DRAKENFELL — BELLATRIX'S PARLOR - ONE DAY LATER
Onyx's gold eyes were wide open, every trace of fake sleep abandoned. His small body was rigid in the queen's lap, his wings pressed tight, his tail wrapped around her forearm. The dragon was terrified and the terror was aimed at the eastern sky.
Avalon, who had been dozing on his cushion near Petra, lifted his head. His silver eyes locked on something out the window. A low, rattling hiss left his throat that Petra had never heard and never wanted to hear again.
"My son has scared these poor babies with that schedule, Petra. Look at them."
"They do seem stressed, Your Majesty," Petra agreed.
Bellatrix gave Onyx a flat look. "My son doesn't come in this Parlor. Neither does my husband. This is a safe space."
Petra poured the wine. The pouring was the only thing keeping her face professional. The words "safe space" coming from Bellatrix Drakenfell was a new development and also slightly funny.
