Page 7 of Blood of Dragons

I stared at him.

He stared back.

“I admire your optimism, Father. But I don’t agree with it.”

He looked at the mural again.

“Any time I’m in their presence, it’s like facing an enemy on the battlefield. I feel the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end. Iinhale a breath and hold it—like I’m about to take a knife to the back. Whenever my wife is in their presence, I feel abject terror. Silas shares my sentiment—and I know you do as well—even if you refuse to admit it.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the mural, like he hadn’t listened to a word I said. “They think they’re the rightful heirs to the throne upon which I sit. Of course they’re envious of my power, my wealth, of the admiration the people feel for me. It should all belong to them—in their eyes. What am I supposed to do about that, Talon?” He turned to look at me. “This seed of resentment was planted generations ago, and that weed continues to grow. The tale has become their family legacy, the throne stolen by the power of dragons. The best way to kill something is to let it starve—and I refuse to feed it.”

My eyes were locked on his as I absorbed his words. “You’ve ignored it your whole life, and it continues to grow—so letting it starve isn’t the solution.”

“Then what is the solution?” His voice rose slightly as he stepped closer. “What would you have me do? Behead them? Annihilate their entire line to end the contempt? Anger, frustration, and envy are not good enough reasons to put their necks to the blade.”

“But what if anger, frustration, and envy turn into something more malevolent?”

My father stared, his eyes shifting back and forth between mine. “Kill my own kin for a mere chance?”

“I think they’re planning something. I’ve had my suspicions for some time.”

“And delivering a wine barrel is suspicious?” he asked incredulously.

“Perhaps there was more than wine in that barrel.”

All he did was stare.

Hurried footsteps sounded in the distance, and then Silas joined our conversation. “The wine barrel is gone.” He breathed hard, panting as he caught his breath. “I just checked. It’s not there anymore.”

I looked at Father. “There’s your proof.”

“Looks like the absence of proof if you ask me,” he said calmly.

When Silas caught his breath, he spoke. “Since they were caught, they came back and removed the wine barrel, knowing it could be traced to them. It was probably full of poison. Poison meant for you, Father. For all of us.”

Father looked at the mural again.

Silas looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Shouldn’t you be more upset about this?”

“I never saw the wine barrel,” Father said quietly. “All I have is your perception.”

“You have our facts,” I snapped. “We saw them put the wine barrel in there. Silas just confirmed it’s been removed.”

“Perhaps one of the servants moved it up above,” Father said. “Perhaps it was already served at the party last night. There are several different possibilities, but you assume the absolute worst—that they would try to kill me.”

“Father.” I was losing my temper, but I had to keep it under control. “Our lands may have been at peace for generations, but peace is not a state of permanence, and it will be disrupted at some point. We know Uncle Barron and his kin believe they’re rightful heirs to the throne. We’ve seen proof of that. I admire your commitment to optimism, to seeing everyone in a good light, but that’s simply unrealistic. I will not watch my father get a knife in the back because he refused to look over his shoulder. I want to be king—but only when you’re old and gray and pass in your sleep.”

He looked at the mural again.

“Father, please.” I stared at the side of his face, desperate for him to see reason.

When he spoke, it was with defeat. “What will you have me do? I will not strike them down.”

“You could threaten them,” I said. “Let them know you’re onto their scheme. If their intentions have been treasonous, they’ll back off once they realize we suspect them. That’s the least confrontational and violent way to do it.”

“Threats are just as sharp as the tip of a blade.”

“Then what is our plan?” Silas asked. “Nothing? We just wait for them to make their move?”

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