“Good idea, Brother,” Noirin responded. “Brogan will have the hard work of guarding us ladies to sell our goods.”
Madeline lifted the flap on the other side and stepped under it. “We will have a good day. I see no reason why we cannot return home tonight. Dravyn, you and Aleksander can pack up the tent. We fly home as soon as we’ve sold the last vegetable.”
“I’m a king; the other courts will expect me here,” Aleksander said.
“Bah, do you see any of the other kings joining the dragons they send to sell their wares?” Noirin asked. “No, they trail through midday to buy their ladies bits of lace or get meat pies. You need not worry about expectations.”
It was probably cowardice and proved that Fate had erred in making him a king—one hated and feared throughout dragonkind—but Aleksander rose to his unsteady feet.
“I will go with Dray.”
“Excellent. We will have our table cleared by sundown,” Noirin commented. “Go on with both of you.”
With Dravyn at his side, Aleksander strode away from the market area toward the isolated spot they’d chosen outside the castle gates for their tent. It was impossible to stay near the other courts, and Aleksander hated that he was different. And he had no idea what had gripped him while the men and women had hollered and thrown things at him, but he hoped it would never happen again.
∞∞∞
1807 AD
Draconis Court of D’Vaire
King Aleksander D’Vairedraconis was a recluse. Over four centuries ago, he’d experienced an incident of horror and unfortunately, it had not been an isolated event. More than once, Aleksander had gathered himself to help sell their wares and found himself locked inside his body as fear consumed him. His terror of these episodes had made it difficult to even manage the strength to leave his home, so now he did not. Brogan would take the three talented ladies, who for some reason were still proud to be D’Vaire, while Dravyn stayed on their land, which changed often as the new emperor moved them regularly.
For Aleksander, it was hard to understand why these wonderful men and women he called family chose to stay. Each of them had a mountain of assets to offer any court, so it would be easy for them to go, but not one had ever shown any interest. Simultaneously grateful and confounded by their loyalty, he hoped they never changed their minds, for he loved them.
Brogan waltzed into the outdated home they now shared. Although they’d built a small fortune, none of them found any merit in upgrading anything other than the basics. They would not be there long enough to grow roots, so they would not waste a single coin.
“Are you still eating?”
“I cannot decide what I am most appreciative about this morning,” Aleksander responded. “I waver between the taste of this ham and this exceptional bread.”
“I finished mine in ten minutes.”
“You need to learn to savor things.”
“A messenger from Castle Draconis was just here,” Brogan said, handing Aleksander an envelope.
Holding in his sigh, Aleksander laid his napkin down on the linen-covered table. “I suppose we must move again. It is the only time we hear from Emperor Chrysander.”
Brogan pulled out a chair and dropped heavily into it. “I do not see why we must continue to be dragged from one end of this continent to the other. We’ve seen such beauty in the land, but I grow weary of packing. Do you think if Emperor Drystan and Emperor Conley had not been murdered, we would’ve had a different life?”
“An interesting question and one we’ve debated before,” Aleksander remarked, breaking the golden wax seal on the back of the envelope. “It is impossible to say. They did not appear taken aback by me, but they could not know how others would react. I daresay Emperor Chrysander is only trying to please the other kings by shuffling us around.”
“At the very least, let us hope it is not too far. I hate flying with our things over long distances, especially with Dravyn’s damn plants. He will kill us all if we drop one.”
Aleksander pulled the letter out, and his eyes widened as he digested the words. “Well.”
“You look alarmed. Are we being thrown from the planet entirely?”
“No, see for yourself,” Aleksander said, handing it to him and getting to his feet. Giving Brogan the opportunity to digest the words he’d just read and could hardly believe, Aleksander strode into the kitchen with his dishes in hand, which he set on the countertop. “Noir, will you gather the others and meet me in the dining room?”
“Is all well?”
“We’ve received a letter from His Majesty.”
“Moving again?”
“I’m afraid so, but this one is not like the others.”
Aleksander went back to where Brogan was sitting and found his best friend with his lips pursed. “I did not expect that.”
“Noir and the rest of the family will join us shortly,” Aleksander told him, grabbing a seat. “I find myself both annoyed that I have to pack but excited as well.”
“I’m of the same mind.”
Four dragons hustled into the room, and Brogan handed the single page that would change their lives to Noirin, as she ran their household. Aleksander gave everyone a chance to read His Majesty’s words and gestured toward the ones who were finished to sit in chairs. His eyes met the faces of his family, and he was buoyed by their enthusiasm.
“Sorcerers, can you believe it?” Noirin crowed.
“I wish to know everything about them,” Dravyn remarked.
“With all the books you read, you will be an expert in no time,” Madeline assured him. “Will your plants make a trip across the ocean?”
“They must. I have cultivated them for too long to leave them behind. What do you think North America is like? Could it be as grand as Europe?”
“I am sure they’re equally grand, just different,” Noirin commented. “Why do you think we must leave everything we know behind?”
“Strange, is it not? Why would forming an alliance and joining the Council of Sorcery have everyone packing to leave the continent?” Aleksander asked. “It must be quite the shock for other courts. They have lived for millennia in the same spot.”
Larissa snorted. “Yes, while we’ve moved so much, I long ago lost count. We’re well used to it. Meanwhile, I wish to make it known that I’m keen to meet every kind of sorcerer there is.”
“His Majesty says nothing about what kind of powers they have,” Aleksander responded, as eager as Larissa to know magickind.
“I wonder if it is as spectacular as the sorcery in books,” Dravyn mused.
“I do not suppose anyone wishes me to write Emperor Chrysander to tell him we do not wish to join the rest of the dragons on this epic journey?”
“You must be not quite lucid to even suggest a thing, Aleksander,” Noirin teased. “I haven’t been this excited since the day we stormed out of Court Ethelin.”
“I don’t know that I would say we stormed our way out.”
“You may recall it however you wish, Cousin, but I remain steadfast that we strode out of there with our heads held high because we moved on to a better life.”
“All of you were courageous to follow me when King Ethelin kicked me out. I would not have survived without you. This new stage of our lives I believe will prove to be even more exciting than the last few centuries.”
Larissa stood fast and hustled to the door. “Let’s get our things packed. I wish to have no delay in meeting the new people we will be allied with.”
“Larissa,” Aleksander stated. Hating to dash her hopes or wipe away her smile, they must always deal with the reality of the situation. “I do feel it necessary to remind you that although there are dragons now willing to do business with me from afar, these sorcerers may have the same unfavorable view of a bi-color dragon as do our people.”
Noirin laid her hand on his. “Someday, Aleksander, everyone will know what a prize you are and why Fate chose not only to give you a court but to make you the only king who bears g
old in his eyes. It is only a matter of time until you change the world with your honor, integrity, and kindness.”
“As ever, all of you are simply too good for me.”
Brogan got to his feet and straightened his navy waistcoat. “Come along, let’s leave our king to his maudlin thoughts. I do not wish to spend my whole day being thanked for doing what my heart and mind wanted. We’re each proud to be D’Vaires and quite happy to be uniquely different.”
Chapter 4
1807 AD
Draconis Court of Kestle
A battle had started inside Rafferty the day he embraced his dragon, and there was a constant tug of war—a daily struggle between what man and beast wanted. Rafferty had to fit in with his people, and he was praised each successive day he went without shifting, which had him pushing it until he was left with no choice. His last one was forty-five days ago, and Rafferty was restless and irritable as he filled his plate from the sidebar.
“Paunchy, you might save some for the rest of us,” Duke Nollan Kestledraconis taunted from behind Rafe. Nollan and his twin, Neil, had been born in 1432, and though their parentage was very much in question, Charlton had claimed the pair. The moment they’d shifted, they were given titles despite being hardly medium brown. Recently Charlton had mentioned that a daughter had been born, but she would remain with her mother, and Rafferty didn’t even know her name.
“There is plenty left,” Rafferty replied, shuffling over to the table. Although he didn’t like the nickname his siblings had come up with, it was impossible to hide his rounded belly. As he’d feared, the benefits of being a shifter were lost to him. Rafferty caught illnesses, he gained weight, his face broke out in spots, and his moods were mercurial, though he kept a tight rein on them so he didn’t upset his father by being snappish.
“Has Paunchy allowed anyone else to have a meal this morning?” Sullivan asked, strolling into the dining room, immaculately dressed.
“Just a bit, to be sure,” Neil observed while Rafferty ignored them. Rafferty would not apologize for enjoying Molly’s tasty treats or his love of food.
“For Fate’s sake, Rafferty, what the devil are you wearing?” Charlton asked, walking in after his eldest son.
Glancing at his waistcoat, Rafferty saw only a tan pattern of slightly varying colors and a few yellow dots he quite liked that matched his jacket, but his brother’s snickering was testament to him being played for a fool again. “Sullivan has my clothes made for me at your order, Your Highness.”
Charlton grabbed a seat at the head of the table and bellowed for Molly. “Son, I understand you like to play jokes with Paunchy’s inability to see color correctly, but keep in mind that I have to look at him too.”
“I thought the bright green a nice touch with the truly abhorrent fabric I found for his waistcoat,” Sullivan responded with a guffaw.
Molly bustled in and put a plate in front of Charlton. “You don’t have to yell, Your Highness; I know when you take your meals. Haven’t I been serving you forever?”
“Yes, dear Molly, forgive me. Did you see Rafferty’s new waistcoat?”
“Your Grace, do not torment Rafe so. You know he can’t tell when you’ve had something garish made,” Molly admonished Sullivan.
Sullivan was still laughing. “I simply could not help myself.”
“Did you get enough to eat, Rafe?” Molly asked.
Neil’s eyes widened in shock. “Molly, if he eats any more, the rest of us will starve and he’ll be so fat he won’t be able to ride his horse.”
“Your Grace, do not be so unkind. Your Highness, a note has arrived from His Majesty.” Molly reached into a large pocket on her apron and produced an envelope, which she handed to Rafferty’s father.
“I do hope he’s not chiding me again about some silliness like before,” Charlton muttered, opening it and yanking out the letter. They didn’t hear from Emperor Chrysander regularly, and most often it was to place a small fine or other such punishment on Charlton. Fate had chosen many kings, and not everyone liked to play fair—it was when they whined to His Majesty about being outwitted by an honest businessman that Charlton found himself with biased penalties. “You boys will not believe this. The fool wants to ally us with sorcerers, of all things.”
“Sorcerers?” Molly asked.
“If it was not bad enough that the buggering idiot wants us to lower ourselves to deal with other shifters, His Majesty not only wishes for us to join a council with magickind, he expects us to leave our ancestral land and go to North America. I tell you I will not do it,” Charlton roared. The dragon slapped the letter onto the table, and Sullivan swiftly snagged it to read.
“Your Highness, he is the emperor chosen by Fate. Are we not to honor that?”
“I was chosen by Fate too, Molly. Does my judgment not matter? I would tolerate another trade agreement, but I refuse to leave my land.”
“I have never liked the man,” Sullivan remarked, setting the letter aside. “I do not trust a man who would willingly choose to bed another man. It is not only unnatural but disgusting and perverted. This only proves my instinct is quite correct. Fate makes mistakes; we’ve met plenty of kings not fit for their titles. Perhaps she has lost her touch. I fear should I ever meet my mate. How will she wreck my life?”
Charlton glared. “I do not wish to speak of mates. You know what happened with mine. The woman went mad. Threw a servant down the stairs, killing her instantly, and Sullivan hardly out of nappies. I had to raise him alone.”
It was a tale Rafferty had heard many times, but rarely did Charlton choose to discuss the reason she’d acted so rashly. His other half, Agnes, had discovered by Charlton’s announcement at supper that a servant carried his babe. When she’d destroyed the unborn child, Charlton had argued fiercely with Agnes. By the next morning, she was gone from the castle and no one knew what had befallen her or if she lived on.
“I daresay you did a fine job,” Sullivan commented, toasting his father with his teacup.
“I’ve done a fine one with all my sons…even Paunchy.”
“Do not anger me this early in the day, Your Highness,” Molly threatened on her way out of the dining room.
“Eat up, lads, we have to let our people know we’re splitting from the emperor. We will not be asked to leave the very land that has sustained us. I never needed an overlord, and we shall flourish without him.”
Rafferty had no choice but to agree with his father, but it rankled that he had to defy Fate to do so. Taking no issue with the emperor except for when he fussed over the other kings’ complaints, he had concerns regarding what would happen without the other dragons. However, it was his duty to aid Charlton in ensuring that Court Kestle flourished.
∞∞∞
1906 AD
Court of Kestle
Rafferty raced down the hill, nearly sliding when his shoe hit a patch of mud, but he managed to right himself. Squashing his hat more firmly on his head, he neared the cottage at the edge of his father’s land. When he reached it, he straightened his jacket and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so with his heart racing, he pounded harder.
“Molly, are you there? I wish to speak with you,” Rafferty yelled. Having just learned from Sullivan that Molly had moved out of the main house, he could not understand why she would go or how his father had let it happen. Since he was born, Molly had been there to care for them, and she was truly the one person who consistently treated Rafferty with kindness. Although he loved his brothers, they were men who liked to taunt and tease. Rafferty did not wish to think of himself as someone who could not take a good-natured ribbing, so he held his tongue when they hurt his feelings. “Please Molly, do you have a moment? I’ve just a few questions to ask.”
Time was immaterial as he stood there begging her to answer. Rafferty tugged off his hat and laid his forehead against the wood. “I already miss you, dear Molly. In truth, I’ve always thought of you as my mother. I hope it does not offend you to hear it becaus
e I only wish to tell you the depth of my love for you. There is such fear inside me, knowing you are no longer at the house. Please, won’t you let me in?”
Rafferty stayed in that exact position until a familiar but unwelcome beast roared in his head. “I’ve no time for you, dragon. Sod off.”
With a mighty exhale, Rafferty forced himself upright and straightened his clothing. Trudging back up the hill and solemnly making his way to his bedroom on the top floor, he sat on the bed and wondered if it was something he’d said to make her want to leave their family after so long. It wasn’t until the light grew dim that Rafferty rose again. Belly rumbling, he stomped down the stairs to find food, grimly wondering if he would need a new size in pants again soon.
“Paunchy, your trousers are too short,” Neil observed, striding into the dining room. There was a servant named Heather instead of Molly placing dishes on the table.
“I know,” Rafferty muttered, grabbing a dish and filling it with food that would never be as tasty as anything Molly cooked. “I made a joke to Sullivan that he ordered my last suit with the wrong measurements, so he told the tailor to remove a few inches.”
“I think it will start a new fashion,” Sullivan remarked, and his brothers all burst into laughter.
“What are you fools carrying on about?” Charlton demanded when he arrived.
“You’re in a horrid mood, Your Highness,” Sullivan said.
“I’ve every reason to be. Can you believe that woman moving out?” Charlton asked. “Have I not allowed her to make household decisions for centuries? Suddenly she finds out she’s having my babe and wants nothing to do with us. I fear she thinks herself above royalty.”
“Molly’s with child?” Rafferty asked, nearly dropping his plate, unsure of what was more shocking—that she was expecting or that Charlton was the father. Rafferty still lacked any sexuality, and the relations of others often left him trying to figure out how they could so willingly fall into someone’s arms.
Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19) Page 3