2

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself not to correct him on his usage of my name. Aurey was a child’s nickname. I was thirty years old, and the heir to what was left of the entire dragon shifter world. Still, he continued to use my childhood moniker. It would make me angrier if he wasn’t using it out of pure love for me. There was no malice or ill intent, simply familiarity and old habit. That didn’t change the fact that it always made me feel more like a child than a man.

“The fae tribe of Hikshil were gracious in their dealings with me,” I said. “They agreed to our trade terms and also pledged their allegiance to maintain our working relationship.”

“That is good news,” Father said, looking relieved.

The wellsprings of magic were deteriorating rapidly as the human world expanded, and the power of their tech grew. One such wellspring sat within the boundaries of the fae territories of Hikshil, a valley on the outskirts of Seattle deep within the rain-soaked forests. Without access to a wellspring, much of our revenue from magical items would dry up. The Decimuses, and by association, the Royal Clan’s entire livelihood depended on retaining the largest of the remaining three American wellsprings.

“Did they dance for you?” Benedictus asked, barely hiding his sneer. “Perhaps they performed a show in loin cloths? Do they even have houses, or do they live in dirt hovels?”

The man’s distaste for other creatures traveled down the line from humans, to fae, and ended with the wolf shifters, our sworn enemies. Part of that stemmed from our lower numbers and the threat the other beings posed to us. Humans obviously outnumbered us, but the fae worlds also counted their number as higher than ours. The wolves, however, were the ones he despised the most due to ancient slights and old wounds. Now, we fought and schemed against each other, and even the oldest of us had forgotten why we fought to begin with. Many others held the same notions, but none were as forthright with it as Benedictus.

“Ben, that’s enough,” Father said, casting a dark glance down the table.

Benedictus bowed his head. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

Father sighed and returned his attention to me. “What more do you have for me, son?”

Not deigning to spare Benedictus a glance, I focused my eyes on my father.

“While the Hikshil have agreed to maintain our working relationship, they still do not agree with our uses of the wellspring. They ask, again, that we limit the commercial aspect of the wellspring in the future. They wish it to remain more of a shamanistic and spiritual item, rather than something to make us rich.”

There was a stirring around the room, which I’d anticipated. This was a delicate topic, and one most of us did not want to think about. Without the wellspring’s benefits, our clan would be bankrupt.

My father eyed me warily. “Do they make this suggestion in earnest? Or do they make this request on friendly terms?”

“It was a simple request between trade partners,” I said. “They simply wished to let us know their opinion on the matter. They will not restrict our use, but they do want us to understand the gravity of the situation. New human construction near their lands is planned in the coming years. One of those being a solar power plant. As you know, this may have a dulling effect on the wellspring,” I explained. “The Hikshil simply want us to know that continuing to use the wellspring as we have may deplete its energy even more.”

Father nodded gravely as he absorbed my words.

“Understood,” he said at last, then sighed wearily. “Of course, we cannot allow that. Their request, however, does not fall on deaf ears. When I have some free time, I will dispatch a letter to the head of the Hikshil tribe and assure him I understand his worries.” He waved a hand about as if shooing a fly. “I’ll say all the right things to placate their worries. We’ll also look into the human construction. Perhaps, through our contacts, we can try and nudge the humans to build elsewhere.”

Bowing my head, I said, “I believe that would go a long way with easing their fears, Father.”

“And what of the Laurents?” he asked as I lifted my head. “Any word of them in your travels?”

“Bah,” Benedictus spat. “Who cares what those mongrel dogs think?”

“Ben, I think His Majesty deserves to hear the information from the prince’s mouth himself,” said Cornelius, an older man with graying hair.

The Laurents, the powerful family who reigned over the entire wolf shifter kingdom, were the sworn enemies of our house and our kind. There had always been tension there, and due to the fact that they controlled the second-largest wellspring of magic and envied our larger source, there were always barbs being thrown back and forth between dragon and wolf shifters. Those who were more prejudiced, like Benedictus, exacerbated things even more than they already were.

“Lord Beatrix,” I said, addressing Benedictus. “I think, perhaps, we would be best served to worry about problems and people we do have under our protection. Our people need our minds on them, not on some distant enemy.” I didn’t hide the self-satisfied smirk that flicked to my lips as Benedictus’s face grew red.

The man glanced at my father, who looked like he also wanted to call him down. Benedictus nodded in surrender and plastered a faux smile on his face.

“My apologies, Your Highness. I would love to hear any news you have of our dragon lands,” Benedictus said.

One of Benedictus’s friends on the council, Selinius Corsair, spoke up after a not-so-subtle look from the Beatrix House Lord.

“Might I ask, Your Highness,” Selinius said, “why are we allowing these fae to dictate to us what we can and cannot do with the wellspring?” He gave my father a simpering look. “Your Majesty, do we not control these lands that the wellspring sits upon? Do we not protect these fae from the human world? Should they not be offering all they can to us in return for our mercy?”

This was getting exhausting. It was all I could do not to show my irritation. These pompous bastards were using the court and all its finery and diplomacy to drag long-held grudges and slights into the light of day. It was childish beyond belief, and drained what little patience I had.

“The religious fervor is a bit tiresome,” another man agreed. “Wouldn’t it be better for them to join the twenty-first century rather than continuing to bask in this strange near-hermeticism they like to live in?”

It went on like that for another five minutes with others speaking up. Some sided with the fae, while others agreed with Benedictus and Selinius.

“What you should care about,” I finally said, raising my voice to be heard over the arguments, “is that the Hikshil tribe have no wish to use the wellspring for commerce, as I’ve already said. That alone should allay your fears. Let them have their religion—let them worship how they wish as long as they do no harm to us nor others. They are leery of both us and the Laurents, but trust us more, and therefore count us as allies. We must continue that relationship as equals, not as a master and servant.

“Now. Can we please get back on track?” I glared around at the men, some casting their eyes down in chastised shame, others staring back with thinly veiled anger.