GINEVRA ;;
“Birds have only two legs though,” Ginevra pointed out, the hint of a teasing smile on their face. “As do bats. Anything with four legs and two wings would have six limbs all together, and that seems like far too many limbs to have.” They covered their mouth, laughing out loud at the idea of the poor, waddling dragon. “On this, I will defer to the Englishman. Just this once, though. I wouldn’t get used to being right.” They nodded, quite in agreement. “They’d certainly be hard to miss, if they were real at all. “I do not think that either of us will ever come face to face with a dragon in our lifetime. Or in anybody else’s, no matter the country. I’ve read in the East they have found the most curious bones though, large enough to belong to a dragon. Perhaps they all died out long before our time.” It was the most reasonable explanation Ginevra could think of, but something about it still seemed wrong.
“What did you do to her?” Ginevra placed their hands on their hips, shooting him a look of faux-disapproval. They suspected there was more to his words than he was letting on, but they would not pry. If he wished to joke about it, they would follow his lead. “This is the perfect time to win her over though, no? Let us find her a present that you can give to her, and see if that wins her over.”
Gin took the book back, and mimed swatting him over the head with it, though they stopped before making contact. “As honoured as I am to be your personal librarian, I beg you not to tempt me. I’ve been told I talk about books far too much, so unless you have trouble sleeping, I’d avoid the subject entirely.”
✘
ℭharles paused, tilting his head to the side in thought. He imagined his mastiff Warrick, who could be quite frightening when he wanted to be, but acted like a bumbling fool most of the time, with two wings. The poor dog would likely trip all over himself and his two extra limbs. ❝ You're right, ❞ he finally conceded. ❝ I suppose we'll just have to imagine that our dragons are moving around almost entirely through flight then. ❞
❝ Really? ❞ Charles asked, bemused. ❝ Bones in the East, ❞ he muttered to himself, mulling over the words. ❝ Did the books say where in the East? ❞ Charles queried. He'd make a note of whomever he knew from the country, and ask them about it later. ❝ How long ago do you think? Because is the world not only a few thousand years old? I do wonder what happened to them. ❞ There were many unsolved mysteries of the world that piqued his interest, though he usually didn't spend much time trying to decipher them. He might've once, years ago. He might've pestered his father and his eldest sister about it, gone to his tutors, but he was different now. His pride had closed those doors long ago.
❝ I am, as you know, a man of wit. Which some appreciate more than others. ❞ This was, once again, a non-answer. The kind of non-committal response that meant everything and nothing at the same time. It was, he supposed, less than Ginevra deserved, but they were clearly teasing him, and this was what he was comfortable with. ❝ Finding a present? That sounds like quite a bore. ❞ He spun around slowly in a circle, to get a look at the stalls around them. ❝ Do you drink as well as you read? ❞
