Previously I’ve been able to redirect the water myself in years of severe flooding, but my council has advised I need to be mindful of how much magic I tap into. Now more than ever.
A knock at the door behind me disrupts my distant thoughts, and I inch up off the chair. “Yes, come in.”
Heavy footsteps sound in a pattern I’m all too familiar with. Devin—my General. His skill and knowledge nearly exceeds mine, and at my low points I often wish he’d be the one filling my boots. If it weren’t for his relentless convincing of what it’ll take to save this kingdom—what I am bound to by duty—this day wouldn’t have come.
And I wouldn’t be four knuckles deep in whiskey.
“My King,” he says as he rounds the armchair to face me. He eyes the glass in my hand, then assesses me with precision. “Forgive me for being so casual on a night such as this, but what in thehellsare youdoing?”
Snorting, I lean back into the chair and lift the glass to him in silent respect. “Having myself a drink. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You’re expected to be in the throne room within the hour. You’re not even dressed…and since when do you drink?”
I throw the entire drink back, gulping it down until it’s gone. With a hissing sigh, I set the glass down on the chair’s arm. “Not dressed? Devin, do you not know the difference between clothed and naked?”
“Humor?” He tilts his head to the side. “Are you…drunk?”
Sighing, I swing my legs off the ottoman and rise to my full height, easily a head over my general. I hand him the glass. “No. Though, I suppose I wish I could be.”
When he takes the glass, his expression softens to pity. And Gods above, does it curl my stomach. I can’t stand anyone pitying me.
“Cyrus…” he mutters. That’s how I know he’s on the path to scolding. When he drops the formality of our relationship with a sigh. “These women are our best chance. We’ve hand-selected each one for you. Haven’t we gotten past this? We’re too far along to call it off.”
Funny. You’d think the so-called King of the Dragon Landswouldbe able to call something like this off. To call anything off. But apparently even a king has a limit on his powers. Or, at least someone like me does. Someone who can’t be trusted to hold complete and utter power.
It is just as much my own boundary as it is my council’s. A necessary precaution. My mother and father were murdered long ago by my uncle, King Aaric, who rules the southern half of our realm—Arterias. I rule the northern half called the Dragon Lands, where dragons roam free and being a bonded rider isn’t a death sentence.
My uncle and I might share a sliver of the same blood, but the rest is vastly different. Different enough to pose a potential threat. A risk that cannot go unchecked.
So I lean on Devin and his suggestions. Trusting that, with him knowing all my darkest secrets, he can provide me with an unbiased opinion. A logical and calculated plan of how best to secure our kingdom and dragonkind.
I sigh and grumble, “What was it you said the other day? For the kingdom and the Gods?”
He brushes my collar down against my shoulder, ignoring my mildattempt at nobility. “Any man would kill to be in your position, you know.”
“I’d step down willingly.”
“But you can’t.” He reminds me with a glare. “Now pull yourself together, let the staff clean you up, and get to the throne room. Need I remind you that these women are here for you and your hand? No more hesitation. We need you to live the life of a king. You’ll be presented each woman and her name, and you’re to pick one to have dinner with tonight. You will not be disappointed by the selection, I assure you.”
“How many are there?”
He clears his throat, flicking off a non-existent piece of lint on my coat. “...Thirty.”
“Devin,” I growl. “Did we not agree to ten? Fifteen atmost?”
“Yes…” He pats my chest, taking a step back and finally meeting my eyes. “But Lady Bethany suggested it would be best to have more given the duration of the competition. And the trials.”
My expression grows cold. “What do you mean, thetrials?”
I have to respect him for holding my gaze without flinching, as most do. His voice is level. “There will be several trials to test each woman individually on their compatibility.”
“Compatibility for what, exactly?” I whisper.
“For everything.”
I shake my head, already sensing by the tension in his jaw they are likely something I would not agree to if I knew what they were. “We did not discuss that?—”
“This entire competition is a delicate balance. We are running.Out.Of. Time. Cyrus. You know it as well as I do. The trials will not only speed up the selection process, but it will also shine a light on who would be the best fit.”
