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CHAPTER ONE
G one! Everything was gone.
Aurelius glanced at his mother’s drawn face. Would she ever find happiness again? It was now his responsibility to care for her—and already he was failing.
He clutched the offending missive between trembling fingers, still not quite believing what he was seeing. But the king’s signature and seal glared up at him, crisp and clear.
His worst fears had come to pass: not only had he lost all of their finances, but now his title—his very identity—was being stripped from him.
Aurelius cast one last longing look at Chrysion Hall—its strong white Corinthian pillars standing proudly, bearing the weight of both the majestic building and the memories of his childhood. The pristine gardens mocked him with their grandeur as he was forced into the waiting carriage with his mother. One poor investment, combined with his father’s debts and King Iver’s disdain, had divested him of everything.
Lord Aurelius of Sovia was no more.
His gut clenched as the coach ambled down the road, past his beautiful ancestral land and toward the farthest reaches of the Bannwood Forest—isolated from all civilization.
The world he knew was crashing down around him, crumbling to bits like the dust billowing up past the creaking wheels, as worthless as the name he once bore.
Mama reached out, clasping his hand in hers. “We’ll get through this, Aurie.” Her lips pressed together in determined optimism; the blue eyes he’d inherited from her shone against smooth ebony skin, hiding the pain she must be feeling.
As usual, she refused to see him for the failure he knew he was. Aurelius’s thoughts turned bitter. His father had known all along. Now, mere months after that cantankerous man’s passing, the weight of his failures surrounded his widow and son—embodied by the king’s scowling men riding alongside the carriage sent to ensure Aurie’s exile, as harsh and indelible as the stain on his reputation and his lost title.
After arriving with the life-altering missive, the king’s men had allowed them only a few short hours to pack their belongings and leave. Mama had been near tears at the mandate.
Aurelius wrapped her in his comforting embrace.“We’ll get through this, Mama. Take what is most important. The rest of it is just stuff.”
She sniffed. “I know, I’m probably being silly and sentimental.”
“No. This wouldn’t be easy for anyone, Mama.” He glared over her head at the king’s men, resentment simmering beneath his calm. Why hadn’t they allowed more time? Pleading had done little good. He shouldn’t have expected any better from the king.
And then, as if stealing their dignity wasn’t enough, the audacious men had ordered the servants to leave as well.
That was where Aurelius drew the line.
“You have no say over the employment of my servants.”
His gaze found Mrs. Calla, who clutched her daughter protectively. The woman had baked bread and simmered stews for him since he was a boy, and young Lyra recently began serving Mama.
“Gather your things,” he said gently. “You’re welcome to join me and Mama. We’ll still need a cook and a lady’s maid. And tell Galen I’m still in desperate need of a steward.”
Now, Aurie tried to ignore their unwanted escort as Galen drove the carriage away from the only home he had ever known. Once certain they could no longer turn back, the men had ridden off and left the outcasts to their bleak future.
At least his father was no longer around to gloat.
After a long and uncomfortable drive, they pulled in front of a small manor. More of a cottage really, Aurie thought, far smaller than the home they had left behind. Though she tried to conceal it, he saw Mama’s discouragement. Her strained smile resembled a grimace as they looked at the manor. “Well, sitting around won’t accomplish anything. Let’s go see how Everrose looks after all these years.”
While he appreciated her attempt at optimism, her words weren’t enough to lift his spirits as he stepped down from the carriage. Nearby, Galen was busy unpacking their meager belongings—there were no other servants around to help. He held his arm out to Mama, a small gesture of dignity in a place that offered none. He was supposed to protect her from a life like this, not be the cause of it.
It hadn’t helped his cause that he’d opposed King Iver at every turn. The monarch likely rejoiced at the excuse to rid himself of the young upstart lord who loudly decried the laws that burdened the people with unreasonable taxes. King Iver, like Aurelius’s father, only ever saw gold—people were a means to an end. It would be ridiculous for Aurelius to imagine receiving the king’s favor. Or even wanting it.
Yet, for all his ideals, Aurie now found himself penniless and homeless—well, almost homeless.
Thankfully, Mama owned Everrose Manor. He stared at the once-handsome estate. Gray stone walls peeked through strangling ivy. Weathered shutters hung beside the tall arched windows, angled like broken wings.
Mama patted his arm. “Come, my dear, it’s getting late. Let’s go inside.”
Forest shadows closed around them, weaving a cramped network of isolation. They were so close to the Valkovian border here that the land was nearly lost to the Mistral Mountains, their forced sanctuary. While thankful for shelter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that any value he’d once held was forever lost to his past. Society had no purpose for an ex-lord.
He nodded numbly and sighed. “Of course.”
A wolf howled in the distance. It wasn’t safe out here.
Together, they toured the manor that had sat in disrepair for decades. Luxury had surrounded Aurelius his entire life. And now he was reduced to this? Out-of-date furnishings with a layer of dust covering every surface. Repairs would almost certainly cost more than what little money he had left to his name. How could he even begin to afford to replace the once elegant furniture and to repaper the rooms with the high vaulted ceilings? They would have to repair what they could on their own. He consoled himself with the knowledge that no one was around to witness the levels of depravity to which they had sunk.
However, one room gave him pause—his father’s gallery.
Aurie had managed to save a few of his favorite paintings from Chrysion Hall—there hadn’t been time for much more. He had nearly forgotten about the art collection here at Everrose, but it had evidently been well preserved in their absence. Curious, he tugged down the fabric draped over one of the paintings to reveal a familiar image of a boy gazing longingly at a rose garden—his painting. His heart stuttered. What is this doing here? He’d given it to Mama years ago, but Papa always said his skills were mediocre at best.
When the family visited this cottage in his childhood, Papa had built the gallery to show all the neighbors their wealth and status. But as time passed, the family had stopped coming to Everrose. His father came to hate “that tiny cottage on the edge of nothing.”
Aurie drew a long breath and turned from the painting, filled with fresh determination. He couldn’t wallow in self-pity any longer. Mama needed him. And something about the place sparked hope that, perhaps, he could make a home here. “I’m going to fix this, Mama.”
They would do more than survive—he would rectify things. He would build a home and a life that would make Mama proud.
W hile Aurie, his mother, and the servants spent the next several weeks working to restore Everrose Manor to its former glory—or at least to a tolerable level of comfort—Aurie remained confident that with enough determination and a few tasteful furnishings, they could somehow reclaim the wealth and happiness they once knew. Then he would prove to King Iver and his father just how wrong they had been—that he was worthy and valuable, a man to be respected. Not one to be tossed aside.
Aurie tapped his quill upon the desk in his office, puzzling over the problem for the hundredth time. Investments obviously hadn’t been the answer. One poor investment had landed him in this situation in the first place, but perhaps he had been looking in all the wrong places. His eyes scanned the room, hoping for some kind of inspiration. If only he could magically make all his problems disappear…
That’s it! Magic! Why hadn’t he considered it before? Magic could solve many problems. Why couldn’t it help him now? He was no mage, but surely, he could find someone or something to help.
He pressed his lips together as his quill tapped all the faster. Yes, there had to be a magical way to solve his problems—except that mages who sold their services were notorious for misrepresenting themselves. How could he ensure that he’d found a reputable one? Not just any mage would know how to help restore him to his wealth and power—he would need to find a high-level mage—an enchanter.
As he pondered this conundrum, his eyes landed on a book of dragons tucked away on his shelf. Unless… A smile spread across his face. Who better to ask for power and wealth than the creature who valued such things? Better yet, they were old enough to understand the most powerful of magic.
Yes! Aurie jumped to his feet. His circumstances were about to change for the better.
* * *
P lain gray stones turned to crystal as he drew closer to the cave. They sparkled red and gold in the radiance of the setting sun behind him. As he approached the entrance, a spectacular prism of light glowed, cascading rainbows all around the cave’s opening—confirming that he was in the right place.
Months had passed since he concocted his plan. His mother had fretted over his obsession—watching as he poured over research day and night, then disappeared for weeks at a time to search. He had been all through the Mistral Mountains on his quest—and it was finally— finally paying off.
Aurie had found an elusive dragon’s lair.
Dragons were famous for adorning their homes with layers of magic and beauty to house their hordes, but even the grandest stories and tales had not prepared him for the wondrous cavern before him.
The promise of gold and untold riches within taunted him. What he’d do to claim some treasure for himself! A single handful of the treasure from the stories would go a long way toward restoring his wealth. However, he was wise enough to heed the warnings in those stories. Dragons cursed or killed unwanted trespassers. Besides, he would gain far more by seeking the dragon’s help rather than incurring its wrath.
Donning his courage like a well-worn cloak, Aurie took a deep breath, clapped three times as forcefully as he could—as was the tradition—and declared, “Greetings, oh Great One. I am L—Aurelius of Sovia.” He caught himself just in time—he needed to remember that his title was gone, and accidentally mentioning it would do more harm than good. “I’ve come seeking your great wisdom.”
He then pulled his sword from its scabbard and stabbed it into the ground and knelt. Keeping his hands upon the hilt, he bowed his head. One must never appear to be a threat to a dragon unless one wished to lose one’s life. Complete submissiveness was key.
The minutes stretched out, time passing interminably as he waited. The sun sank below the ridges of the mountains, and still Aurie stayed. His legs trembled from the strain of kneeling. He wondered if he ought to repeat himself. Had he been loud enough? Perhaps the dragon wasn’t even at home. Yet he knew the possibly deadly consequences that awaited impatient men, so he continued to wait, his head lowered. If it seemed the dragon either wouldn’t engage in conversation or wasn’t present, he’d slowly back away, keeping his head down and sword lowered.
Just when he thought his legs might give way, a deep rumble shook the ground, followed by a gruff, rasping voice booming inside of his head. What do you want, human?
Aurie winced and glanced furtively about, keeping his head down. He knew dragons communicated differently, but experiencing it firsthand was quite unexpected.
A growling chuckle rang through his mind. You may rise, human, and look upon me.
As he lifted his head, he saw a glint of red, then all at once, the large, magnificent form of a dragon stood before him. Towering over him, as immense as two bears standing one on top of the other. His ruby red scales shimmered as if creating a light all their own. The dragon tilted his massive head as he studied Aurelius, his expression unreadable.
Why have you come?
Aurie’s insides trembled at the terrifying creature before him. Confronting a dragon suddenly felt like a terrible idea, and part of him began calculating a hasty exit. When he’d first concocted this senseless plan, he’d reasoned that things could not be any worse—but standing before the dragon now, he realized they could indeed get worse. This powerful creature was just as likely to hurt him as to help him. Indeed, why would he help a lowly human like himself?
His mother’s face flashed in his mind. After coming all this way, he had to try. It was the least he could do. She deserved so much more than he had to give. Before he could second-guess himself, he took a deep breath and opened his mouth, hoping for the appropriate words. “Oh, great and powerful dragon, I come seeking a solution only you can find.” It was always best to stroke a dragon’s ego while in its presence. “Everything—my money, my home, my land—even my title—has been stripped from me.”
And you wish for me to bring it back. The dragon’s intense look was disdainful. I don’t deal with human politics. His wings fluttered restlessly, and he huffed, creating a warm wind that tossed around Aurelius’ jerkin and hair.
Aurie’s fingers turned white as he clutched the hilt of his sword with all his might. “I-I no—I learned of the legendary treasures and power of the dragons and?—”
A booming growl filled his head, cutting his words short. Aurie’s eyes squeezed closed, and he gritted his teeth together at the dragon’s growing agitation. Have you come to steal my treasure?!
What had he been thinking? Why had he ever mentioned the treasure? He shook his head vigorously and rushed to explain, desperate to fix the muddle he was making of this. “No-no! Of course not. I would never suggest such a thing!” Sweat dampened his brow. “Knowing your brilliant success with gaining treasure, I seek your wisdom on how I might also gain such wealth. No one could possibly know better than your esteemed self.” With his head down, he squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body tensing with fear as he prayed to the Great Creator not to let him die here. He wanted a chance to redeem himself, to prove his worth, but this plan had been foolhardy from the beginning. The dragon was sure to strike him down now. He deserved no less.
The blow he expected never came. Instead, the air became still. He opened his eyes. The dragon had folded his wings and stared at him critically.
You think treasure and wealth will solve your problems?
“We humans put a lot of stock in gold.” Aurie couldn’t look up at the dragon as he spoke. “If I had the finances, I could take proper care of my mother and perhaps even convince King Iver to give me back my land and title. Without it, I am nothing.”
The dragon’s face was much too close, peering at him with his large reptilian eyes. Is the place you currently live not an acceptable home? Your mother cannot be happy in reduced circumstances? Can you not raise funds of your own? Do honest work you can be proud of?
Aurie couldn’t hide his grimace as his thoughts turned to the small manor he and his mother now resided in. “It is hardly what we are accustomed to. Besides, I cannot bear the thought of my land and title going to some unknown upstart.” The vehemence of his words shocked even him. He hadn’t realized he held such resentment toward whoever took his place.
The dragon contemplated him for several long moments, his hot breath seeming to singe Aurie’s hair.
Should he step back? No, he mustn’t falter.
What will you give me? The voice booming inside his head startled him. He had been preparing for the worst. This near consent was quite shocking.
What could he offer a dragon? His mind raced, frantic to come up with something—but he had nothing of value left. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Of course the dragon wouldn’t give him something for nothing! He had been so consumed with finding this place, so sure it was the answer, that he had been reckless.
The dragon grew impatient with his floundering. Aurelius winced, sure a blow was coming.
What is it worth to you? This status and wealth and revenge? Are there not more important things in life?
Aurie blinked at the unexpected question. “Status and wealth give you everything in life. Without it—I am nothing. Without it, I cannot care for my mother who’s now my responsibility. I have failed her—and my late father.”
Another long, uncomfortable silence stretched out as the dragon studied him, seeming to peer into his very soul. He nodded once sharply. I will grant your desire. Perhaps it will teach you what has true value in this life. Unless your heart becomes consumed with it instead. Then you would no longer be a problem to the humans—or to me.
Aurie furrowed his brow at this ominous sounding riddle, shocked he was alive and uncertain how to ask for clarity and remain so.
The dragon’s large mouth opened. Aurie squeezed his eyes shut, sure the dragon had tired of him and would now strike. His heart pounded frantically, preparing to meet his fiery end—but instead, hot breath blew over him, making his skin tingle from head to toe. He gasped and pressed a hand against his heated chest, as a strange sensation filled his heart. Magic hummed and shimmered all around him. His clothing became unexpectedly stiff and heavy. Even the sword beneath his hand seemed to tingle from the dragon’s breath—and yet he did not feel the burn of fire or smell the acrid smoke he’d expected.
He was still alive.
When he opened his eyes, he was even more shocked to discover that the sword beneath his hands had transformed entirely into gold. He gazed at its gleaming surface in awe, not quite comprehending what was happening. His mind raced with the possibility of selling it and how much he could gain. It may not be enough to restore what he had lost, but it was a start, and if he invested the funds correctly this time…
I have given you the touch of gold.
The dragon’s rasping voice in his head brought him even more elation. The touch of gold?!
Everything you touch will turn to gold.
Aurie’s eyes widened and his heart raced as the possibilities exploded in his head. He would be the wealthiest man alive! Then, the king would surely see his value and give back what was rightfully his.
The golden touch is a powerful thing—and no respecter of persons. The dragon’s warning resonated deep within him. Be careful that you don’t allow greed’s flame to consume you or your heart will be mine. You will forget your humanity and become a creature who only loves treasure.
But such was Aurie’s excitement that he was only half listening. Of course, he wouldn’t allow it to consume him. He only wished to take back what was rightfully his.
To reverse the spell, you must demonstrate that you long for the golden touch to be removed more than you long for riches and power. However, I will warn you that all of the gold will revert to what it once was.
He couldn’t fathom wanting to lose such a blessing, especially if it meant everything would return to the way it was before—as if he’d never received the gift.
A strange grin spread across the dragon’s lips. I’ve always wanted a human heart. The dragon’s chuckle reverberated within Aurie’s chest as it stepped past him, out of the cave. Powerful wings blew a mighty wind around him, and then the dragon was gone, his large form disappearing into the sky.
A human heart? What could he mean by that? Aurie pressed a hand against his chest, his heart pounding wildly. He reassured himself that it was still there. The dragon couldn’t possibly take it from him.