He turned and headed for the bakery, smiling when he saw Vitki frown at him before hurrying in his direction.
“Ivo?”
Ivo smiled brightly at the man. “Vitki.”
Vitki waved his hand back toward the viewing stand. “Everyone is waiting for you.”
“Why? I am here. The funeral can begin.”
Vitki’s sigh was a long, suffering one. “Lásko,I know you want to change the world, and I am in full support of that, but you must wait until you are king. To rebel against our traditions now would bring censure you do not need.”
Well, fuck a duck.
Ivo glared at Vitki. “I hate it when you make sense.”
Vitki smiled. “Yes, sire.”
“Let me at least say hi to Stas’s family.”
Vitki’s lips thinned, but he nodded.
Ivo walked over to Fredrick, shaking his hand. The pride on the man’s face as he introduced his twin girls was one Ivo couldn’t wait to see on Vitki’s. Ivo nodded to each girl, giving them a friendly smile and telling them how much he valued their father’s counsel. Ivo wasn’t sure if they were old enough to understand, but Fredrick and Stas were.
Knowing everyone was waiting on him, Ivo said his good-byes and then walked with Vitki to the throne-like chair waiting for him in the center of the stand. After Ivo sat, Vitki took up a position just to the right of him, Miro taking the left.
Ivo waited for everyone to quiet down and then stood. He gazed toward the man wrapped in white on the top of the funeral pyre. He had to swallowed several times before he could speak the words Stas had taught him.
“We come here today to honor Maxmilián Vítkovský, Král of the Vítkovský Clan. May his soul fly to the heavens to watch over us in death as he did in life.” Ivo glanced over his shoulder to Vitki. “As the only living heir and the grandson of Maxmilián Vítkovský, I have chosen to light the pyre myself to honor my grandfather.”
There was some rumbling in the crowd, but no one seemed to outright hate the idea. Remembering what he had been told, Ivo stepped down from the viewing stand and went to stand in front of the pyre.
He had never actually shifted into his true dragon form except for when he killed Yuval, and even that had not been a full shift. Vitki had explained to him that he did not actually have to shift to spit fire, but he wanted to.
Ivo looked inward as Vitki had instructed him to do. He knew the moment he connected with his dragon, almost if the beast had been waiting for him. Ivo was no longer afraid of the entity that lived inside of him. He understood that he had been born a dragon shifter, but his dragon hadn’t come out of his slumber until Ivo came home.
His dragon stirred and then roared to life. Ivo’s breath caught when his muscles stretched and bones shifted and realigned themselves. He was surprised it didn’t hurt. He was even more surprised that the flames that consumed him didn’t burn him.
Smoke billowed out of his nostrils and Ivo found himself looking through eyes not his own. He wasn’t sure if it was him or his dragon that glanced to the right to look at Vitki.
The roar he let loose was all dragon.
Possessive bastard.
Ivo felt funny as he took a step toward the pyre. Walking on all fours was odd. He sniffed at the body on the pyre. Ivo was shaken by the sadness that filled him before the dragon let loose with a fireball that lit up everything around him.
When he stepped back, the fire had burned so hot Maxmilián Vítkovský, Král of the Vítkovský Clan, was only a memory.
Ivo breathed deeply as Vitki had taught him. Little by little, his vision cleared and he once again found himself standing on two feet. He was glad his clothes didn’t get destroyed when he shifted, especially considering he stood in front of a couple of hundred people.
Ivo watched the pyre burn a bit more before turning and returning to his spot on the viewing stand. He felt Vitki’s shoulder bump against his in silent support. He wished he could wrap himself around Vitki, but that wasn’t possible until he was declared king.
Once the fire had burned down—which really didn’t take as long as Ivo had thought it would—and the ashes were collected, no one had moved. Ivo knew now was the time to make his stand.
“Stas.”
“Yes, sire?” the man asked as he stepped forward.
“I want the leads read out.”
Stas’s eyebrows rose. “Now, sire?”
“Everyone is here now. Why wait?”
Stas had a wrinkled frown between his eyebrows, but he nodded. “Very good, sire.”
The reading of the royal house lineage was a long one. Ivo was pretty sure it took longer than it did to burn the wood on the pyre. Once it was done, silence hung in the air as all eyes turned to Ivo.
He glanced at Vitki, who gave him a nod. Ivo stood and walked to the top step of the viewing stand. He folded his hands behind his back and gazed out over those assembled.
“My name is IvoKoubek,and I am Král of the Vítkovský Clan.”
