Chapter 13: Five for TransformationTarquin was in a bed in the castle’s sickroom. Again. Sunlight poured through the window in a cheerful slant that could only mean early afternoon. He had no idea what day it was.
He blinked slowly, feeling sluggish and heavy and impossibly tired, though he was wonderfully cozy and warm. It looked like he’d been painted again, he noted with a small sigh. At this rate he might as well get tattooed and be done with it.
There was someone sitting on his bed.
He blinked again. The man looked familiar, as if Tarquin had just misplaced his features in his memory and he’d find them if he concentrated hard enough. The stranger was astonishingly handsome, despite the remarkable blue scales he had in place of skin. His hair was thick and jet-black, and his attract
