Ghreid
The first light of dawn invaded his window. The full moon the night before, a blinding thing that made Ghreid very aware of his mate, but the passion wasn’t there. With the news they’d gotten the days before, it was no surprise that the lust and urgency didn’t come. Instead, they spent the night cuddled together, hand on his belly, wondering what the future would hold as Draenvir went on his way with Graylan the night before.
“Graylan seemed in a rush to leave, didn’t he?” Ghreid frowned. “Juicy gossip to spread among the elite?”
“Mnn, nooooo.” Varis rolled over in bed and nuzzled up under Ghreid’s chin. “It was a full moon last night.”
“Surely…” Ghreid glanced at Varis with brows raised in surprise.
Varis shrugged. “Graylan’s anything but careful. He cares for Slath. Relentlessly.”
Ghreid grumbled. “He’s older than dirt and was there for Slath’s hatching.”
Varis’s face twisted. “That part is…unsettling. Sure. Nobody wants to tell me why Kineer had words against the two being together, though.”
Ghreid frowned. “It’s hard to tell who is a bearer at birth sometimes. With Slath, he was a bearer quite obviously, and Father was very protective. There was a laundry list of males banned from Slath’s presence.”
“Seems fitting. Slath had the same to say. Graylan was a single male in his council, and Kineer was protective. Especially seeing as Graylan lost his first mate.” Varis picked at a loose thread on their covers.
“That’s an exaggeration. His first mate rejected him. Graylan’s terrifying to humans. He looks like a demon.” Ghreid shrugged. “And he’s not aesthetically pleasing by dragon standards. I’m surprised Slath wants him at all, seeing how he reveres visual beauty.”
“Seems more like Pryd’s territory, that. Slath seems to find beauty in everything. Gods know I’m a mishmash of colors and strangeness.”
“But you’re gorgeous. You’ve no idea how beautiful you truly are.” Ghreid pinned Varis to the bed, letting his tail free to swish it about playfully. The sinking cushions of feathers preceded a sparkle of dust in the rays of light, glittering about his mate’s face. With a gentle twist of his lips, Varis caught those sparkles and was beautiful. They danced in his amber eyes, and Ghreid found it more appealing than any treasure. “My love.”
They leaned in to kiss, when a sharp rapping on their door paused the display of affection. As a snarl balled up in his throat, Ghreid snapped, “Yes, Rydel?”
“Ordinarily I’d not interrupt your morning coitals, my lord, but we have dignitaries from Rammolia here and they do not seemfriendly.” Rydel’s polite voice strained on the other side of the door, and he cleared his throat nervously.
Varis grumbled, and Ghreid slid from bed, summoning Rydel in as he tossed aside his nightshirt and strode into his closet to pick clothing out.
For his mate’s part, however, dressing was far easier with a smaller selection. He slid into one of his flowing tunics, so complementary of his form and accommodating for the swell of his belly to come.
They donned the adornments for their horns and sought out to meet their guests, Varis still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and lamenting their lost mood. “I wish our guests could have paid their respects at a more seemly hour.”
“The sun is up, so business commences,” Rydel said, his voice petering out in an annoyed fashion before gesturing toward the sitting parlor. “In here.”
The room hadn’t been fully furnished yet, only the bare minimum, a room waiting for Varis’s keen eye and Ghreid’s things from the castle to fill every wall with a gaudy amount of finery. After all, Ghreid could be rather magpie-like.
In the parlor sat a stone-faced emissary, several guards of a lackluster display, and an aging male with an appearance bearing passing resemblance to Asha. Perhaps it was the chin or the shape of the face. His dark-brown hair bore streaks of gray that kissed his temples, one of which gnarled into a rather unseemly scar. He turned his gaze upon them without so much as an ounce of respect, palest blue eyes so eerily empty as he stared. “We’ve been waiting for eleven minutes.”
Ghreid, grateful he wasn’t one for witty banter, gave a nod of acknowledgment. “I do apologize for you feeling disrespected.”
“Iamdisrespected. Waiting is the least of my problems. Where is my nephew?” A sneer twisted the king’s face.
“King Tauf, I suppose you mean Asha?” Varis cleared his throat and earned a sneer.
“And who is this meager servant addressing me?” King Tauf gestured at Varis, who tensed and quite visibly bit his tongue to keep from lashing out.
“First prince to the first Rashiz, Dal Varis.” Ghreid’s mate gave a gentle bow of his head. “And no servant am I, but a dragon, mate to a prince of Sauria. Your nephew is mated to King Mezerath and they are currently in Sauria.”
King Tauf gave a snort of disdain. “What sort of dowry did you pay for this one that you couldn’t offer for this…Asha. My brother had already intended for a son and had set aside a name. Asha is a lowly sneer of a title. He would have been a duke, first house of Rammolia, named for our father, Artelius.”
“That’s all well and good, but you sent his mother away and she became a ward of Monsmount and as such, her child was unclaimed. Homage has been paid to King Reigh.”
“But we had no way of knowing there was a child so soon. No missive was written to us and even when we knew, her father spoke of the matter as infidelity. It’s clear the boy is Rammolian royalty.” Tauf slammed his hand on an end table.
“Then that matter is best negotiated with his mate. I’m in no position to—” Ghreid spoke, but Tauf spoke over him.
