To Marry a Dragon

21. So Hear Me Out

Ferrante was nervous about speaking in front of the commissioners, let alone an audience of hundreds of inquiring minds.

Unfortunately, a Dragon Scholar versus the Guild of One True Enigma proved irresistible to the citizens of Rotdaam. The hearing had to be moved into the largest of the University's lecturing halls, and there still was standing room only.

The gnome's love of curving lines was clear in the hall's design. The students' benches raised up from the circular lecturing platform in an amphitheater to the domed ceiling. From its middle hung a wheel-like chandelier covered with alchemical light-globes. The windows, with three segmented long sections, ended up in arches. He couldn't see a single sharp corner. And the ceiling floated higher above his head than he had seen even in the cathedrals.

The jewel-bright colors assaulted him on all sides: the desks, the patterns on the walls, and the clothes. Light have mercy, the clothes! His black hose and leather jerkin looked drab in comparison.

Luckily Professor Rubenius excused him for two days from dragon-shifting, so his head stopped spinning. He suspected that the Professor didn't do it out of altruism, but more to save the lives of the medical faculty, because Ferrante found it harder and harder to restrict the urge to boil the human skin off and fly, raining fire and brimstone at everything in his path.

The vestiges of dragon-rage lingered, so Ferrante looked from Rubenius to Lukrezia. Alas, the sight wasn't calming. Tybalt stood next to her, all condescending smiles and cherry-red lips, talking, talking, talking.

With the other gnome chewing off her ear, all Lukrezia could offer Ferrante was a quick nod. He wanted to scoot over for a friendly word, but the clerk blew a brassy note on his pipe, announcing the commissioners' arrival.

Lukrezia's voice echoed in his ear, "Don't waylay those who mean you no harm."

He squinted, surprised, but then he took in the lecture hall. The ranks and file lined up on the benches, the combative atmosphere hidden behind the polite smiles, the glowering eyes. This was a battlefield, just an unconventional sort. A joust, perhaps, or a sparring match.

Yes, that's what Tybalt was, his sparring partner, and he didn't mind leaving a few bruises on his uptight butt.

Ferrante gave Lukrezia a crooked grin and charged to the pulpit facing the Commissioners to give his opening statement.

"Respected Commissioners..."

After those two words that made sense, he sailed through without paying attention to most of what he was repeating after Lukrezia.

He watched Tybalt's face instead. Strangely, the man's smile wasn't artificial. Either he was enjoying the proceedings, or he was a superb actor.

Or he had an ace up his embroidered sleeve. Also, Tybalt looked at Lukrezia every time Ferrante paused. Is he suspecting us of cheating?

This nearly tripped Ferrante's never too glib tongue, but he muddled through the last sentences, without Lukrezia having to repeat them twice.

"Since Dame Elvira is no longer a Princess, the contract is of no practical value to the land of Gallicia or the Lord Protector of the Gallician Royal Family. Thus, the debate must be about the intrinsic value of love, and if it supersedes anything else that the contract might protect."

A deep sigh burst out of his chest. That's it, thanks the Light.

Tybalt advanced forward and opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. "If my friend wishes to debate the value of romantic love, my answer is concise. It is null."