In several ways, Luther and Prince Elias seemed almost suited for each other. Both beautiful. Both not taking duty seriously. Perhaps King Alaric should have arranged for them to marry each other. Then they could live a life being irresponsible and beautiful together.
“I don’t know why Luther keeps complaining about Warden Onyx. I don’t see any problems with him.” Gerard sipped his glass of red wine. “And I don’t understand why Luther makes such a point of trying to antagonise him.”
Senta sighed. “I know. I wanted to slap Luther when he was so obviously trying to get a rise out of the warden earlier.”
The four siblings had been talking when Warden Onyx had approached. Luther had ignored his future spouse completely.
“Perhaps they’d get along better if Luther would just grow up and act like a fucking adult for once,” Senta said.
“Drinking less would probably help too,” Gerard added.
She fixed her gaze on Luther. “At least he doesn’t seem too drunktonight.”
“He does look miserable though,” Gerard said. “About as miserable as Warden Onyx.”
Since this was Luther and the warden’s betrothal ball, they’d had to dance together earlier. They’d gotten through that without either of them throwing a punch. Although, honestly, it looked like they’d both wanted to.
Now they seemed to be avoiding each other entirely, standing at opposite ends of the ballroom.
Gerard wondered if he would be as miserable with whoever he ended up with. He scanned the crowd. He touched a finger to his mother’s ring hidden beneath his clothes.
It was a rather plain ring, bearing the scuffs and marks it had accumulated over many years.
His mother had not been high-born. She’d been a by-blow of a noble dragon lord passing through her family’s village. But she’d grown up to be an incredibly powerful dragon, far stronger than even her father and his legitimate children. So her father had recognised her publicly as his offspring and brought her to court.
King Alaric Drachen had ignored her birth and upbringing, instead focusing on her power and potential to strengthen his bloodline. He’d married her, and she had provided him with five children, including Gerard, before she died.
The ring had been made by his mother’s maternal grandfather. A parting gift when she’d left her village for court, a memory of her home. Gerard had always treasured it. He wondered if he would end up giving it to his future spouse.
He dropped his hand. He hoped whoever he married would not be too displeased with him or his appearance. He glanced at the different potential royal spouses fromBotanial, Zephyrias, and Voltaria. Once again, Gerard’s gaze settled on Prince Elias. He swallowed.
That would be a terrible match.
Unfortunately, Gerard knew Prince Elias could be who he ended up marrying. But he hoped it wouldn’t be him. Marrying someone plain would be difficult enough. Gerard marrying someone so stunning felt ridiculous.
“Do you think Konrad is right? Do you think the necromancers are plotting against us all?” Senta asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t like the necromancers. But it seems no one does.” Gerard leaned against the balustrade and looked down at the shadow king and queen of Necros, dressed unsurprisingly all in black.
They spoke with Grand Healer Eveline, the head of the healer monks. Everyone but the monks avoided those from Necros. In fact, the other kingdoms seemed more accepting of the dragons, their literal recent enemies, than the necromancers.
“And they are difficult to spy on, which makes it harder to determine if they are up to something,” Gerard said.
Senta sighed. “Well, we have to keep trying. Especially after what happened at Prince Ash and Lord Morton’s wedding.”
During the first of the marriages to seal the peace treaty, Princess Lantana Rosewood of Botanial, who was also Prince Ash’s aunt, had attacked Lord Morton, King Alaric, and Queen Consort Adelina. She’d carried a grudge against the dragons for the death of her husband and children that occurred during the war.
“A lot of people do hate us,” Gerard said.
“We did kill a lot of people during the war.”
“And a lot of our own were killed.” Gerard stared intohis wine. “I’m glad the war is over. I’m glad we can put a stop to all that.”
Senta lifted her goblet. “I’ll drink to that.”
Gerard toasted, and they both drank.
Senta’s gaze roamed the lower level. She grimaced. “Fire and bloody fucking flames.”
