Page 65 of Courting the Dragon Prince (A Royal Arrangement #1)

Chapter Sixty-Five

L uther and Onyx stepped out of the meeting chamber, Grand Monk Ferdinand following.

“It is truly terrible what you have both been through.” The grand monk shook his head. “I cannot believe that Warden Flint would attempt treason, regicide, and nepoticide. I am just glad that he didn’t succeed and that Your Highnesses are both all right.”

That morning, when Onyx and Luther had arrived at the White Monastery, they’d alerted Luther’s father to what had occurred. King Alaric had immediately organised an emergency meeting with the other heads of the royal houses, a handful of advisers, and the grand monk to discuss the recent events.

“And to find out that Warden Flint has been plotting with another …” The grand monk’s bushy white brows lowered. “It is terrible. Truly terrible. I have always known there are those who oppose peace.” He trailed off. “But I had not prepared myself for the violence and the lengths a depraved individual might go to.”

Luther listened with only half an ear to the grand monk. Instead, his gaze followed the others as they left the meeting chamber. He studied those from Draconia, Botanial, Voltaria, Zephyrias, Necros, and the Grey Mountains, trying to ascertain if any behaved suspiciously.

Everyone else seemed to be doing the same as him though. They glanced around furtively as if wondering who amongst them they could trust and who was the enemy who’d be willing to kill to destroy their chance at peace.

Honestly, Luther had no idea how he would even go about spotting a traitor. He’d had no inkling that Warden Flint would betray them. Neither had Onyx, and Onyx was his nephew. They’d been close. If Onyx couldn’t see the man was a traitor, what chance did any of them have at finding those plotting against them?

Unfortunately, the identity of the individual Warden Flint had been corresponding with had been unclear from reading the letters. Warden Flint and his co-conspirator had written in such a way that their identity had been hidden.

And even though Onyx and Luther had pored over the letters for hours after Lady Larimar came to see them, they’d not discovered much else of use. Everything had been alluded to rather than explicitly stated. The main useful information that they had learnt from the letters was that Warden Flint had been plotting with at least one other person. But the letters were so vague that more individuals might be involved.

But what were these plots, and who were these plotters, and how would they uncover them? They’d brought the letters back with them to the monastery so others could look through them. Hopefully someone would pick up on something they’d missed.

Striding from the meeting chamber, Luther’s father and his eldest brother, Konrad, spoke heatedly in lowered tones. Konrad’s gaze followed the necromancers as they walked down the high-ceilinged corridor.

Luther could easily guess who Konrad thought had been plotting with Warden Flint. Although, Luther was not sure. The necromancers were creepy and their methods questionable and fucking repulsive. But did that mean they did not want peace? Did that mean they wanted war?

“We must all keep our eyes open,” the grand monk said, voice solemn. “We all must remain vigilant and alert.”

Luther nodded.

“Of course, Grand Monk,” Onyx replied.

“Stay safe, Your Highnesses,” the grand monk said. “May peace guide your steps.”

“Yours too,” Onyx said.

The grand monk bowed to them and left.

Luther and Onyx headed in the direction of the Draconian rooms. Limping, Luther leaned on his cane as they walked. Onyx stood close to him as if ready to reach out and grab Luther if he so much as wobbled.

“You all right?” Onyx asked.

“Why? Are you going to offer to give me a piggyback?” Luther smiled.

Onyx shook his head and chuckled. “I was just going to offer you my arm.”

“My cane is enough for now, thank you.”

King Alaric and Konrad approached them, their conversation apparently over. Konrad wore a sullen expression, lips pressed together in a tight line as if he’d been scolded into submission. Luther knew his brother though. He’d be back and fighting their father in no time.

His father glanced at Luther’s leg. “What did my healer have to say?”

Whilst the king had sent messages to organise the assembly, his father’s healer had treated Luther’s leg.

“He healed it as best he could. It doesn’t hurt at present,” Luther said. “I will periodically see him for continued healing sessions. But he believes it will probably never fully heal. There may also be some pain at times. But certain herbal teas should be able to deal with that.”

From the corner of Luther’s eye, he saw Onyx frown.

King Alaric stared at Luther as they walked. Luther fought the urge to duck his head, afraid he was going to be reprimanded for not thinking things through during their fight and, as a result, permanently wounding himself.

But his father stopped and faced Luther. Luther stopped too, and so did the others.

“You did the right thing, Luther,” King Alaric said. “You did what you needed to do to win the battle.”

Luther gaped.

“You were willing to sacrifice your body for Draconia. You did well facing Warden Flint.” King Alaric’s gaze turned to Warden Onyx. “You both did. You should be proud of how you have conducted yourselves.”

Luther could not speak. Was that … praise? From his father? He almost laughed. Had his father actually praised him? Luther had had so little experience with this. He didn’t know how to respond but stare at his father as giddy, tingly warmth spread through him.

Thankfully, Onyx seemed more coherent. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

King Alaric nodded again and continued towards the Draconian section of the monastery. Luther and the others walked with him.

King Alaric’s lip curled. “Although, it is hard enough work getting this peace accord together without snakes and traitors amongst us. We must find them. We must hunt them down and destroy them.”

The Draconian guards opened the doors, and the four of them entered the Draconian rooms. The doors had barely opened when Senta, Gerard, and the queen consort burst from one of the smaller sitting rooms.

“There have been rumours everywhere. What happened in the Grey Mountains?” Senta asked.

“Is everyone all right?” Queen Consort Adelina’s gaze darted between Onyx and Luther.

“Come.” Their father strode to the sitting room the others had just vacated. “We’ll discuss recent events in here.”