“You’re late.”
Julius wasnotlate. Thanks to Bob, he was actually precisely on time for the eight a.m. meeting. Now didn’t seem like a good time to argue, though, so he let it slide, flashing his sister his most polite smile. “May I come in?”
Frieda stepped to the side, holding the door wide to accommodate Julius’s sword as he stepped into his mother’s receiving room, which lookedverydifferent than it had when Bob had sent him in here to change clothes last night. Then, it had been an impressive showcase of gaudy golden furniture, endangered animal skins, tables too ornate to actually hold things, and other trophies of Bethesda’s expensive and questionable taste. Now, it was an even bigger mess than the throne room.
Every piece of furniture—the silk couches, the gilt mirrors, even the wrought-iron fireplace grate—had been smashed beyond recognition. The damask-papered walls were shredded, and the Persian rug had been burned almost beyond recognition. One of the corners was actually still smoking, and Julius quickly moved away, joining Frieda on the only remaining clear stretch of floor.
“What happened?”
Frieda looked at him as if he were stupid. “Mother.”
Julius winced. Before last night, he never would have believed Bethesda would do something like this to her property. Other people’s stuff, sure, but never her own. Apparently, she was taking her reduced power even worse than he’d anticipated.
“It’s been this way all night,” Frieda continued, kneeling down to resume sweeping up the shattered remains of what had been a crystal brandy decanter with matching tumblers. “She’s very upset.”
Her dirty look made it clear she blamed Julius for that, but while his heart went out to his sister, he refused to apologize for Bethesda’s temper tantrum. “Where is she?”
“In the lounge,” she said, tossing the broken glass into the bucket beside her. “Down the hall, first door on the left. Try not to make her any angrier. We’re running out of furniture.”
There was no way he could promise that, so Julius just thanked his sister and walked through the door she’d indicated, carefully stepping over the rest of the broken glass as he made his way deeper into the Heartstriker’s lair.
He didn’t have to go far. Despite being the private quarters of the (former) head of the largest dragon clan in the world, Bethesda’s apartments were still situated at the peak of a thorn-like mountain. That didn’t leave much space for extra rooms once you accounted for her egg-laying chamber and private gold vault. Julius had actually been hoping he’d get to see that last one. He was still a dragon, after all, and the piles of gold Bethesda famously liked to lounge on were the stuff of legend. Unfortunately for his curiosity, his mother was exactly where Frieda had said she’d be: sprawled on a leather fainting couch in a smoky, red-velvet-covered room that, though ripped in places, was still mostly intact.
This was an improvement over the hurricane-level destruction of the entry room. After looking around, though, Julius couldn’t help but wish she’d wrecked this room as well. Maybe if she’d beaten the velvet couches and copious nude paintings a bit more, he’d have been able to ignore the fact that he was basically standing in what could only be described as his mother’s boudoir. It didn’t help that the silk dressing gown she was wearing fit the scene perfectly, falling off her shoulders in a way that didn’t quite leave her naked, but still revealed way more of his mother than Julius wouldeverbe comfortable seeing. Which, knowing Bethesda, was precisely why she’d worn it.
“Well, well, well,” she growled, her green eyes glowing in the low light. “My illustrious co-ruler arrives at last.”
Julius sighed. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but he’d hoped his mother’s natural lust for power would encourage her to at least try working within the new system, if only to figure out how to game it. Clearly, even that was too optimistic. Bethesda didn’t look ready to do anything except eat him alive. She was also, he realized suddenly, not alone.
“You know David, of course,” she said, waving her hand at the dragon sitting in the enormous armchair in the corner. “Senator of New Mexico.”
“Of course,” Julius said. Other than Bethesda, David—a five-term senator and the first dragon ever to be elected to public office in the United States—was the most famous Heartstriker, at least among mortals. He played the part perfectly, too. Where most dragons did everything they could to emphasize their position at the top of the food chain, David did the opposite. His smile was trustworthy rather than predatory, and his dark hair had been dyed strategically gray at the temples to make him look less eternally young. Like all dragons, he was still ridiculously handsome, but in an approachable way, the kind of man you’d trust to look after your house, or your country. But unlike the rest of the voting population, Julius was also a dragon. Good as the ruse was, he could spot the hunter’s gleam in David’s bright-green eyes as he stood up to offer Julius his hand.
“I’m happy to meet you at last,” he said warmly, giving Julius a crushing handshake. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” Julius said, glancing at his mother, who bared her teeth. “But, um, this is supposed to be a Council meeting, so—”
“Why do you think he’s here?” Bethesda snapped, giving Julius the look she saved for her especially stupid children. “He’s going to be our third seat.”
Julius jerked in surprise. “What?”
“I was honored to be asked,” David said, his deep voice smooth as silk. “And delighted to accept. I’m happy to do whatever I can to aid our clan in these troubled times.”
“Spoken like a true politician,” Bethesda said proudly. “But you can drop the act, dear. It’s only Julius.”
David flashed their mother a smile that almost, but didn’t quite, reach his eyes. Julius, however, was putting a stop to this right now.
“I’m happy you’re not fighting the Council anymore,” he said to his mother, pulling out the folded-up charter Bob had just given him. “But you can’t just make David part of the Council. It clearly says right here that the third seat must to be elected by a majority vote of the—”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Bethesda scoffed. “I’m still sealed, and I don’t getunsealeduntil this stupid Council is complete. David is more than qualified. He’s also the highest-ranking Heartstriker without a Fang other than Amelia, and his popularity with the upper alphabet clutches gives him loads of internal support.” She flashed her son a proud smile. “He was actually my second suspect for potential coups after Amelia, but you and Bob beat him to the punch.”
David chuckled. “You should thank them for that, Mother.Iwas planning to kill you in your sleep.”
“I almost wish you had,” Bethesda said. “At leastyouwould have managed a proper draconic overthrow instead of this mess.”
They both had a good laugh over that, and Julius, who already felt sick to his stomach, decided to just move on. “It doesn’t matter how good he is or how much support he’s got,” he said firmly. “There still has to be a vote.”
“And there will be,” Bethesda said. “Or haven’t you noticed the Heartstriker migration?” She gestured at the boudoir’s tiny window, where the shadows of dragon wings flickered almost constantly in the morning light. “I called everyone in last night. By noon, the whole clan should be assembled. Once I’ve got everyone together, I’ll explain what happened, tell everyone how to vote, and this Council nonsense will be resolved.” She grinned. “I’ll have my wings back by sunset. Assuming the bag of hot air I call daughter can actually undo the seal she put on me.”
