Page 1 of Cast in Conflict

01

Corporal Kaylin Neya understood exactly why Bellusdeo, her Dragon roommate, had never really called the Arkon by his title. She had always used his name: Lannagaros. At the time, Kaylin assumed this was because Lannagaros was a name that had sentimental value to Bellusdeo, when so little else did.

Facing Lord Sanabalis—the former Lord Sanabalis—she revised that belief. Sanabalis was now the Arkon. Kaylin was expected to use his title. This had caused some minor embarrassment, and reinforced the notion that Dragons could get away with breaking the social rules when normal people couldn’t.

“I’ve called you Sanabalis—Lord Sanabalis—for the entire time I’ve known you. I’m sorry. I’ll get it right.”

Sanabalis’s eyes were orange, but his smile was genuine. “As you were, Private.”

“I’m a corporal!”

“You’ve been a private for the entire time I’ve known you.”

Point to the Dragon.

Luckily Kaylin could save a little bit of face because the discussion in progress occurred in the very soundproof west room in which Kaylin had, months ago, taken the magical lessons mandated by the Imperial Court.

Those magic lessons had, in theory, resumed as of today. The bracer meant to restrict the magical power of the marks of the Chosen sat on the desk to one side of the hated candle that once again occupied pride of position on the otherwise empty great table that stood in the center of the room. In theory, she had to wear it All The Time. In practice, its weight had become almost unfamiliar in the past few weeks. If anyone had reported this to the Emperor, he’d decided the lack of bracer was worth the risk. She didn’t know and she wasn’t about to ask.

The Dragon who was now called the Arkon—this was going to be so confusing—had taken his normal chair. He wore the normal robes. Nothing about his appearance had changed. Even the color of his eyes was the familiar orange, flecked with gold.

“We hear,” he said, “that Bellusdeo has been somewhat restless of late.”

Kaylin glared at the candle.

“The Emperor is concerned.”

She concentrated on fire, on the name of fire, the shape and heat of it. It wasn’t hard at the moment.

“Corporal.”

She exhaled. She hadn’t been looking forward to a resumption of magical classes, but they were mandatory—at Imperial convenience. Imperial convenience meant she hadn’t had a lesson in a long time.

She fixed as neutral an expression as she could on her face and turned toward the new Arkon. “If you have something to say to Bellusdeo, you should say it to Bellusdeo.”

He said nothing.

“I have to live with her. I know you have to live with the Emperor, but he can’t actually kill you when he loses his temper.”

“It is my belief that he can,” Sanabalis—no, the Arkon—replied. “It has not been tested, however.”

“Bellusdeo can kill me.”

“I highly doubt your house would allow it.”

This was true. Helen, her house, was sentient, and disliked the idea of her guests murdering either each other or their host.

“When you say ‘we,’ do you mean ‘him’?”

“Him?”

“His Imperial Majesty, the Eternal Emperor.”

“No. He is one of the concerned people, yes, but the concern is not entirely his. We would like to know where Bellusdeo has been going in the past two weeks.”

“You spy on her. How can you not know?”

“Spy?” Sanabalis snorted. With smoke, because he was a Dragon. “We monitor her for reasons of safety, which even you must fully understand.”

---