a long trek to get to this day. Years of carefully excavating, cataloging, restoring, and recording the history for future generations had been fascinating at times and tedious at others. But in the end, it had resulted in the remaining stone walls being visible to all, a museum on the grounds displaying the protected treasures, and even guided tours conducted by humans and dragon-shifters to share what had been learned during the process.
However, as Lavinia clasped Max's hand in hers and squeezed, he smiled down at his wife. Seeing her beautiful face made his day brighter, even after all these years. "That went well."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course it did. I still don't understand how you can brazen your way through a funding meeting but get nervous about a two-minute chat with the prime minister."
He tugged, and they walked toward the area set off to the side, where various tents and stalls had been set up. It was also where Antony and his mate were watching Max and Lavinia's daughter, Alena. He said, "Because I can sprout facts and figures out my arse all day long if it means I get to do more work. However, there's some sort of secret language with politicians I don't quite understand."
She chuckled. "Well, that part's done. Now we can merely smile and go on and on about Dragon's Court until eyes glaze over."
Max stopped, tugged his wife close, and kissed her. "They only glaze over when I talk, never you, love. You're a natural storyteller."
Lavinia lightly hit his chest. "Charmer."
Before he could say anything else, their nine-year-old daughter raced toward them, her uncle, aunt, and twin boy cousins not far behind them. "Mum, Dad, can we play with the archery stuff now?"
Alena stared at Max with big eyes. He was, after all, the soft one when it came to their daughter.
Lavinia jumped in first. "No, Alena. Not until everyone else comes inside."