Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
With grace and elegance my mother instilled in me since I could walk, I took my place, lowering myself onto the cushioned seat. Adelaide remained standing behind me, a hand on a dagger hilt.
No one spoke at first, awaiting permission. I used the time to gather my thoughts. I’d just battled a Locke. Bonded to him via mystical blade. He wanted to kill me or die; either outcome was acceptable to him as long as I suffered. I had no idea how to handle him, but I’d have to figure it out. Fast.
Deep breath in. Out. Centering.
“Let the skies part and stars listen,” Adelaide announced, sensing my readiness. “The Dragon Crown is called to her council.”
“We rise to serve,” the group of ten responded in unison, as custom dictated. “We stand with the Crown. We rest in her power.”
Only then did the royal advisors ease down. Each person trained for their role from a young age and voted on by the people. Though immortal berserkers, they had lost their berserkerage. The knowledge they’d hoarded over the ages had taken a toll, bowing their shoulders with burden, turning their gazes skittish and assessing, as if always on the lookout for secrets and treachery. A dragon still prowled inside them, except it produced zero fire.
Must be a miserable existence. One I’d never envied. “Explain to me,” I stated flatly, reclining in my chair, “why there is talk of removing me as queen. Treason, I might remind you, and an executable offense.”
To their credit, none acted surprised or attempted to deny their actions against me.
Councilman Roland Hoffmann studied me, as if trying to make sense of a puzzle with missing pieces. He hailed from one of Ashmorra’s oldest and most respected families. In fact, he and Cedric had grown up together. Had been friends. What a blow it had been to the councilman when the king turned shifter, putting our homeland at risk. “Your father seeks his firebrand.”
Nyla again.
I gripped the edge of the chair arms, nearly cracking the wood as I fought to conceal my sudden burst of anger. That manticore berserkatrix had married King Cedric soon after he’d butchered my mother, his then-wife, for the crime of existing. An act that allowed something evil to take root, reshaping him into the first dragon-shifter. In a matter of weeks, however, he’d lured several hundred into joining him.
But then, he’d had help. Manticores could cast thoughts into other minds, a talent Cedric had used to devastating effect, convincing entire contingents of warriors to follow him. Roland had remained, his loyalty to Ashmorra rather than the king. Or in my case, the queen.
“Nyla is dead,” I reminded them all. Only a few short years after Cedric elevated Nyla to queen, he’d slain her in a fit of temper. Shifters didn’t calm and protect their fated ones the same way berserkers did.
But they did mourn. Afterward, his grief and regret had been so great, he’d weakened, heralding his defeat on the battlefield. He’d lain broken at my feet, his death certain by every law we knew.
“We thought King Cedric was dead, too,” Councilman Ansel reminded me right back, “but here we are. He resides in our dungeon, frenzied to reach his manticore queen.”
And now, a human professor wielded her favorite dagger. What were the odds? Astronomical unless an immortal worked with him. Not that I would mention such a troubling fact. I could never fully trust my advisors.
“Perhaps Cedric is the phoenix foretold in our prophecies,” Councilman Hugo suggested, and murmurs erupted. “The dragon who rises from ashes to rule us for all time.”
Aaah. Now I understood. “You don’t want me to kill him. You want me to step aside and usher in a new, fated reign for my father.”
Varying reactions met my words. Outright refusal. Chagrin. Determination. Clearly, some had talked this over and come to an agreement, which made it a bigger problem than I’d anticipated. Strength flourished in agreement.
“There are many reasons such an outcome is favorable, Queen Olyssa,” Roland said. “To start, your firebrand is dead, and my guess is, unlike your father, yours isn’t coming back.”
A firebrand was essential, ja. Outside of consuming gelu root, an herb that temporarily dulled a berserker’s rage, a fated mate was the only thing capable of soothing my temper. But Roland was right. Mine was long gone, and Leopold wouldn’t be coming back to life. If not for the Chains of O, I never would’ve attempted to bond with another Locke.
Speaking of…
The attraction to Taron should have faded. Instead, it lingered, sharp and wrong. Breathe. Just breathe. “You said to start. What else troubles you about my reign?”
“Your sisters.” Frowning, Roland waved to Adelaide. “That one in particular.”
“I prefer my official title, thanks,” she told the room with a too-sweet smile. “The pretty one.”
The men clicked their tongues in irritation. Councilwoman Bauer sighed.