Liev
“Ah, Prince Liev. Have you met my niece, Larysa?”
Despite the fact he wanted to groan, Liev’s smile remained in place as he turned to face the man who had spoken.
“How lovely to see you, Duke Claus,” he said, immediately recalling his face, despite the fact he knew he hadn’t seen him in years. It was just another skill that had been drummed into him since he was old enough to stand. A king could not forget people’s names or faces. Not of his friends, and certainly not of his enemies.
Not that Duke Claus of the Zoisme Clan was his enemy, of course. But everyone knew he was jealous of the Drakos Clan’s hoard and power.
Claus smiled slightly, his eyes glinting as he pushed forward the young woman standing by his side. She shot her uncle a quick glare, before her face took on the polite expression expected of dragon royalty.
“And how nice to meet you,” Liev said, bowing slightly before her. No matter what he may have thought of her uncle, it would be unforgiveable to be rude to a lady.
“Charmed,” she replied, a hint of disinterest in her voice, though her expression remained as polite as ever.
“Well, I can see you two are already getting along famously,” Claus laughed, and Liev honestly couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. “And now that you’re the heir, I’m sure you’ll be needing to get married. Soon.”
Claus’s words were about as subtle as a sledgehammer soaked in dragonsbane.
“Uncle, we’ve talked about this,” Larysa said under her breath.
“Yes, we have,” Claus went on. “We’ve talked about how unlikely it is you’ll find your mate before you turn twenty-five. And how advantageous this marriage would be. For both of you.”
He turned to wink at Liev, as if his niece weren’t standing right there.
It was certainly true that Larysa was very beautiful – any man would feel incredibly fortunate to be her husband.
But she is not our mate, his dragon supplied, right on cue.
Larysa shot him a mortified look, as if to tell him that she, too, couldn’t quite believe just how blatant her uncle was being.
“Well, Uncle Claus,” she said brightly. “This has been fun. But there must be so many other people Liev has to meet with. Perhaps we should excuse ourselves.”
Claus looked like he was about to object, before his niece took him firmly by the arm and began to walk him away. As Liev watched them go, Larysa glanced ruefully over her shoulder, mouthing Sorry at him as they went.
The moment of respite was short-lived.
“Prince Liev, allow me to congratulate you, and present to you my daughter, Lady Marina –”
“Oh! Prince Liev, I don’t believe you’ve met my younger sister –”
“Prince Liev, may I introduce you to –”
Of course, he smiled at all of them, bowed, and kissed their hands. Some of the girls even made eyes at him, clearly hoping that if he had to get married, they would be the one waiting at the end of the aisle.
“Liev, may I speak with you a moment?”
After the whirl of eligible princesses, duchesses, and baronesses, it was a relief to hear his own father’s voice in his ear.
“Yes, Father. Of course.”
Liev followed his father to a quiet – or comparatively quiet – corner of the hall. Around them, dancing couples turned, and those who weren’t dancing sat at the banquet tables, drinking wine and eating sumptuous food.
Liev, for some reason, simply hadn’t been able to find his appetite.
“Son.” King Aron cleared his throat awkwardly, and immediately Liev knew what the topic of conversation was going to be. “I noticed you speaking with some very beautiful young women.”
Swallowing, Liev nodded. “Yes.”
“Did any of them in particular catch your eye?”
No, because none of them are our mate, his dragon snapped, taking on a tone that Liev would never consider taking with his father in person.
“I... they were all very nice,” he said, in as noncommittal a tone as he could.
“You know that in the next few days, one of them will be selected as your future bride,” his father said, after a moment’s pause. “And it would make me happier to know it was one you actually liked.”
Liev said nothing. He watched the dancers at the ball.
No. No. No.
His dragon howled, fire puffing from its nostrils in fury.
There’s no point in complaining, Liev told his dragon for what seemed like the four hundredth time. I only have a few days to find my mate anyway. And that is most certainly not going to happen. He grimaced as his dragon tried to interrupt. A match with a princess would be good for our clan.
His dragon receded, sulking, a few small puffs of smoke trailing up from its nostrils. But at least it didn’t say anything further about its mate.
A lot of dragons are perfectly happy without their mates, Liev told himself. And besides, this is about more than my personal happiness. This is about the future of my clan. And we promised we’d never be reckless or selfish again.
“I know it seems like a difficult decision now,” his father said. “But I assure you that –”
His father’s words cut off suddenly. Liev blinked, uncertain.
“Father?” he said – before, to his shock, he saw a stricken expression come over his father’s face, as he broke out of the trance he had seemingly drifted into.
“The hoard,” King Aron whispered, his voice hoarse. “There is... something is...”
“The hoard?” Liev asked, suddenly on alert. Aside from their mates and their clans, dragons’ hoards were their most precious possessions. They drew energy and power from them, and without a hoard, a dragon would slowly lose all their magic. “Father, what’s wrong? What is –”
Then, suddenly, Liev felt it too. As king, Aron was the dragon most intimately connected to the Drakos clan’s treasure – but now, Liev felt an urgent fear pulse through him.
Someone is trying to steal from our hoard.
Liev felt his face curl into a snarl.
Without thinking, he turned on his heel, heading for the doors as his dragon growled furiously, rising up within his chest, wings spread, fire licking at its jaws. Who dares to touch our hoard?
Now that the initial shock at the unexpected turn of events was wearing off, Liev began to feel rage overtaking him. What kind of dishonorable dragon would use their invitation into the castle to sneak into the Drakos clan’s treasure vaults?
Whoever they were and whatever they had planned, it was obviously carefully orchestrated. The vaults were protected by ancient magic – not to mention the fact that every Drakos dragon would sense it the moment anyone who shouldn’t be there touched any of their precious treasures.
Maybe they thought we’d all be too distracted by the ceremony and the ball, Liev thought grimly.
They’re stupid, then, his dragon hissed. As if we would ever allow an outsider to touch our hoard, no matter what else was happening.
Liev found he couldn’t help but agree. He had sensed it almost the moment the magic had been breached. And when he found out who had been sneaking around his clan’s treasure, there would be hell to pay.
“A sword!” he called out as he approached the armored guards standing by the entrance to the great hall, awaiting his command. As heir to the throne, he was the commander of the Drakos Guards – the dragons who had protected the royal family for generations. And as commander, he was trained just as they were: he had been an expert swordsman by the time he turned fifteen. A guardsman tossed a sword to him, and he caught it easily, swinging it in a tight circle to warm up his arm.
“Liev, wait a moment.”
Liev turned to find Magnus alongside him, concern in his eyes.
“Don’t go. Let the guards deal with this. You don’t know what’s down there.”
Liev shook his head. He could understand why Magnus was concerned – but it was his duty to protect the hoard.
“I can handle myself, Magnus,” Liev replied. “Whatever it is, it will be sorry it tried anything.”
Magnus shook his head. “Look at it this way – it’s something strong enough to break the magic seals on the hoard. Something that made its way to the castle, despite the fact it’s inaccessible to anything that can’t fly.”
Liev only snorted in response, stopping in his tracks before turning to face Magnus. “Do you think I’m afraid?”
“No,” Magnus responded quietly. “But Liev... if you’re determined to go, and I’m getting the feeling that you are, please be careful. I’ve only just found you again.” A small smile ghosted across his face. “I’d kind of like to have you around for a little while longer.”
Liev felt a clutch in his heart. Reaching out, he grabbed Magnus’s shoulder, looking into his eyes. “Magnus, I swear I’m coming back,” he said. “Look, it’s probably just some minor dragon leader who’s got it into his head he’s entitled to something our family took off his centuries ago. I probably won’t even need this.” He lifted the sword, gesturing with his head. “Either way, we are the Drakos Clan. No one can stand against us.”
And with that thought in his head, his dragon breathing fire within him, Liev turned away, barreling down the steps to the vaults, the Drakos Guards at his back.
Be careful, brother. Magnus’s voice was in his head as he dashed away.
Quickly, Liev sent back I will, brother, before he lifted his sword, and steeled himself to face whatever he would find at the bottom of the stairs.