The Marquise Teresa descended from the carriage, her hand on the forearm of one of the menservants. They were all subdued and wearing black bands of mourning on their right upper arms.<br/><br/>The horses snorted and danced in the harnesses uneasily, and the Marquise was forced to grip the manservant – Peters, she recalled – quite firmly as the steps moved while she stepped down.<br/><br/>She didn’t bother snapping at the carriage driver. She knew what had caused the disturbance, even before the shadow scurries across the ground.<br/><br/>A Great Dragon dropped from the sky, tan wings batting the air and tearing her veil back. It was a little taller than the carriage horses, and longer in the body. Scales glinted dully in the afternoon sun, and its eyes were deep and intelligent.<br/><br/>“Sampson,” she said, addressing the dragon directly, “go back to your roost. You’re scaring the horses.”<br/><br/>The dragon didn’t move away, its large head tilting and craning to see around the Marquise, as if expecting another person to pop out of the carriage. He was waiting for his rider. Dragons were intelligent beasts, but ‘death’ was a concept they didn’t accept well. At least he wasn’t pining yet.<br/><br/>She moved inside, handing her gloves, veil and hat to a maid. “Is Audrey still in bed?”<br/><br/>“Yes m’lady,” came the soft confirmation.<br/><br/>“Good. Send up strong tea, and light food. I need to speak with her.” The maid bobbed a curtsy and a footman closed the door on the sight of Sampson poking his head cautiously inside the carriage. The Marquise sighed and started to climb the stairs to her granddaughter’s room.<br/>