She had to pause to take it all in—here under a gazebo surrounded by stars and water, a dragon wanted to serve her tea. Tea party with a dragon. Why not. She sat down on the metal chair. Its legs scraped on the stone as she scooted in. The dragon took up the kettle from its little decorative doily using two claws. The kettle was tiny to him, like it belonged to one of those figurines with the play set you could fold up and put in your pocket. He poured some tea into her cup, then his own, and with a delicate claw he nudged a plate full of sugar cubes in her direction. She waved off the sugar.
Rebecca held up her teacup—cheers—and took a sip.
