Page 2 of No Ordinary Drakeling
The gathering Chrysander made plans to attend was the first in nearly a century as the last emperor was ill for some time before his death. Everyone in dragonkind knew the emperors inherited a castle with empty coffers, but somehow Their Majesties reversed their fortunes. Tragedy had befallen them, and Chrysander was determined to pick up the pieces for the benefit of his people.
* * *
Duke Costas Draconis dropped down into the chair opposite Chrysander with an unholy grin.
“What are you smiling about?” Damian demanded. “This castle is full of nothing but foul intrigue.”
“Come now, did you not believe Bernal’s tale that humans overpowered them and made it to the bedchamber of the sleeping emperors and murdered them?” Costas teased.
Damian grunted. “Too bad they were not intelligent enough to think of the servants. Tales abound regarding our treacherous dukes.”
“Which is why so many of the servants have gone missing,” Chrysander stated with anger vibrating in his voice. “If they think picking off the castle help will save their hides, they are mistaken. I will see them all pay for the murders—no matter the cost or length of time.”
“A new rumor has begun traveling across our castle,” Costas informed them.
“If you speak of the one regarding our late emperors’ bodies, it has already reached our ears,” Chrysander commented.
Costas’s dark eyebrows raised. “I had not heard any tale about their bodies. Their pyre was days before Fate selected you.”
“One servant claimed sorcerers were allowed through the gates and stole the bodies,” Damian said.
“Sorcerers?” Costas asked.
“Aye, can you believe such drivel?” Damian retorted. “What is your tale?”
“Bernal himself told me it has come to his attention that all of the castle knows that you two share a chamber. They find it most unnatural that you would be related by blood and share a bed,” Costas told them, then erupted into raucous laughter.
“What did you reply to our former Imperial Duke?” the new Imperial Duke, Damian, asked as he leaned casually against Chrysander’s desk.
“I was straightforward with His Grace. I explained that it is necessary to have a guard inside His Majesty’s chambers, so he does not run afoul of humans as did his predecessors.”
From the moment they walked through the gates of Castle Draconis, Damian had not left Chrysander’s side and insisted on sleeping on the floor of his chambers. Though he would prefer his brother have a more comfortable bed, Chrysander was grateful to have him close. It was likely the only thing which kept them alive. Costas was just next door and was not nearly as big of a threat to the poisonous men who Chrysander had come to know in his few weeks of being emperor.
“I am sure he was pleased to hear it,” Damian drawled.
“He seemed shocked that I did not think his story of their deaths was plausible,” Costas remarked. “Odious man. I am sure he was behind it all. I cannot believe these dukes, dressed finer than kings but lazier than entire courts combined.”
Chrysander projected his voice since Bernal listened just outside the hallway as he did every day. The man was a disgrace to the dragons and once he had the proof he needed, Chrysander’s plan was to run him through with his own sword. “Soon all the dukes under my roof will see justice met for allowing their emperors to perish. If it takes me a thousand years, I shall personally slit the throat of every man who had a part of the plot as soon as I have the evidence I seek.”
“It will take us time, but we are full of resolve,” Damian added. “Emperors Drystan and Conley did everything during their short reign to see dragonkind flourish. It was genius to create funds for impoverished courts, and we shall be sure their legacy is never forgotten.”
“I shall forever mourn that I did not have the chance to meet them,” Chrysander said, his heart still heavy over the loss of two dragons who had apparently devoted themselves to their people but had found themselves in a castle that abounded with treachery.
“As will I,” Costas agreed.
“It is not only their deaths that shall be avenged but that of every servant that has been cut down since our arrival,” Damian stated.
“Aye, this castle should care only for what we can do to better our people,” Chrysander commented. “Gold is only valuable if it can benefit all dragonkind, and the days of it lining the pockets of my dukes died well before Emperor Drystan and Conley.”
Matters turned to the upcoming dragon festival and Chrysander was attentive, but he burned from the inside out. He was determined to make each duke pay for their crimes, and he grew weary of not being able to save the servants who continued to disappear. It was a miracle that Emperors Drystan and Conley managed to survive for five decades in such a twisted nest with no loyal dukes at their side.
* * *
A loud bang reverberated through Chrysander’s chamber in the dead of night. Before he could even throw off the covers, he heard the whisper of Damian’s sword being ripped from its sheath. It was not the first time they were awakened so, and Chrysander had no doubt each one was a plot to end him. From the anger in the eyes of those around him, he could see their bloodlust had not died with Drystan and Conley.
“Chrys?”
“I’m awake.”
