Records Dyed Red

Chapter Six

Jour had thought the tiny figure was a black dragon.

He was covered in the drying remnants of the egg he'd hatched from but, under that, his scales were black.

Or, at least she'd thought so.

Then he'd begun muttering under his breath about itching. He'd raised a hind leg, stared at it suspiciously, and then hesitantly started to scratch. Apparently, the effect must have been positive because he'd then started scratching so aggressively his leg almost started to blur.

When long streaks of red started to appear amongst the black, Jour had a moment of panic, afraid he was injuring himself.

But then the streaks started to become wider, and the black began to flake and fall off onto the blanket and it suddenly clicked in her mind.

He wasn't a black dragon.

He was a red dragon, who was absolutely saturated in...something.

It wasn't the fluid from the egg, that was still wet and sticky. This, whatever it was, was completely dry and caked on his entire body.

"Hey," Deruth leaned forward and held out an extra large piece of steak he'd pulled from a pocket. "You'll hurt yourself if you keep that up."

The baby gave him a look that conveyed how very aware he was that Deruth was trying to distract him, but he also stopped scratching and reached out for the steak.

Once he had it, clutched in claws so small they could barely hold onto the piece, he rolled on his back, propped the morsel on his chest and started happily snacking on it.

Jour shared a look with Deruth, but he was just as confused as she was. How could he have been just born but be covered in some odd, dried substance that didn't seem to have come from the egg?

By the time they made it back to the estate, Roksu had finished the steak piece and was insistently raising his paws for more. Deruth gave him another and Jour carefully tucked the blanket back over and around him.

"Try to stay still," she said softly. "Just until we get somewhere private."

The carriage door was pulled open, and Jour saw Ron standing rigidly at attention. The man had only recently been hired as a footman but was already proving himself to be an amazing servant.

He seemed to have an innate understanding of the dress and etiquette of nobility that made Jour question if he'd been cast out from a noble family, and had the uncanny ability to materialize wherever needed almost seemingly before he had been summoned.

Deruth had already begun to speak of possibly having him serve as a valet or possibly even an under butler, something almost unheard of for a brand new servant with no referrals, but Ron was fast proving himself worthy.

The man bowed and greeted them as Deruth dismounted and turned to help Jour. "Lord and Lady Henituse. Welcome back. I hope your time out was pleasant."

A startled squawk rang out and Ron frowned, his eyes going toward the basket Jour held with an almost frightening speed and accuracy.

Jour smiled, and held the basket slightly closer to her side. "Thank you, Ron. We had a wonderful time."

A second, small squawk that sounded almost petulant rang out.

Deruth easily stepped between her and Ron, and diverted the other man's attention. "How were things while we were gone?"

"Unchanged," the man said. He fell in just behind them as they headed toward the doors where more servants were already holding them open. Behind them, maids were clearing out the carriage while the guards who'd accompanied them headed back toward the barracks.