Page 29

Damian

T he urge to whistle contentedly was nearly overwhelming until I walked into the working wing of the palace.

That was where all the various offices that helped run the kingdom were housed, including my own. It was a hubbub of activity and voices, good-natured bandying about mixed with more proper business discussions. There was a lot that went on behind the scenes to ensure things ran smoothly, and it all happened there.

It was due to this that I suppressed the urge to whistle a tune while also schooling my face into its usual neutral expression.

The fewer questions people asked about my good mood, the less misdirection I would have to employ to ensure that more rumors about Aurora and me did not get out. In hindsight, I should’ve been more cautious at the Peace Gala, but I wouldn’t let that get to me.

As it turned out, it wouldn’t matter. I noticed the lack of energy the instant I walked through the double doors.

What the hell?

I looked around, seeing the stiff expressions and wooden movements as people went about their business. Nobody was joking around, and those who were talking were doing so in hushed tones, keeping their conversations quite.

Snagging the first dragon to come within arm’s reach of me as I stood there, I inquired about the goings-on.

“You haven’t heard, Magistrate?”

I grimaced. “I’m running a little late today. Fill me in?”

The last thing I would do was admit to having spent extra time in bed with Aurora before leaving. Something I’d told myself would be fine, that I didn’t work regular hours, so there was no time I “had” to be there by.

Apparently, I was wrong. Guilt gnawed at my insides. Could I have averted whatever was going on if I’d come to the office at my usual time? Perhaps I could’ve dealt with it before it became a crisis.

“There’s a problem with the shield,” the nervous dragon said, his eyes big and black, looking everywhere as he spoke.

“A problem?” I tried to portray ignorance. Was there another problem with it, one I hadn’t been informed of yet? Had it come down entirely?

Again, I cursed myself for slacking off to enjoy Aurora’s company. As enjoyable as it was to explore the soft contours of her body, duty came first. I was letting them down.

“It’s failing , Magistrate. There’s a breach.”

I stiffened. “Who told you this?”

“It’s all over,” the dragon said, shaking his head. “Everyone knows. I’m not sure where it started.”

“Very well. Thank you.” I patted the junior dragon on the shoulder and then strode deeper into the labyrinth of hallways and passages that made up the administrative heart of the Isles.

He may not know where the rumor started, but I do.

There were seven people who knew about the breach in the shield at the border. Neither I nor Aurora had told anyone, and Horus knew better than to bring it up. While the sovereign might have reason for letting it get out to the masses, I trusted her to inform me of that plan before she did. Which left three people, all of whom would benefit from the word getting out.

“I fucking hate politicians,” I growled to nobody in particular, earning me more than one questioning glance from passing staff.

By the time I reached the ornately carved brass door out front of the sovereign’s office, I’d reached a boiling point. Hearing the whiny voices of the occupants inside simply tipped me over the edge.

Without knocking or waiting to be admitted, I entered, brushing right past the trio of politicians to stand in front of the heavy wooden desk.

“Magistrate,” the Sovereign of All Dragonkind said gravely as I saluted, fist to chest, elbow out straight.

“My sovereign. I regret to inform you that there is a security leak in your administration,” I said, ignoring the muttering of Councilors Kerstun and Laurana. As usual, Councilor Parun remained quiet, staying in the background even in the relative private setting of the office.

“A security leak?”

I nodded. “Someone, somehow, has—”

“This is a private meeting you are interrupting,” Councilor Kerstun snapped abruptly, having had enough of being ignored that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

I snorted in response but didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. “As my sovereign is aware, the news about the breach of our protective shield was also private until someone unscrupulously leaked it. Likely for their own benefit.”

The sovereign managed to look aghast. “Surely, nobody in my administration would do such a thing?”

“They would, and they have,” I said sadly, not having to turn around to know that the politicians would all have their best “I don’t understand, I’m innocent” faces on.

It was just another reason I detested their kind. They bent—and even outright broke—the rules, convincing themselves that if they were doing it, it was for a good and just reason. In their eyes, they’d done nothing wrong because it “had” to be done.

“You need to leave, Magistrate.” That was Council Parun. “You’re not a part of this meeting, nor are you privy to our discussions with the sovereign.”

Now, I did turn, doing so slowly, letting my gaze settle on the small smarmy councilor who, despite his oily looks, actually wielded the greatest amount of power of the trio.

“As a senior member of the sovereign’s government who has actually seen the breach in person, not to mention experienced its effects, I’m here to answer any questions the good councilors of our nation might have.”

“We do not—”

“And as the magistrate of that nation,” I went on, steamrolling the incoming protest. “I am here to ensure that the law is being followed. Including ensuring all information deemed sensitive in nature to the security of our nation is not revealed without proper authorization. The breaking of said law being a serious issue, as I am sure you are aware. After all, any law that is punishable up to and including death if the breach is serious enough is one that everyone should be aware of. Am I correct, Councilor Parun, that you and your fellows are aware of the seriousness of this law?”

Councilor Parun glared hotly, but I had him, and we both knew it. I hated politics, but if he wanted to play games, I could play games.

“The councilors were just informing me about an incoming formal protest set to be lodged against me in regards to this data breach,” the sovereign said, breaking the silence.

“Interesting,” I said, moving my glare across all of them. “I wasn’t aware the council had met today.”

“They haven’t,” the sovereign said.

“Then how is it they’ve already passed a formal protest against you?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“The council is unhappy with the lack of resolution on this issue,” Council Kerstun said. “They will vote for a protest of no confidence in her rule, citing the danger this breach in our shield represents.”

“You seem awfully convinced of what the council will do,” I said. “Given the rumor has only circulated this morning, you are remarkably well prepared.”

“It’s the council’s job to act quickly when called for,” Councilor Laurana snipped.

“Of course,” I said, smiling toothily, letting there be no doubt that I was well aware of their bullshit, and as the magistrate, I would be looking for any slip-up on their part that revealed their connection to the breach reveal.

Both Lauran and Kerstun refused to totally meet my gaze, but Councilor Parun had no issues looking me dead in the eye. Either he was entirely confident in his actions going undiscovered …

Or maybe he’s not involved? He’s the most powerful of the three and stands the most to gain if the sovereign is removed from power by the council. That would take an eighty-percent majority vote, which is unlikely but possible if things get worse. But he has absolutely no sign of guilt.

“If there is nothing else, councilors, then I assume you have important business to attend to.”

“Of course, Sovereign,” Councilor Parun said before Kerstun or Laurana could launch into a new tirade.

The trio filed out, and I shoved the door closed after them before sitting in one of the chairs opposite the sovereign and sighing dramatically. The sovereign stared back at me. I couldn’t help but notice the tiredness in corners of her eyes as she looked across the desk at me. The jade fires were just a bit duller than usual, and it bothered me to see her like that.

“Ignore them,” I grumbled. “As annoying as they are, we need to ignore them for now.”

“I can’t.”

I lifted my eyebrows.

“This is the move I warned you about,” she said. “The opening stages of their play for power. This is it.”

“One of them is behind it, you’re sure?”

“You aren’t?” she fired back.

“It looks that way, doesn’t it? Everything is perfect to indicate one of them.” I worked my jaw in disgust. “Almost too perfect. It’s too obvious one of them is behind it.”

“Not to them,” the sovereign said with a most un-monarch-like snort of disdain. “They think I’m an idiot and that they can pull a fast one over me like this. That I’ll just roll over and go with it.”

“All three of them?” I shook my head. “Parun isn’t that dumb.”

“No, but he’s that ambitious.”

“Yes. Which is why I think he sees this as a gift horse.” I scratched my jaw. “But I don’t think he’s behind it.”

“Regardless of who it is, they must be stopped,” she said, pounding her desk with a closed fist. “This cannot be allowed to get any worse.”

“I agree.” I hesitated. “Do you have a plan on how to make sure it doesn’t?”

“I’m working on it.” She didn’t sound hopeful. “In the meantime, however, I intend to ensure that whoever is behind this gets no more scepters. That is why I’m sending you and several others I trust to guard the remaining ones.”

“They’ll be ready for beefed-up guard detachments,” I warned.

“I know. Which is why you and the others aren’t going as part of that group. You will be extra. My ace in the hole. Because they will come for them, Damian.” She leaned forward, flames of fury dancing in her eyes now. “And when they do, you must be ready. You must stop them.”

“I will,” I said, rising and saluting. “I won’t fail you.”