“What is the life expectancy of a human?” he asked. Alexander turned to him.
“A healthy one, 80 years?” he said. “Why?”
“But not that one?”
“No,” Alexander replied. “Probably not. Enya neither, although she'll do much better here than elsewhere.”
“And going to dragons for help,” Peter shook his head. “How has the kingdom come to this? Dragons on Earth, dead and not, shifters mixing. Everything is different.”
“It hasn't been easy,” Alexander said. “As I'm sure you are finding.”
“You did a good job, brother,” Peter put his hand on his brother's shoulder. “Don't think that you didn't.”
“Thank you,” Alexander said, hopeful. “And perhaps no more?”
“A little longer,” Peter said. “At least, I hope it's just a little. I will not take the throne, brother, if I feel I will put the kingdom in danger. The darkness in my mind, the world around me – it's not what I thought it would be. I hate to admit it, but I could not handle it when I…left. And I find it difficult to handle now, as embarrassing as it was. There is nothing worse than a kingdom who is led into disaster by a king not in control”
“You don't believe you are in control?” Alexander asked.
“I can't see past today.,” Peter admired “All I can see, all I long for, is the darkness of sleep. It is not as bad as when I first returned, but it is there. So, a little longer, brother, at least.”
“Right,” Alexander said, as Peter turned to go. Once alone in the antechamber, he ran a hand over his face. Wandering, he found himself in front of the throne in seconds. As a boy, he had played around the feet of his father and mother, never thinking that it might be his. It was never supposed to be, even in his wildest dreams.
When he did take it, it was with a heavy but hopeful heart. He would do the best he could until his time was up, one way or another. But he knew that he never belonged there.
“Alexander?” he felt Ariel before he heard her, and spun around, rearranging his facial features so he didn't betray his heart. “Are you alright?”
“I am,” he said. “Just lost in thought.”
“Less thinking,” she said. “More fun. Come on, you've had a long day.”
He smiled. “Mm. My dear, you always know the words to say.”
“I don't intend to say words,” she raised her eyebrows. “Just noise. Let's go.”
He didn't need to be told twice.
CHAPTER 5
When Yvette awoke, she didn't know quite where she was. The bed was vast, enormous, and the room was cold. The walls were grey and stone pillars surrounded her. She thought that perhaps she was dead, until she remembered yesterday.
She wasn't dead; she was just prisoner of the princes of Umora. She had trusted dragons for months now, seeing them as giving her hope and life. They had seemed like kind people, full of compassion. But they had told her stories of the princes on Umora and how they ruled by an iron fist and a lack of compassion for anyone but themselves. She had heard stories of the way Thomas was treated in the army, of how Armand left because he held his Hippocratic oath above their needs. Armand was still loyal to them, that much was clear. Although, judging by his reaction, she was pretty sure that it was with a heavy heart.
She was here to teach Peter how things were and how they had been, and to teach him English. Enya had told her that Peter was stubborn, difficult, but she could at least help with the language. It would be up to Yvette to figure out the years of dragon culture and communicate it with him in a way that would make sense. It was easy to catch up dragons on Earth history. They had chosen to live on Earth and wanted to fit in, and she, of course, had grown up on Earth. But she knew very little about Umora. She didn't want to admit it, because she was terrified of what they would do to her.
She had to just do her job, get paid, and go home. Armand had said Alexander was a man of his word, even if the others were not. She had to trust in that; she had no other choice.
Breakfast was served to her in bed, and she dressed slowly, trying to delay going downstairs as long as possible. They had told her last night to enter the throne room when she was ready.
Yvette felt odd today, almost floating. She had the proper dose of medications, and she had slept well. But the atmosphere was different, and she would never get used to seeing dragons walking down the grand palace halls.
She had seen them only once before, on TV back on Earth. She realized it was Peter she had been watching on the news, terrified along with the Donizettis as Peter murdered and revealed himself to the world. Her world had never been the same since.
The dragons paid no attention to her as they wandered down the hallways. She knew that they were equally comfortable in dragon form as human form; there was no preference for most of them. They also seemed quite used to humans in the hallway, which made her wonder just how long Enya and Ariel had been here. How long had there been a world above her; how long had humans lived in ignorance?
She only knew the way to the throne room by the antechamber, which was the way that they came in. She opened the door, expecting it to be empty.
She did not expect Peter, arm in arm with a beautiful redhead, to be standing there. Cole, Alexander, and another one who was clearly a brother were also there with Enya. Peter looked handsome – stunning even. He looked exactly like what one would expect a king to look like. Yvette had trouble tearing her eyes away from him, and she felt her heart drop when she saw the redhead. There was clearly some sort of connection, some sort of relationship.
That moment where their eyes had locked in the hallway back on Earth had been nothing, she told herself. He was nice looking, even in her moment of terror.
She did not expect Peter to be wearing a crown on his head, in full royal regalia. The redhead was clinging to his arm, a crown on her head as well.
“Yvette,” Enya said in surprise. “We didn't expect you.”
“Have I interrupted something?”
“No,” Enya said, with a smile. “Stay with me a moment. I'll explain.”
Yvette was desperate for anyone to explain anything to her at that point. She had just gone to stand beside her when all of a sudden, loud trumpets blasted from inside the throne room. Yvette jumped several feet in the air as the door opened. Peter went in first, the redhead on his arm.
“Is that the queen?” she asked.
“It is,” Enya replied, as the rest of the brothers filed in. She signaled to Cole that she would follow later. Cole, the most laid back of the four, shrugged and headed inside with a grin on his face. “But she is not his wife. The dragons follow an equal opportunity rule. The highest-ranking female is queen, even if she isn't married to Peter. In this case, she's married to Alexander. She is called Ariel, and she was a ballerina on Earth. She's a carapace, though, so it's a bit tricky.”
“I know of carapaces,” Yvette replied. She was surprised to feel relieved that he had no romantic relationship with the redhead. And why did she care anyways? She missed Thomas. She loved Thomas. “It's all caused quite a mess, hasn't it? So, she's a princess?”
“Queen of the carapaces and the dragons, at least until Peter married. And never was there such an unwilling and informal queen,” Enya smiled. “The other one you haven't met is Nicholas, the middle brother. He's a sneaky one, but I like him. He's not often around the palace, preferring to perform the away duties.”
“He would have been regent, then? Until Peter returned?” Yvette asked, and Enya nodded.
“That's correct.”
“Right,” Yvette took a deep breath. “This is all a lot to take in.”
“It is,” Enya said. “But then, when you consider that you've spent your whole life learning the history of Earth, it's perhaps not that much. It just takes time.”
“I don't know if I can do this.”
“You can,” Enya ensured her. “You've endured much worse.”
The two exchanged a look, the trials of a harsh medical world pas
sing between them.
“Doesn't that make you a princess?” Yvette asked, at last. “Part of the royal procession?”
“Oh,” Enya shrugged. “Yes, but I've done it enough times. I'm used to a very simple, very unglamorous lifestyle, so I don't participate if I don't feel like it.”
“Flexible princess,” Yvette said, with a smile. Enya shrugged.
“Sure. You have to be if you want to life here. Do you want to go around and watch them?”
“I'd rather just wait quietly,” Yvette said. “If that's all right? I understand Peter has some duties, of course, but I'd like to get started as soon as possible.”
“Of course. Go down the hallway to the left, and you'll find a sitting room. He only has to make an appearance today with Ariel, and then I can send him in.”
“Thank you.” Yvette squeezed her hand. All she wanted was for this whole thing to be over.
It was only half an hour for the door to open. Yvette had curled up on the couch, staring at the ceiling. It was beautiful and high, painted with epic drawings of dragons and of what she imagined was the story of their rule. There was a mural on the wall of what looked like Earth, and the dragons circling above. She was focused on it when Peter came in.
“I can do the balcony,” Ariel said to him, as the door opened. “But just for today, I don't like doing it.”
“Isn't that what you dream of – an ovation of a kingdom?” Peter snapped, with no regard for the fact that Yvette was sitting in the room.
“Nice,” Ariel said. “And you wonder why they don't cheer. That, and I'm prettier. Ciao.”
She half slammed the door, and only then did Peter regard Yvette who had barely caught any of the conversation.
“Hello,” Yvette ventured. She had wanted to be a teacher when she was a child. Getting sicker meant that she had never followed through on her dreams. Mind you, she wanted to be a teacher for children, not for dragon kings. “Did you have a good…time?” She didn't know what to call it, and she realized quickly that Peter didn't understand much of what she was saying.
Peter stared at her for a long moment before he took a step towards her. She looked so fragile, curled up on the couch. She didn't move, she didn't stand up and bow like he was used to.
“Hello,” he finally repeated, and she smiled. It was the simplest thing, a greeting. He was uncomfortable, and she unsure where to start.
“Is that Earth?” she pointed to the big mural on the wall. She didn't want to give up, not wanting to startle him. Despite being a regal, handsome king, he looked a bit like a deer in headlights.
“Earth,” he repeated, in English. He drew closer to the mural, touching it with one hand.
“It looks like Earth,” Yvette said. She had her hand on her phone. She had been playing a game on it while waiting for Peter. She went to Google something and then realized she couldn't. “Argh.”
Peter turned back to her, cocking his head. She shrugged, indicating her phone.
“No data,” she said.
He took it from her, wordlessly, and began to push some buttons. Yvette thought he was exploring and let him be, picking at a thread at her skirt. But when he handed it back to her, she reacted in surprise.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said with a smile. “You have Wi-Fi.”
She wasn't sure that was what it was exactly, but he had connected her to an equivalent of it. She knew Umora was an advanced civilization, despite the medieval looking palace. Enya had filled her in on just how much they had and how the medical procedures were far advanced. Internet was probably basic.
Just then, Enya came into the room, which made Yvette breathe a sigh of relief.
“Peter, sit,” Enya said in dragon lore. She was struggling with the language and felt inadequate as a trained linguist. Still, she knew she was learning it far faster than anyone ever had, and she thanked her language training for that. Language that had no basis in what she was used to was of course much harder than one that had similar roots.
“I wanted to ask him about the history of the murals,” Yvette said. “Why Earth is on the wall?”
“Uh...” Enya paused, and then rapidly translated to Peter. He started speaking to her, but Enya waived him over to Yvette. “Speak to her. I know you have English words. If you're stuck for a word, I'll give it to you.”
Peter looked frustrated by this, but eventually sat.
“Earth,” he said, slowly. “Because…we are…connected?”
“Connected?” Yvette said, sitting up a bit straighter. “How?”
“We are…” Peter looked to Enya, who screwed up her face in difficulty.
“Related,” she said. “Oh. Dragons and humans descended from the same ancestors. All shifters did. From Earth.”
“From Earth?” Yvette said. “So we are the same? Once upon a time?”
“Once,” Peter replied.
“Oh,” Yvette said, meeting his eyes. Again, there was that feeling – that odd connection – that she couldn't explain. Peter dropped his gaze first , and Yvette drifted back to her phone.
Maybe he wasn't an evil overlord king. Maybe he was just a confused, lost soul like she was.
CHAPTER 6
“So, they colonized America, and were successful for a while until the American Revolution…” Yvette had decided that today's lesson was going to be about one of the most famous moments in American history. They alternated between language lessons, history lessons, and culture lessons. It seemed Peter knew absolutely nothing about Earth. The dragon princes had started learning about Earth a lot in the last ten years, understanding that they needed to keep an eye on the lesser planet. There were thousands of planets in the galaxy, but Earth, of course, had a special connection to the dragons.
It had been three weeks since she got there. Yvette spent three hours a day sitting on the couch with Peter, with binders and books, and her brains stretched to the limit. Peter would duck in to spend time with her when he wasn't on the throne, in a meeting, or screaming at his brothers. It wasn't the best time to learn anything. He would sit with her, staring glassy eyed, distracted, or moody. His language was improving slightly, but everything she taught him seemed to confuse or annoy him. He wasn't mean to her, but he was clearly miserable, baffled, and unsatisfied in general.
“To leave their king,” Peter scoffed. “And now they are a mess.”
Yvette smirked at that as she closed the book.
“Yes. And we learned last week that many places on Earth left their monarchy…their king.” she recognized the confused look on his face right away and changed her wording. Whenever a word was lost on Peter, his brow furrowed in a certain way. She thought it was adorable until he followed it up with a snarl.
“Heathens,” he answered. “Ruling is hard.”
“I see that,” Yvette replied. “Every day.”
Peter looked at her for the first time all day. His weary eyes were red rimmed, and she wondered if he had slept at all. He focused on her a moment, processing the words.
“We do not get to choose,” he said at last. She wasn't sure that it was the right translation, but he was trying.
“No,” she said. “But that is the case with everyone.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“No one else is king.”
“I mean, about other things,” she said. “I mean, I didn't choose to get sick. But I have to work with what I have.”
“But it is cured?”
“No,” she said, shifting her legs around. “Not on Earth, and not here, as far as I know.”
Peter scoffed.
“There is nothing that we cannot–”
“Enya,” she met his eyes. “Enya is not cured. She told me her story, that the magic and the science forced into her cannot cure her.”
“Phht,” Peter answered, and suddenly reached his arm out. Yvette angled backwards, surprised at the sudden gesture. He stopped, his face softening. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
“I know” she replied
, although she stayed still. Carefully, he reached out, the confident king that he was supposed to be.
She closed her eyes. Dragons had touched her with magic before. Thomas had a very unique brand of magic, compared to Armand's gently healing touch. But neither of them could rearrange her bodily organs in a way that was safe. The grey matter was too far down her brain stem, and even those who had the surgery weren't always cured.
Peter's magic was so different. It felt so strong, so pure as magic flowed into every one of her veins. She felt it touch the tips of her fingers, down her spine, and up into her head. The pressure she had been feeling all day was slightly relieved, and her energy began to return. But more than any of it, it was Peter's hands on her face – his cool, long fingered hand reaching around the back of her head. His hand was soon gently tangled in her hair as his fingers moved downwards. He could identify the problem, but it wasn't until he touched it that he realized how bad it was.
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