Chapter Four Hundred and Thirty-Two - Friends Like These

Booksie guided us to the sitting room in the back of the shop, a space where a few seats were tucked in between towering pillars of books. “Please, everybun, have a seat. I’ll go get the kettle,” Booksie said. She puttered around for a moment, making sure that we were all comfy and fetching lap blankets from a chest off to one side.

Then Booksie hurried off and I heard some clinking and clanking deeper in the shop. “She seems okay,” I said.

“I suppose,” Amaryllis said.

Booksie had a lot of nervous energy, but she didn’t seem hurt or anything. I didn’t get the feeling that she was upset or anything, just a little... maybe overwhelmed? Stressed? Maybe coming here wasn’t the best idea, if it added even more stress to her situation.

Then again, a good friend should visit their friends, especially when those friends are going through something stressful! No matter how it had gone down, getting proposed to and getting married had to be very stressful.

Booksie reappeared, carrying a steaming kettle and a tray covered in mugs. She set them down, then ran off only to return with a small box. “These are teas from out west. From Inkborough in Pyrowalk.”

“Oh, that’s far,” I said. “Are they known for their tea?”

“Hmm? No, not in particular, but it does taste a little different. I don’t know how it compares to some of the better teas you can buy, but it always tasted like home to me.” Booksie poured us each a mug, then noticed that she’d forgotten the cream and honey, and she ran off again.

It took a little while before we were all settled with warm mugs in hand and the room slowly filling with the scent of an unfamiliar tea.

Inkthistle tea, usable as a weak muscle relaxant, brewed by an amateur.

The tea wasn’t bad, though I did add a dab of honey, since it was a smidge bitter. “Did you want to talk about it?” I asked.

Booksie sighed over her mug, sending the rising plume of steam over it away. “I guess I should.”

“You don’t have to,” I hurried to say.

“Oh, I want to,” Booksie said. “It’s sad, but I haven’t made a single proper friend since we last saw each other.” She lowered her mug. “I have so many rants saved up.”

“Oh. in that case, rant away!” I said.

Booksie took a deep breath. “Right... I’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”

“Mhm,” I said with a nod.

Booksie blinked. “I don’t know where to start,” she said.

I giggled, and Awen joined it more quietly. It was a bit of a funny problem to have. “How about whatever’s annoying you the most?”

Booksie let out a long sigh. “I’ve been trying to talk with people, but lately it’s been so much harder. The only people that will talk to me are politicians. Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk to a diplomat?”

“No?” I asked.

Amaryllis snorted. “Yes,” she said.

I looked at her for an explanation, and Amaryllis rolled her eyes.

“Diplomats have a lot of social skills. Yes, a little like your Friendmaking or whatever, but they're specialised toward that field, so they have a lot more of those skills, and they're usually stronger. Give them two minutes to talk and you’ll feel like they’re your best friend ever. It ... usually wears off a few minutes later.”

“It leaves me feeling dirty,” Booksie said. “I’ve talked to diplomats from Deepmarsh and the Harpy Mountains. They’re about the only people that will talk to me, but all they want is endless placating nothingness. As if I have any sway on what Rhawr’s family will do. The only other person I’ve talked to lately who hasn’t been obviously two-faced is Cholondee.”

“She’s nice,” I said. “She saved us from pirates a few days ago.”

“Ah, that was you?” Booksie asked. “She’d mentioned something about pirates. I’m glad you made it over. Are you okay?”

“Yup! A few scuffs and scratches, but no injuries, and nothing we can’t fix!”

“Good, good,” Booksie said. “Cholondee has been nice. We’ve been shopping together, and I helped her with her bookkeeping, since she asked. She even paid me for it, which let me tell you, is quite something when it comes to dragons.”

“Dragons don’t pay well?” I asked.

“They have a saying, ‘family is family, but gold is shiny.’ It tells you a lot about them, I think,” Booksie said. “Anyway. Half the shops along the street have vacated, though none of them say it’s my fault. I barely get any customers anymore.”

“Oh no, that’s awful. Is the business okay?” I asked. I recalled her having a bit of difficulty with that.

“The city refused my property tax payments,” she said. “The landlord that owned this building gave it to me, as an early wedding gift. So my upkeep has never been lower.”

“That’s... nice?”

“I’m not going to complain about it, much, but it’s still frustrating. It was a little weird before Rhawr popped the question, but ever since then... urgh.”

“How did that happen, anyway? I wasn’t even sure if you two were really dating,” Amaryllis asked.

It was a little rude to just poke at the big question, but I had to admit that I was really-really curious too.

Booksie melted into her seat, cheeks turning more and more red and she pouted and refused to meet anyone’s eyes. She mumbled something, but even with my added ears, I didn’t catch it. She noticed that, then straightened a little. “It was an accident,” she said.

“A dragon accidentally proposed?” Amaryllis asked.

“A little.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay,” I said.

Booksie sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually anyway. See, we were reading together. We... do that, in the backyard. I have some blankets, and Rhawr likes it when I sit on him and read.” She cleared her throat. The blush had returned. “We were reading something a little romantic, and we were both talking about the story. It’s nice? Rhawr has... opinions about things, of course, and so do I, and often our reading time turns into long talks about whatever we’re reading.”

“That sounds nice,” I said encouragingly.

“Well, yes, it is. In any case, we were reading about a proposal, and one thing led to another, and I said yes.”

Booksie was still not meeting our eyes, and I was worried that with the amount of blood in her face at the moment, there might not be enough for the rest of her.

“I still don’t see how that was an accident,” Amaryllis said.

“He didn’t mean to!” Booksie said. “But I went and said yes! And I didn’t mean to either! I wasn’t thinking!” Booksie set her mug down, picked up a book, then started to clonk her head against it. “It was an accident!”

“Ah, couldn’t you just, uh, talk about it?” I asked.

“Dragons don’t undo what they say! They’re too proud! And I... maybe I don’t want to correct him.”

“So you want to get married?”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” Booksie kicked her legs out against the edge of her sofa, like a kid throwing a tantrum. “The last couple of weeks have been nothing but preparations and politics and... and dresses.”

“Dresses are nice,” I said.

“I know!” Booksie cried. “My wedding dress is beautiful.”

“Awa, that doesn’t seem, um, like something to cry about?” Awen said.

“It’s too pretty for me,” Booksie complained. “I’m just a bookstore bun. At best I should marry a librarian or another shopkeeper. Maybe a cobbler, not a dragon! The dress looks like something a princess would wear.”

“I think every girl wants to look like a princess on the day she gets married,” I said. “It’s not that bad, is it? Everybun should be allowed to look pretty, especially on their wedding day.”

Booksie sniffed. “Rhawr’s mom took over an island to the south and gave it to me. So technically I’m now a princess. A pitiful princess that rules over an island with some turtles on it.”

“That’s one way to become noble,” Amaryllis said. “Try not to make soup out of all of your subjects.”

“It’s because of some silly dragon tradition. Do you have any idea how complicated wedding organisation is? Dragon weddings are even more complicated, especially since I had to insist that no one eat the guests!”

“This might not be a good time to mention it,” I said. “But one of the reasons we came was to warn you that there might be a small attack on the day of your wedding. Or maybe an assassination attempt by some very mean, no-good people that want to start a big war.”

Booksie stared at me. She leaned forward, putting the book she’d used to smack herself on the head down, then she picked up a cushion. After mashing her face into it, she started to scream.

I stood and scooted over to the sofa she was on, squeezing in next to her for sidehugs and backrubs. “Hey, hey, it’s not that bad. We’re here to help! Amaryllis can take care of the political people, and Awen can maybe check out the venue, and I’ll clean things up and we’ll figure it all out together, okay?”

Booksie muffled a final scream into the cushion before pulling away, her hair was tousled, her eyes were red, and her ears were wilted. She looked at me, then at Amaryllis, and finally at Awen. “You're here to help?”

“Of course,” Amaryllis said, setting down her cup of tea. “We've got your back, Booksie. And if some villains try to sabotage your wedding, well, they'll have to get through us first.”

I eyed Amaryllis for a moment. That was very supportive of her. Suspiciously so. Usually Amaryllis complained a lot more before helping a friend out anyway.

Awen was nodding next to her, adding her silent support to what Amaryllis had said.

Booksie seemed to take a deep breath, visibly steeling herself. “Well, if I am going to go through with this marriage to a dragon and an accidental princesshood of... of Turtle Island, then I suppose it's a comfort to know I'm not doing it alone. I don’t think I’ve ever missed home as much as I do now.”

“You're definitely not alone,” I assured her, giving her one last comforting squeeze before letting go. “Do you have any family in Pyrowalk?”

“None that I’d want to see here,” she said with a sigh. “Rhawr offered to fly anyone over. Whether they want to come or not. But I’d really rather not have family tied to chairs watching me. Plus, it’s far. There are other dragons with territory between here and there, and that would complicate things.”

“That’s... nice of him,” I said.

Booksie frowned, then looked at me. “Who are these assassins you mentioned?”

“Ah, that one’s complicated,” I said. “We learned about them in the Snowlands. They’re probably working for Rainnewt. He’s a big mean riftwalker that’s trying to make a big mess of things. They were trying to ship weapons to here, but I think we foiled their plans a little bit.”

“That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t play it safe,” Amaryllis said.

Booksie nodded. “It might be for the best. Cholondee really wanted to help, but... well, she’s learning how to control the mob, I don’t know if I want her working on wedding planning. But security? I think she can manage that.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about the mob, the dragon-controlled mob, being in charge of security. After a bit of thought, I decided to feel safe about it. It was better than nothing, and it was nice that Cholondee wanted to help.

Brooksie looked around at us, her eyes moist. "Thank you, everybun, you're the best friends I could possibly ask for." her face took on newfound determination. "Together, I think we can turn this accidental wedding into a happily ever after."

***