“Tell them that war is coming and they need to prepare. The nobles might try to enlist them. They should flee to the other enclaves or come to me in the crown city, and I will protect them as best I can.”
The man lifted his chin and pounded his fist on his chest. “You are our king, Sire. Chosen by might and divine allowance. They are bastard traitors to move against you. Law-breakers, and therefore, criminals. I will spread the word, and then I will go with you to Renris where I will fight for you, Your Majesty.”
I blinked. “No, protect your family. You're not a soldier. I will not see you die for me.”
“That only makes me more certain that my offer is the right thing to do. And I know there will be others like me. You'll see, Your Majesty. We outnumber the nobles. We may not be trained to fight, but we are still Dragons!”
“Well said, Rudago!” my father exclaimed and applauded.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Now, if I may be excused, I will deliver that message.”
“Yes, go,” I said. “And thank you for your loyalty. It means more than you know.”
Rudago bowed once more and hurried away.
“They're amassing an army?” my mother nearly shrieked.
“Let's sit down,” my father said. Then he shouted, “Refreshments, please!”
We headed into one of the many sitting rooms in the mansion, and my father closed the heavy wood door behind us. My mother, over her initial shock, bared her teeth. Female Dragons tend to be even more vicious than the males. Usually, she was sweet, but if you threatened her family, my mother turned into a beast. Literally. I must have gotten that from her. My father was more level-headed.
“How much time do we have?” Father asked.
“I'm not sure. They tried to murder me last night. My knights were in on it,” I said.
“Your knights?!” my mother roared.
“Jaclene,” my father said in a calming tone. “Lyrandir is safe, and I'm sure he handled it properly.”
“I killed them all, then dismissed my remaining King's Guard and sent them home with the remains as a warning,” I said.
“You see?” My father waved at me. “He handled it properly.”
“Properly?” my mother hissed. “I would have torn those traitors into tiny pieces while they screamed for mercy, then made those so-called knights pack the pieces and take them home to shove into the faces of the nobility.”
I cleared my throat as Aras laughed.
“You find that funny?” My mother widened her eyes at my mate.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Aras said. “Because that is exactly what your son did. He tore those bastards apart and made his ex-knights pack the pieces and bring them here.”
“Oh.” My mother's rage turned to pride as she focused on me. “Good boy.”
“Wetore them apart,” I said as I took Aras's hand. “Aras refused to stay in the carriage. He stood at my back the entire time, killing his fair share.”
“You killed Dragons?” My father stepped up to Aras, an unreadable expression on his face.
Aras straightened. “Yes, Your Grace. I had to. They were attacking the King.”
“I'm not chiding you, my boy.” He laid a hand on Aras's shoulder. “I'm impressed. A Hulfrin killing Dragons. No offense, but I didn't think it was possible.”
I widened my eyes at my father, subtly reminding him that Aras wasn't entirely Hulfrin anymore. He had a touch of my strength running through him now. My father blinked, his mouth opening slightly with comprehension, then nodded. Still, my mate was impressive.
“Well done, Aras.” He slapped Aras's shoulder and returned to my mother's side.
Aras grinned at me as he said, “It must have been fear for my lover giving me strength. I felt . . . unstoppable.”
Damn it all! I need to tell him.
