AURELIUS

M

y boots clicked on the tiles as I strode down the hallway. Ahead, the dull murmur of voices echoed forth as the court bickered about God only knew what. My father wasn’t expecting me, which meant none of the others were either. Part of me relished the surprise I’d see on their faces, but another, deeper part of me simply wished I wasn’t there at all. I was not made for this, no matter how much my father had hoped I was. Though, I would do my duty as heir apparent to the clan.

Two guards stood outside the conference room, looking somewhat bored until they heard me approaching. The one on the left, who had been in my father’s employ for as long as I could remember, saw me first. His jaw dropped open.

“Prince Aurelius?” he said in a husky whisper. “You—I thought you were still on a diplomatic mission.”

“Yes,” the other guard drawled, looking me up and down with obvious distaste. “What brings the prince back so soon?”

This man wasn’t as familiar to me as the other guard, though I thought I recognized him from past meetings. From what I could recall, this man was part of a family who, while loyal to my father, weren’t happy with some of his past decisions. At times, the royal houses could be at each other’s throats, even while they paid homage to their ruler. Many, I’m sure, hoped the problem prince might abdicate and allow them a chance at the throne. If they thought I would do that to my father, then they were sorely mistaken.

Clawing through my steel trap of a memory, I dragged the man’s name up from its depths.

“You probably shouldn’t worry too much about that, Claudius,” I said, reaching forward to brush a piece of lint from his uniform. “Some things are above your station. Now, announce me,” I demanded.

The man glared at me for a second before masking his irritation and nodding. “My pleasure, Your Highness,” he said with a slight bow, then turned to go.

As he stepped into the conference room, the other guard gave me a knowing grin.

“He is of House Carrino, Prince Aurelius. They are no fans of your father.”

Glancing out the window, I nodded absently. Fifty stories below, the human world moved along, unaware of the creatures and beings that shared the planet with them. Headlights sliced through the night, reflecting the drizzling rain.

What would they say if they knew the technological advancements their race had developed over the last several centuries had done so much damage to the world of magic? Technology and science was slowly pushing it toward a precipice of destruction. It was part of why my trip had been important. The few remaining wellsprings had to be protected at all costs.

“Yes, Damascus, I could tell,” I muttered, turning my attention back to the man. “And how is your family?”

The guard’s cheeks reddened, possibly because I remembered his name, or possibly because I was showing an interest in his life. Many of the royals saw their court servants and vassals as nothing more than tools. They were people above all, and I found those of the royal houses who treated them otherwise utterly deplorable.

“They’re fine, Your Highness. My son Taurus is six, he’ll be starting school soon,” he said. “We’re hopeful he’ll be able to shift when he comes of age.”

Over the years, the number of dragon shifters who’d been born and able to shift had dwindled. In fact, any birth was a cause for celebration because even that simple act was so rare. Each child was a cause for joy among our kind. The last time a dragon had been born with the gift of shifting was over twenty years ago.

“Tell him I said hello,” I said.

“I will, Highness.”

Before our conversation could continue, the doors of the conference room opened. The Carrino guard looked more irritated than ever as he held it open for me. Inside the room, a dozen men sat around a rectangular table. On the wall behind them, incongruous to our nature, a large digital touchscreen showed graphs and charts I had no interest in.

“Prince Aurelius Decimus, Crown Prince of House Decimus,” the guard intoned as I stepped past him without a glance.

“Aurey?” My father grinned at me. “I didn’t expect you home so soon.”

Cassius Decimus was a huge, booming man who looked closer to forty than he did his actual age of sixty. He was one of the most powerful dragon shifters to ever live, much less reign. His smile and obvious excitement at my return echoed around the room in most faces, though there were a few who looked more irritated than happy. Houses Carrino, Lafayette, and Beatrix were the most overt in their annoyance.

“Yes, Prince Aurelius,” Benedictus Beatrix said with a silky false bravado. “What brings the peacemaker home this evening?”

Peacemaker. I cared nothing for the nickname. Not that it was a bad thing, but many in the court thought making peace instead of war was a pointless exercise. At times, they used the name as a term of degradation rather than respect. In my personal assessment, diplomacy, bargaining, and treaty-making were preferable to war, death, and chaos.

“I thought you’d be gone at least another week,” my father said.

“Yes,” Benedictus agreed. “How are the religious zealots of the Hikshil tribe faring? I’m sure things are riveting there,” he added, rolling his eyes.

If my father noticed Benedictus’s sarcastic tone, he didn’t show it. Instead, he took his seat and pinned me with his gaze, awaiting my report. Benedictus cared little for the fae and looked down upon them at every chance. Many of the older, more powerful families couldn’t comprehend the way the fae tended to live simple, nature-based lives. With their access and ability with magic, the fae could be powerful beyond belief. To men like Benedictus, it was incomprehensible. Benedictus wasn’t a bad man. His son was one of my best friends, but he was misguided—at least in my personal opinion—and that could lead to him being a bit of an asshole at times.

Clearing my throat, I stepped forward. “I returned,” I said, throwing a challenging gaze around the room, “when I heard the court would be meeting three days early.”

Around the room, several men stirred uneasily, and my father’s smile slipped a few degrees.

“In all honesty, I was under the impression that the quarterly discussion was to take place on the third Friday of the month, yet it seems I was not informed that these proceedings would happen on Tuesday.” I smiled to myself, tilting my head as realization hit. “Also, it is strange that this is happening at nine o’clock at night, rather than noon, like usual. Almost as though one were trying to hide something.”

Father waved a hand at me. “Schedules change, Aurey.” He shrugged helplessly. “I really didn’t think you’d want to be here for this, with everything else you had going on. I’m sorry. Go ahead and get on with your report, son.”