Page 27 of Empire of Death
I continued to regard him with a blank stare, unable to believe my brother had matured so deeply in just a single night of rest.
“I trust Dad’s judgment more than anyone else’s, and I know how much he loves our kingdom and the free dragons that roam the skies. He would only give it to someone he fullheartedly believed could protect it. It’s time that I believe in you the way he does.”
Hawk didn’t say a lot of things that left me speechless, but I was truly at a loss for words.
“Doesn’t matter if you bested me because of the power granted to you by a god. What matters is the fact that a god thought you were worthy of that power. Perhaps that’s the very reason why we’re going to prevail in this war.”
I still couldn’t believe these words came from Hawk, my younger brother, the man who’d resented the shadow I cast over him every day of our lives.
“You’ve appointed me as your general, and my job is to serve you faithfully. Not question why you deserve the crown and I don’t. My position is to serve, not lead. The entire reason the Southern Isles were lost in the first place was because a disgruntled family member challenged the rule of succession—and I don’t want that to be me.”
“You’re nothing like them, Hawk.” I’d seen them in Wrath’s memories, Barron and his two sons, the last stand they took in the courtyard against my father. They were the ones who burned my father’s first wife…and my half sister and namesake.
“I don’t know aboutnothing.”
“I do,” I said confidently. “It’s okay to want more. It’s unfortunate that only one person can rule…and not two.”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “In that scenario, nothing would get done. We’d butt heads on every matter.” He grabbed his tankard and took another drink before he eyed the soup ladled into a bread bowl in front of me. “Gonna eat that?”
I smiled before I pushed it across the table toward him. “All yours, big guy.”
He immediately ripped off a piece of bread from the side of the bowl and dunked it into the soup before he ate the entire piece in one bite. “So, what’s the plan?”
I hadn’t thought much of it. My thoughts had either been occupied with Wrath, wondering why he refused to explore any chance we had to be together, or if my brother would ever speak to me again. “We need all hands on deck. I’ll help them defeat their enemies if they help me defeat mine. It’s a fair trade.”
He nodded as he continued to eat. “But do we have time for that? The kingdom has no one to lead it while we’re away.”
“Mom is back by now.”
“And distraught over Dad.”
“But I know she can lead if she must. We need the Brigandine Empire.”
“Then perhaps I should return to the Southern Isles to command the army while you’re gone.”
“No, I want you with me,” I said. “I need someone I can trust to watch my back.”
“And your front,” he said before he grabbed my spoon and scooped it into the soup. “But will Zehemoth and Movack agree to this?”
“I don’t need their help.”
He was about to slide his spoon through the soup again, but my words seemed to capture his attention more. “What do you mean?”
“I can help the pirates win their war without dragons. I know how to sail, I know how to fight, and I know how to raise the dead. I want the Brigandine Empire to be loyal to me—not my dragons.”
He lost all interest in the soup, letting the stream rise past his face as he focused on me. This was where he would relay his disagreement, remind me we were pressed for time, but he kept his rebuttals to himself. “We can tell Movack to tell her father to have dragons on patrol around the kingdom and the Great Sea. That way, if the enemy approaches, we’ll have time to return and defend our home.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
He nodded like it was finalized. “If we succeed, what next?”
“Then we return to the Northern Isles and speak with Aunt Eldinar,” I said. “By then, hopefully they’ll have had enough time to restore Riviana Star and bury their dead. They have to heal from the first battle before they can fight the next.”
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s get it done.”
I spotted Jack when he stepped inside the pub, wearing a trench coat despite the warm night air. He still wore his bandanna, butnow he had a three-cornered hat on top of it. Dressed like a classy pirate when it seemed like he never set foot on a ship.
He found my table and took a seat across from me, slowly crossing his arms over his chest before he cocked his head sideways. “You called, Your Majesty?”
