Or not.
“You will do fine, sire. Just remember that you are king.” Stas’s lips twitched with humor. “If you don’t like someone, you can always have their wings clipped.”
Ivo lifted his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I can what?”
“It is an ancient practice, sire, but one you may wish to consider keeping around. It is nearly impossible to punish someone who can melt the bars off a jail cell. As such, a form of punishment was developed that keeps a dragon on the ground.”
Ivo couldn’t wait to hear this. “Go on.”
“Dragons have a susceptibility to iron, sire. It weakens them. That is why they tend to melt items made of iron instead of handling them.”
Ivo almost smiled, glad he had chosen silver for the ring he had in his pocket, the one he planned to give Vitki at the assembly tonight after he became king. He wanted the entire world to know the man had been claimed, even the human one.
“When a dragon’s wings are clipped, an iron loop is placed in each ear.”
“Like an earring?”
“Exactly, sire.”
“Okay, go on.”
“It prevents them from shifting, sire.”
Ivo remembered that Vitki had an earring in his ear and wondered if he was being punished for something. And then he remembered that it was silver, not iron.
“For a dragon, it can be an effective form of punishment. It is non-lethal, and allows those being punished to continue in their lives. The loss of the ability to fly may seem strange to someone who has never flown, but for those of us who grew up shifting into dragons, it can be heartbreaking. Most crimes are never repeated after someone has had their wings clipped.”
“Yes, I can see how it would be.”
“As I said, sire. It may be a punishment you might wish to keep, at least for now.”
Ivo nodded. He really didn’t like the idea of punishing anyone, but to keep his family safe, he’d do what he had to. He had already shown that when his dragon obliterated Yuval.
“It is time, sire.”
Ivo lifted his hand to his head, feeling suddenly light-headed. He so wasn’t ready for this. “I don’t have to say anything, right?”
“Correct, sire. Král Maxmilián will already be on the funeral pyre when we arrive. Once you give the command, your Dýkawill light the pyre. Silence is observed until the pyre burns down to ash.”
“What happens to the ashes?”
“The ashes are placed in a specially made satchel. Your Dýka will fly them into the sky and scatter them across the valley.”
Ivo’s jaw dropped. “That’s what Vitki meant.”
“Sire?”
“He told me that the land would welcome Max back, her rich soil giving him a peace he could not have found anywhere else.”
“Oh.” Stas nodded. “Yes, sire. That is correct.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think he meant it literally.”
“I find that Vitki does not often say things he does not mean. He is a man of much honor.”
Ivo smiled. “Yeah, he is, isn’t he?”
He couldn’t ask for a better mate.
