Page 3 of Blood of Dragons

“But that was like twenty years ago. Old news.”

“I still haven’t broken it.”

Silas drank from his wine and crossed his arms over his chest. “You know you’re the favorite.”

“Father doesn’t have favorites.”

“Bullshit. Yes, he does. And he got lucky that his favorite happens to be his eldest.” He grabbed the glass by the stem and swirled it. “What are you hiding from, exactly?”

“I’m not hiding from anything.”

“You’re literally hiding from everyone.”

“Because this is a secret terrace no one knows about?” I snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

I stared over the edge, a white candle burning on the table in front of me, withstanding that ocean breeze as it moved up the cliffs to meet us. “I know when the time comes…I’ll never compare to the king that he was.”

“You’re right,” he said. “You won’t.”

I turned slightly to look at him.

“Because you aren’t Father. You aren’t me. You aren’t anybody but you. Why try to emulate someone you’ll never be, when you can be the best version of you? Be a better king, how about that?”

A gentle smile tugged at my lips. “For being such an idiot, you sure know what to say.”

“I let people think I’m an idiot because I like to lower their expectations. So whenever I do something noble or intelligent, they’re impressed. It’s all about perception.” He tapped his fingers against his temple and gave a wink.

“Very wise.”

“I know.” He sank into his chair with his arms crossed, enjoying the warm sea air as it ruffled through his short hair.

“I appreciate that there’s no animosity between us.”

He turned to look at me.

“I feel the hostility, entitlement, and envy from Uncle Barron and that side of the family, and I’m glad I don’t feel it with you and Rosella. Whenever there’s great power, there’s great envy and, therefore, great anger. I’m thankful we don’t fight among ourselves, that you and Rosella have always supported my inheritance of the crown.”

“You don’t need to get sappy on me.”

“I just wanted you to know that.”

“Truth be told, even if it were offered to me, I wouldn’t take it.”

“Why?” Did he mean that, or was that a lie he told himself?

“Come on.” He looked at me. “My spine isn’t hard enough. Father makes the job look easy, but I know it’s nothing of the sort. You seem like someone who would make the job look easy.”

“You just called me dramatic a minute ago.”

He smirked. “I did, didn’t I?”

I approached the two-story home on the royal grounds, light visible in the windows from the chandeliers. When I tried the door, it was unlocked, so I let myself inside, immediately noticing the smell of a dinner I hadn’t eaten.

I entered the living room and found her.

She was asleep on her side, the blanket pulled to her shoulder, the window cracked open to let the cool air into the room.

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