Page 40 of Dragon Slayer

“My lady, it’s the prince, he–”

Father.

Eira stood, instantly tense. The usual softness of her posture melted into a straight-backed, alert stance, feet braced wide apart on the floor. “What is it? What’s happened?”

But Val could already feel a low thrum of panic in the palace, like the buzzing of insects, hopping from wolf to wolf, to Helga, to Mother, to his own suddenly-queasy stomach.

Helga braced her free hand against her side, as if she had a stitch. She huffed and puffed, but managed, “It’s his brother. His brother’s here.”

Vlad sat bolt upright in the bed. “Uncle Romulus?”

A low, angry growl pulsed through the room, and at first, Val didn’t realize the sound came from his mother. Then he saw her eyes flash, and her fangs slide down to peek from beneath her lip. “Where?” she asked, in a voice she never used with the two of them.

Val shrank sideways into Vlad, who put an arm around his shoulders.

Helga straightened, hand falling to her side. “In his grace’s study, my lady, but he doesn’t want–”

“I don’t care what he wants,” Eira said. “Not ifhe’shere. Go and fetch Fenrir, bring him to the study. Cicero is there already, I assume?”

“Yes, my lady, but–”

“Now, Helga. Please.”

The wolf muttered something distressed under her breath, but hastened to do as told.

When Mother turned back to the bed, her expression softened a fraction. “Go to sleep, the two of you. I’m going to help your father.”

Vlad pushed the blankets down, gathering himself to climb out of bed. “But, Mother–”

“You willstay here. Is that understood? Look out for your brother. Neither of you are to leave this room.” Her gaze was ferocious.

Vlad seemed to shrink down in his nightshirt a little. “Yes, Mama.”

She glanced between the two of them, expression stony, implacable. This was no gentle encouragement, nor a request. It was an order:stay put.

“Don’t leave the room,” she said again, and finally left them, shutting the door firmly in her wake.

They sat for a moment, pressed together, not breathing. The candle flame guttered, nearly went out, and recovered in the sudden flurry of wind current left by the slamming door. Its light licked up the walls, across the ceiling and the bed, unsteady flickers that seemed to echo Val’s erratic heartbeat.

Finally, Val said, “How did he find us?”

Vlad snorted – but it was a shaky snort, and his arm tightened around Val’s shoulders. Val could feel his fear, sense it, even if Vlad would never admit to being afraid. “Father’s aprince. He isn’t exactly hiding.”

No, he wasn’t, but it had been so long. And he went by Vlad Dracul now. Only the smallest handful of individuals knew that Father was also Remus, and even those only knew because Father had told them, not because they’d known him then, back when the first king of Rome tried to have him executed.

Val wanted to feign braveness, like his brother, but at the moment, cold terror washed through him, obliterating the chance. “Do you – do you think he’ll hurt Father?”

“Probably not. Why would he? That was centuries ago.” But there was doubt in his voice. Uncle Romulus had been a shadow lying over their lives, a faceless threat, the imagined monster under the bed. “And besides: Fenny and Cicero, and Caesar would never let anything happen to Papa.”

Very true.

“Damn it,” Vlad muttered. “I want to see what happens, though.”

An idea struck Val then. A brilliant one. “I could go.”

“What? No.” Vlad turned to him, frowning, his arm slipping off Val’s shoulders. “You saw her. She’ll box your ears if she catches you out of bed.” She’d never lifted a hand to them in anger, which was perhaps why her expression minutes before had rattled them so.

“But I won’tbeout of bed.” He tapped a knuckle against his temple. “Only my mind will.”

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