Page 19 of No Ordinary Drakeling
Chapter 7
Chrysander rubbed his hand over his temple as the limousine pulled away from the curb. It had been a particularly trying day which turned ugly the moment he walked into Council session to listen to leaders bicker over legislation. It grew particularly nasty when Aloisa the Dwyer started shouting at the top of her lungs; Chrysander had to yell over the leader of the druids just to bring some peace into the room. It was not the way he preferred to handle things, but she was a nuisance.
It was at those moments that Chrysander felt the full weight of his responsibilities. His life was composed of carefully tending to two different legacies. When Fate made him Emperor, he’d had to fill the shoes of two men who only ruled for fifty years, but the programs they introduced stood the test of time. Chrysander made sure of it and that no one ever forgot their hard work or the sacrifice they made in giving their lives for nothing more than the greed of unworthy dukes.
He didn’t have to wonder what the pair thought of his efforts; the Arch Lich had indeed resurrected them and put them in charge of the Order of the Fallen Knights. Drystan and eventually Conley had become good friends and they were both grateful for all Chrysander did to protect their images after their deaths. As for Chrysander, he was pleased to have them in his life and always relished the opportunity to speak with them. As if it weren’t enough to have to rule after two legends, Chrysander now had the Council leadership.
Centuries after the initial invitation, Chrysander learned that the letter from the Council had been penned by the former elder council of the Order of Necromancia, but it was the Arch Lich who’d impressed him. Chander was tireless in his efforts to do everything he could to expand magic and to better everyone in his path. He spent over four centuries tending to the Council after the fall of its creators. Another pair of nearly mythical people, the former rulers of the Coven of Warlocks started with a simple idea. Their premise was to center life around Fate and work together to design a better world.
Like Drystan and Conley, T’Eirick and Saura now breathed again. The Arch Lich, along with a group Chrysander coined Sorcery D’Vaire, resurrected them as a new race called Darkfallen Court. The Lichpriestess and Lichpriest were incredible people, and Chrysander wasn’t going to allow chaos to destroy the Council they crafted. So, he walked out of the morning session with a throbbing headache after doling out a caution to Aloisa the Dwyer to behave as the honored leader she was supposed to be.
Somewhere in a tree, her brother—also picked to rule their people by Fate—hid. Everyone spoke highly of Killian the Dwyer, and though Chrysander had only seen him from afar once, he couldn’t believe he’d do a worse job than his sister. He hoped the druids would drag him from his isolation and save Chrysander from having to discipline Aloisa like a child in front of her peers.
Chrysander’s afternoon had not fared any better. The most glaring irritation was finding out that Wesley failed to prepare the press release telling the people of the Council that Chrysander met his mate. His office manager hadn’t deemed it a priority since he had mountains of work to do, and Chrysander set him straight. He wanted it on his desk by the time he got there the following afternoon after Council session, or there would be hell to pay.
Busy with meetings, Chrysander didn’t have time to call Ellery. The gorgeous elf was probably overwhelmed by everything that had fallen into his lap the day before, and Chrysander hated that he couldn’t set aside his duties to help him cope. It made him feel as if he were already failing, but what choice did he have? Instead it was Zane who got to spend the day with him while Damian complained that there was not enough security around either emperor.
“We’ve only got an hour before you’re expected to speak at the Draconis Enterprises reception tonight,” Damian informed him as the car pulled up to the building where they lived.
Chrysander wished he could skip it, but it was the dragons’ company, and he was their leader. He wondered when he’d have time for Ellery, and it irritated him. Given the choice, he’d set everything aside just to have a conversation with the elf. “Fine.”
“I got a text from Costas.”
Chrysander followed his brother out of the car. “How is he? How are his parents?”
Ten years ago, Costas tried to resign as one of Chrysander’s dukes when his elderly parents grew unable to care for themselves. Chrysander refused and insisted he take a leave of absence that would stretch as long as his folks needed him. They missed Costas but understood he had his priorities straight. Chrysander did what he could to support him and arranged for whatever he needed—not that Costas was always good at alerting them when he faced new obstacles in caring for the two aging dragons.
“His father’s been put in a wheelchair—he’s grown too weak to walk,” Damian said as he punched the elevator button. The doors silently slid closed, then they traveled up to the penthouse.
“How’s Costas holding up?”
“You know how he is. He never complains.”
“Let him know we’ll help however we can.”
“Already done.”
They arrived at their floor and when they stepped out, Damian chatted for a moment with the guard he kept posted outside their home while Chrysander bristled with impatience over seeing Ellery. A minute or so later, they made it through the front door.
“I wonder where Ellery is,” Damian commented.
“I don’t know but I plan on finding him, so I can talk to him in the hour I’ll be here,” Chrysander griped.
Before Damian could offer a reply, Zane and Ellery walked into the enormous foyer. Chrysander frowned once he spotted his mate. His long, beautiful hair had been ruthlessly chopped off, and the few precious inches left of it were combed away from his elegant face. Though it drew attention to his slightly tilted eyes and high cheekbones, Chrysander already missed the length. Gone too was his traditional elven clothing; Ellery was wearing jeans with a long-sleeved T-shirt, and his feet were tucked into sneakers.
“What happened?” Chrysander demanded. His words were curt, but where had his elf disappeared to? This man standing in front of him was not at all what he’d expected, and he had to admit he was disappointed.
Zane smirked. “We went shopping and hit a hair salon.”
“I see that. I thought you were going to an elven boutique.”
“We did,” Ellery responded. “I think Vylendri did an amazing job. I am going to be back soon for a trim.”
“And the clothes?” Chrysander asked. “No one expected you to give up your identity.”
“I like my dragon clothes, and I am not giving up my identity. I am an elf and a drakeling. I want to represent both sides of myself. I wish to embrace the traditions of all my people.”
Though Chrysander appreciated that Ellery was standing up to him in such a graceful way, he didn’t particularly want the reminder of his dragon blood. It scared him shitless to think of Ellery’s first shift, and he greatly preferred thinking of him as an elf. He felt as if a cold wind was blowing through his life, ready to deprive him of his other half. “Can I ask how you’re honoring your elven side?”
