Page 10 of Courting the Dragon Prince (A Royal Arrangement #1)

Chapter Ten

L uther flinched as the door slammed.

“It’s clear why all the other kingdoms want peace!” Konrad yelled. “But there is no reason why the necromancers do.”

The king pinched the bridge of his nose.

Luther could understand their father’s frustration. He’d heard the same argument constantly the past few months.

But clearly, Konrad didn’t care if he aggravated their father. “When we destroyed the temples in the Grey Mountains, we weakened the earth elementals’ powers. When we burned the forests and fields, we weakened the nature mages. And the lightning and wind sorcerers have weakened because the balance of magic in the land is off. That, and they don’t have the time to dedicate to training.”

“We’ve been over this before,” the king snapped.

Yet Konrad kept speaking. “But the necromancers have been getting stronger. The more soldiers and civilians died, the more the land suffered, the stronger they became. Their power feeds off death and decay. So why would they want a peace treaty when they are at their strongest? It makes no sense.”

“They might be growing stronger, but their allies have weakened and want peace,” the king said through gritted teeth. “The five kingdoms only ever stood a chance against us because they fought together. Alone, none of them can compare to the might of Draconia.”

Konrad scoffed, clearly not buying it.

Everyone else in the room stayed silent and still, not wanting to get involved. Luther nor any of his siblings would ever dare argue with their father like Konrad did.

When the king had told Luther who he’d be marrying, he’d been unhappy, but he hadn’t dared question his father’s judgement. No. Luther would just bitch and moan about it when his father couldn’t hear him. That was his way.

And of course, the king’s second wife would never argue with the king. Luther had never heard his stepmother say anything to contradict his father, even when the king wasn’t present.

“The necromancers were unwilling to negotiate for peace for a long time,” King Alaric said. “They do so now because of the pressure from their allies.”

Konrad’s lip curled. “And they made it clear that they wanted one of their putrid spawn to marry your heir.”

“Yes. They did. And I agreed to that term. I gave my word.” The king’s voice rose. “And so you, my son, my heir, will marry one of the necromancers.”

Konrad pressed his lips together. His nostrils flared.

The king took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. “But if you have any preferences regarding the necromancer you wish to marry, I will take that into considerati?—”

“Thank the dragon gods!” Konrad interrupted. “I get to choose which decaying corpse to marry. I get some input regarding which undead creature I must bind myself to for the rest of my life.”

Their father narrowed his eyes, clearly at the end of his patience. “They are not undead.”

“No. They just resurrect the dead to fight as skeletons, zombies, and corpses.” Konrad paced back and forth. “They are pure evil, Father. All of them. Why can’t you see that?”

“You forget we need peace too, boy. Or did it slip your mind that our bloodline is weakening?” The king’s voice turned icy cold. “Did you forget that my eldest grandchildren are dragon runts?” The king stepped towards his eldest son.

Konrad lowered his gaze. But Luther could see the anger still simmering in his eyes. “I have not forgotten.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Even after their grandmother had died, their father had continued the war she had started. Then, in the last handful of years, something had changed in their kingdom.

In Draconia, not all individuals were dragon-born. In fact, it was relatively rare. The ability followed along bloodlines. The royal bloodline was one of the strongest and had always produced powerful dragons.

Until now.

Dragons shifted for the first time when they hit puberty. But almost all the dragons who’d come into their power in the last few years, those born during the war, had been dragon runts—that was, dragons who were far smaller and weaker than average. They also struggled with shifting back and forth. There were cases of young dragons who’d become stuck in their dragon form for weeks.

He’d heard whispers in the Castle of the Dragons, people saying that the dragons were being punished for having started the war. For their hubris to think they could invade other countries and take their land just because of their superior strength.

At first, their father had ignored all reports, saying that sometimes weaker dragons were born. “It is regrettable, but it happens,” his father had said.

Then his two eldest grandchildren, twins, had shifted for the first time four years ago. Both were dragon runts. The first dragon runts ever in their family history.

Their father’s resolve had wavered.

Then his next eldest grandchild had failed to come into his power as he passed through puberty. He could be a late bloomer. It happened sometimes. But it had never occurred in a bloodline like theirs. If he didn’t come into his powers soon, he would be the first direct descendant of two dragons who had not inherited the dragon power in known history.

Faced with the threat to his lineage, his father’s resolve had crumbled. Luther wondered if it was as the lightning and wind sorcerers said: the balance of magic in the kingdoms was off.

The dragon king had opened peace negotiations with the five kingdoms. Although, he had not shared the news of his descendants’ weakening powers with any of them.

His father had always planned to marry his children to other dragons to strengthen the bloodline. The fact that the king had agreed to marry four of his children to those who weren’t dragons showed just how worried he was. Of course, since Luther’s father had so many children, no doubt he’d ensure all his younger children married dragons to continue the strong dragon lineage.

But first, he had to fix whatever had gone wrong.

“We have to end this war before our bloodline weakens further.” King Alaric’s gaze swept the room. The weight of his gaze settled on each of his children. “So I expect you all to focus on what needs to be done. On your duty.”

Luther swallowed as the king stared at him. He wanted to lower his gaze. But he didn’t dare.

He thought of what Senta and Gerard had said. Could he try harder with Warden Onyx? Did he not fulfil his duty by intentionally aggravating his betrothed?

Finally, the king looked at Konrad, who for now remained silent. “We need the bloodline to be repaired. For Draconia. That is all that matters.”