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Author: Bella Fyre
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-27 21:08:52

2

Since Prince Rodic’s training incident had been so public, there was no way to cover it up. Yet the people of Drayhoone were not alarmed. They were used to Queen Brieanika’s unique nature and her formidable dragon side, and many were eager, almost thrilled to see what the young prince might become. A flying youngling with the firepower of a Torch did not frighten them. If anything, it excited them.

The only ones unsettled were the members of the royal council. They formally requested that the royals travel to the Draynor capital to discuss the matter.

With the Queen’s egg so close to hatching, it was decided that one ruler would stay behind while the other traveled. The council was relieved when King Trace agreed to attend in place of Queen Brieanika; they had always found him easier to work with.

Trace and Straider stepped off the royal cruiser, flanked by ten members of Squadron Five, the royal guard. Waiting on the landing platform was the Grand Viceroy. He bowed deeply.

“Welcome to the capital, King Trace.” He inclined his head respectfully toward Straider as well.

Trace smiled, stepping forward to embrace him. “Good to see you, Father.”

“How are you doing, Trent?” Straider asked warmly once the two men had clasped hands.

“I am well,” Trent replied, smiling. He turned back to Trace, his tone softening. “I am sorry you were summoned here so close to the hatching.”

“I understand the council’s concerns,” Trace said, though his unease was clear despite the calm in his voice. “But yes, I’ll be returning immediately after the meeting.”

His thoughts flickered darkly. The last time Brie had been pregnant, their hatchling had tried to emerge too soon and Trace had been forced to watch helplessly as the child died mid-shift. This time, everything was progressing smoothly. But anxiety gnawed at him all the same.

The party moved toward the palace. Citizens and guards alike greeted Trace with warmth; many had served with him and were genuinely glad to see him.

Inside the throne room, however, the atmosphere grew colder. Formal. The council rose to acknowledge him, though many still harbored resentment. Some believed Trace had taken advantage of a youngling to seize the throne, and Brie’s later gift of Osca’s throne had done little to soften their suspicions. Still, on a professional level, Trace was easier to negotiate with than the Queen, and so they showed courtesy.

“Welcome, King Trace,” said Duncan, lead council member and mate to Queen Rhiyana, Brie’s mother. His tone was genuinely warm. “How is Queen Brieanika? I imagine she is eager for the hatching.”

Trace smiled. “We both are.”

One of the councilwomen, Rela, stepped forward. “Your Highness, have you given thought to what the two of you will do if she produces another son?”

“We plan to celebrate,” Trace replied, choosing his words carefully.

Rela pressed. “Sire, the Queen must bear a female child to secure the southern throne. It would be wise to consider how that will be achieved.” Her meaning was sharp: as long as Brie bore children with Trace, they would all be male.

Trent bristled, but Trace silenced him with a raised hand. “King Daxen has had both a daughter and a son with non-Draynor women,” Trace said coolly. “So there is hope. But to please the council, we will consult Emperor King Mikan and determine whether the rule that only females may hold the southern throne still applies.” He stepped closer to Rela, fire flickering in his eyes. “But mark me no one will ever touch my mate.”

Straider’s hand fell on his shoulder, a calming weight. “Perhaps we should focus on today’s matter, and leave the question of future heirs for a time when Her Majesty can be present.”

Trace smirked, the fire fading as he strode to the throne. “Good luck to you all if you plan on bringing it up with her.” Straider barely stifled a laugh.

Duncan moved smoothly past the moment. “We are here to discuss Prince Rodic.”

Trace inclined his head. “I understand your concerns. But according to Raje, our lead trainer, when a member of the royal line mates with a Draynor, the unexpected must be expected. In half a million years, such pairings have occurred only twice before our son. Both times, the offspring manifested unusual abilities.”

“So all this, the flying, the Torch flame comes from his parents both being Draynor?” Rela asked.

“Not exactly,” Trace said. “His speed is due in part to his mother and to Captain Kyle, who trains with him constantly. Rodic wants to be as fast as him, so he pushes himself. His Torch flame, he inherited from both of us. And as for flying well, all dragons fly.” He smiled slightly. “The only difference is that he managed it at his first change.”

The council murmured. That explanation, at least, was logical.

“I have a question,” Duncan said. “If he is taking after his mother in many ways… what of his demeanor in dragon form?”

Trace chuckled. “According to his trainer, Prince Rodic is quote ‘an annoyingly happy little dragon.’”

“How dare a trainer speak so of the prince!” Rela snapped.

“Councilwoman,” Trace said evenly, “perhaps you do not realize who his trainer is. It is King Mikan.”

“What?” Trent’s face hardened. “Why is King Mikan training the boy?”

“Because Rodic chose him,” Trace explained. “A bond was forged at his hatching. The trainers tried to keep Mikan away during Rodic’s first change, but it was no use. The boy became frightened and went searching for him. He wouldn’t accept anyone else.”

“Then why is Mikan struggling with him now?” Duncan asked.

“Because Rodic has already merged with his dragon,” Trace answered. “He prefers to remain in dragon form. Mikan doesn’t yet trust him enough to release the restraint. So they are at odds.”

At that moment, Lieutenant Flynn entered the throne room. Ignoring protocol, he strode directly to Straider and whispered something urgent. The council’s eyes tracked them curiously. Straider whispered back, then Flynn departed. Straider leaned to Trace and murmured the message.

Trace rose instantly. “This meeting is over. If you have questions about Rodic’s training, speak to King Mikan.”

As he strode for the door, Trent caught his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“The egg is being moved to the hatching chamber within the hour,” Trace said. “I am going home.”

Trent released him with a smile. “Then we look forward to hearing the outcome.” He patted Trace’s back as he departed, then turned to the remaining councilors. “Now what is the next item on our agenda?”

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