Page 5 of Worthy Promises
“You have to stop sneaking out.”
“Why?” Worth demanded. “I didn’t ask to be banished to this house. It was my father’s choice, not mine. I’ve friends in this court. They are the lone thing keeping me here. Otherwise, I’d escape and run far from my father’s kingdom.”
“They aren’t your friends, and most of them are no longer here. Your father either paid them off not to speak to you or sent them to Court Varius or Court Kestle. None of them want to see you.”
Worth couldn’t argue. Although he routinely escaped from the isolated house his father had banished him to after his first shift into a pink dragon, he hadn’t encountered a single soul willing to speak with him. Each person he encountered treated him as if he were dead, and minutes later, Drogo would show up to drag him home.
Being a pink dragon was a nightmare. There was a constant struggle in his head. His beast remained proud of his unique scales, and Worth had no choice but to keep his shifts to a minimum. Boian dictated every aspect of his life. He had no money, no visitors except Drogo, and nothing to keep him occupied except a pile of moldering books he’d read dozens of times.
There were days Worth feared going mad, and in recent months he’d considered everything he’d learned from Drogo since his youth. Humans were nearby. They could help him. If he slipped past the ever-present security Boian insisted upon, Worth could locate humans. Except for the three courts of Ethelin, Kestle, and Varius, dragons had joined the Council of Sorcery and Shifters and abandoned Europe.
The Council was now led by Emperor Chrysander Draconis—a man selected by Fate to oversee the many dragon kings. Surely, His Majesty could find a home for a lonely pink dragon. The question was how to get off Boian’s land without getting caught. Drogo knew him too well, and it was rather sad to discover he was no match for the clever man. Of course, it helped that Drogo assigned someone to ensure Worth didn’t step a foot outside his front door unless it was under the dark of night for one of his infrequent shifts.
“I wish I were a Duke,” Worth muttered as he stared at his hands.
“No, you don’t,” Drogo replied. “I know that was your wish, but you have never been one for responsibility. My King’s word is law, and I must obey no matter my personal wishes on the matter. You are unsuited to that. You’ve always wanted to do things your own way. King Boian insisted you enjoy being a drakeling, and you did, Worth. I know this is hard for you, but it’s for the best.”
Loneliness ate at Worth’s soul, and he’d grown to abhor silence. “I was prepared to adjust to being a dragon of importance,” Worth muttered.
“That’s not for you, Worth. You had some skill with numbers, but you never applied yourself. Your tutors were frustrated, and so was your father. Accountability doesn’t sit well with you. The rules are simple now. Stick to the house, and your father will continue to provide food in your belly and clothes on your back.”
“I wish for more,” Worth whispered. He wanted a mate, friends who genuinely cared for him, and perhaps even a relative. While his father had not treated him kindly, anything was preferable to being alone. All Worth had now was a dragon. A dragon Worth was ashamed to have, and their relationship was difficult at best.
“That’s because you grew used to excess. If a glass of wine was offered, you were happy to drink an entire bottle. Rarely did you temper your desires. Your last night as a drakeling was a perfect example. It has been a decade. You have had time to adjust to this life. As usual, you’re rebelling. Since you were a boy, you have yearned to irritate your father. Act with honor, Worth. He is your King too, and you must obey him.”
“As you do,” Worth complained bitterly.
“That’s what a Duke does. No matter how distasteful an order may be, it must be respected.”
“What of your soul?” Worth demanded, lifting his head.
“Fate wouldn’t have made me a black dragon if she didn’t intend for me to unequivocally honor my King.”
Worth had nothing to do but think, and he’d learned a few things about Drogo. The ancient man measured everything with regard to whether it was noble. A fine trait, but one wasted with King Boian. The man had locked his only son into an old house because he was a pink dragon. Boian believed Worth shamedthe entire court despite it being beyond his control what color his scales were. Worth hadn’t spoken to his father since the day of his first shift. Without remorse, Boian had shut him out and probably hadn’t given Worth another thought. That was the man Drogo served without hesitation.
What is the use of being a Duke if you have to act at the behest of a man with no honor?Worth thought with disgust. He’d been too hasty in his desire to follow in Drogo’s footsteps. Worth was his own man, and he finally realized Fate had done him a favor. She didn’t grant Dukes titles. Their role was tenuous and solely based on the generosity of a King.
Serving anyone without being allowed personal opinions had never appealed to Worth, and pity stirred in him for Drogo. Being a Duke was so important to the man that he’d sacrificed his soul to fulfill his duties to King Boian. Worth’s father was undeserving of loyalty.
“Right,” Worth said, choosing not to argue with the man. Drogo was his only friend, and Worth couldn’t afford to alienate him. If Drogo stopped visiting, Worth would surely go mad. “When will your King send over more food? My cabinets are practically bare.”
“It will be a few days.”
“Money low again?” Worth asked. King Boian was terrible at economics. It was why Worth had once been expected to marry well so he could add coin to Boian’s pockets.
Drogo’s mouth tightened. “I’ll bring some things soon.”
“Of course,” Worth replied, slouching further in his seat and crossing his arms. “If you wish me to find contentment, perhaps you could ask again for some fresh books or other things to bide my time?”
“I’ll speak to your father.”
“You will speak toyourKing. He was succinct in telling me the day of my shift that I was no longer his son. I have no desire to be associated with such a man.”
“You’re still an Ethelin dragon,” Drogo said quietly. “It’s unacceptable to speak ill of your sovereign.”
Lifting a black brow, Worth rolled his eyes. Although a dragon’s gaze commonly matched his dragon, Worth was unusual in more than one way. He’d kept the blue irises of his youth and gained a clear overlay of scales. It would mark him for life. No matter where he went, everyone would know he was an odd dragon, which didn’t provide him with much incentive to venture near strangers who’d judge him harshly. The cottage was awful, but the world was terrifying. No one was going to accept a pink dragon in their midst. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to escape.
“The man who banished me to an isolated cottage with nothing but the clothing on my back and hasn’t allowed me any contact with the world for ten years?” Worth asked. “You wish for the impossible, Your Grace.”
