Page 44 of The Forbidden Dragon King (Shadow Kings #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Silver Banquet Hall, Shadow Court

F reya

The Silver Banquet Hall is warm, flooded by moonlight, and suffocating with Alpha dragon pheromones.

I discretely hold my sleeve over my nose, clutching the golden pitcher of wine to my chest.

The banquet hall is bathed in moonlight from high windows. It makes the frescoes on the walls gleam brighter, which depict silver dragons flying across the court, as if ruling it. Statues of Dracanian kings proudly flank the room, along with couches.

Every courtier and council member appears to have been invited. Betas hurry between them, carrying large platters of wine and food. The silver dragons ignore them, laughing and joking drunkenly, or handfeeding the Omegas who are perched on their laps.

I stand behind the central golden couch, which Aurelius is reclining on, still dressed in his full battle armor.

He only returned from the battle with the vampires an hour ago. His cheek is scratched and caked in dried blood. I don’t know if it’s his own. A smear of dirt stains his neck.

I’m desperate to lean down and wipe off both blood and mud.

A little lick also wouldn’t hurt.

Aurelius, on the other hand, has been avoiding my eye. He’s sitting stiffly. His face is a cold mask. He hasn’t even acknowledged me, as if I’m no different to the other servants.

My chest is tight.

Won’t I feel like a na?ve fool, after how hard I vouched for Aurelius to Daire, if Aurelius turns around and bites us ?

Is he acting like this because he found out about my exploring against the rules into the North Tower? Are dragon fickle assholes?

Did something happen on the skirmish?

Or does Aurelius know more about this evening’s feast than I do, and he’s trying to protect me by ignoring me?

My gaze darts to the large, ornate doors at the back of the hall, as it has for the last few hours since the start of the feast.

Daire isn’t here yet .

My stomach is heaving with nerves about him performing as a courtesan and what may happen.

Yet Daire said that he would be dancing for me alone tonight. I’m clinging to that.

The table between the couches is overflowing with a feast: roast pig stuffed with sausages, wild boar, and beautifully garnished salads.

I don’t recognize all the meat, and I’m not sure that I want to, but the smell still makes my mouth water.

My stomach growls.

How hard would it be to steal some of this for Daire? These greedy raven starvers wouldn’t possibly miss it.

Of course, I’d need to taste it myself, just to be certain of its quality, of course.

Glancing around, I realize that only courtiers and council members are sprawled indolently on the couches.

No ruby, pearl, or jade dragons. No Betas. And that means no Golden Family members are here to act as bodyguards for Aurelius, apart from Lucius.

Is Maximinus deliberately isolating the King?

Lucius is seated without War by the far wall. He’s wearing a flowing tunic with roses stitched at the shoulders.

He’s looking queasy, however, impacted by all the pheromones. His hand is lightly laid on the arm of the pompous council member, who is talking to Lucius like he’s an idiot, at the same time as the Alpha is leering at him.

Lucius is simpering, even though I can see the sharp smile in his eyes .

Whoever this council member is, I give him a week at most, before Lucius finds a way to gut him.

Lucius looks over, catching my eye. Then his gaze darts significantly to Aurelius.

I know what he means.

Protect our King.

It should be ridiculous.

I’m a lowly pet, a wolf shifter servant in the middle of a crowd of the most powerful dragons in the Shadow Court.

Aurelius, on the other hand, gleams in his armor, looking out over the court that he rules. His pheromones are the strongest in the room.

Then why does it feel like he’s the sacrifice?

Something in me softens. Aurelius’ brother was murdered on this day. How is Aurelius managing to hold himself so calmly?

I nod at Lucius, and his eyes crinkle in a secret smile just for me, one between Omegas.

My chest warms.

I lean forward, refilling Aurelius’ gold and ruby goblet with wine.

“Stay close to me,” Aurelius murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. The first words that he’s spoken to me. “Whatever happens tonight, don’t interfere.”

I startle.

He does know something.

He sits back from me, however, raising his wine to his lips like he hasn’t said anything .

I notice that he only takes the smallest sip, pretending to drink. He’s been doing that all night.

I straighten, shuttering my expression.

Where is Daire? Why isn’t he here yet?

The banquet is almost over.

Instinctively, I reach to touch the glossy pinion feather, which I have woven into my hair. I instantly feel more connected to him.

“You couldn’t have cleaned yourself up, boy? No one would know that you were a king and not some rude soldier who’d never learned etiquette.” Maximinus leans over from the couch next to Aurelius’, sounding like a typical indulgent but disapproving uncle.

Except, I know better.

The nearby shifters laugh.

My hands tighten on the pitcher.

Aurelius twirls the goblet between his strong fingers, face impassive. “I flew back all day straight from the battlefield to make sure that I was here as requested, Uncle. I didn’t have time to be bathed in rose petals.”

A dragon in his fifties with short gray hair, hooked nose, and hard gray eyes, chuckles. “Maximinus isn’t the type to pamper himself or anyone else with luxuries like rose petals. I always imagined that he could simply wave his hand and scare the sweat off himself.”

“Whereas you need at least three servants to lick if off, Quintus,” Maximinus replies, dryly.

“I’d rather that they join me in the rose bath.” Quintus looks me up and down in a way that makes my skin crawl .

I bet that he’s the type of asshole who collects people just to break them.

“Are you going to do nothing but glare at that wine all night or respect us by drinking, my boy?” Maximinus demands.

Aurelius looks trapped.

Is he as much of a lightweight as I am?

He has just fought a battle and flown for hours. He must be exhausted.

Now Maximinus is trying to get him drunk in public.

Lucius’ gaze snaps to mine in alarm.

Aurelius glances around, realizing that everyone is watching him. He tilts up his chin, before downing the wine.

The shifters cheer, downing their own.

Maximinus looks smug. “Refill the wine, pet.”

I turn to Aurelius for guidance, but he isn’t meeting my eye. Reluctantly, I fill up his goblet.

Can he control his emotions when he’s drunk?

Aurelius’ eyes are heavy. He pushes himself to sit up straight on the couch but he’s swaying.

Lucius peels himself away from the man who has been pawing at him and pushes himself up.

Maximinus holds up his goblet. “We are here to remember our great and good King Tarquin. He led both the wars against the Shadow Fae, devastating their number. He outwitted the Shadow Vampires. He led us toward a glorious new age. Yet he was no mere warrior.” I wince, when Maximinus glances significantly at Aurelius.

“He was also a statesman. A scholar. Noble and respected. By his death, we have lost the best amongst us.”

Aurelius sits stony faced, as the dragons murmur their agreement.

“His cruel murder within the walls of our own palace, still not resolved, weighs heavily on the entire kingdom.” Maximinus sighs, as a deep silence falls over the room. What is he implying? “I raise a toast, however, to my nephew and a shining example for the realms. To King Tarquin.”

Maximinus stands, lifting his goblet.

Throughout the hall, every shifter follows suit.

Aurelius stands as well, but when they drink, he doesn’t.

Maximinus’ expression becomes thunderous. “You won’t drink to my toast…?”

“You know that I don’t keep my control well under the effects of alcohol,” Aurelius hisses back.

“Drink,” Maximinus growls, “to your dead brother.”

Panic rushes through me.

“I’ll drink for him.” Lucius gives a bright, brittle smile, diving around the table to snatch Aurelius’ drink and down it for him.

Maximinus hurls his goblet at Lucius. It hits him across the face, slicing open his cheek.

I startle in shock, as Lucius cradles his swollen eye and bleeding cheek, but still doesn’t take a step back. Blood drips between his small fingers.

“Uncle,” Aurelius snarls in shock.

The entire room falls into a tense silence .

“I have toasted your dead brother.” Maximinus flicks his wrist, magically raising a fresh silver goblet off the table and lifting it, until it cracks against Aurelius’ closed mouth. “Our murdered King. Or do you dishonor the memory of your own kin?”

I’m shaking.

I stare at Lucius, who smears the blood off his cheek. Aurelius and he appear to be communicating without saying anything.

Then reluctantly, Lucius staggers back to his couch. Instantly, a group of Alpha courtiers gather around him, instinctively protective of the pretty Omega. Lucius allows himself to be petted and soothed.

It’s obvious that Lucius is liked within the court. The public violence against him wasn’t popular.

Lucius hasn’t only gained his status because of his closeness to Aurelius or by being War’s dragon rider.

It’s an intriguing thought how much power I may also be able to wield as an Omega within this court, compared to holding none at all in the Moon Court.

Finally, Aurelius snatches the stem of the goblet, and Maximinus allows him to control it.

Aurelius downs the wine.

Maximinus gestures to me. “Again. To King Tarquin.”

Aurelius stands, unmoving.

Reluctantly, I refill his goblet. Again, he downs it.

Over and over, Maximinus toasts King Tarquin, and Aurelius alone is forced to drink in the strained silence of the room.

What the hell is Maximinus planning ?

Aurelius is swaying now. His gaze is hazy.

When the goblet finally slips from Aurelius’ fingers, and Aurelius falls back onto the couch, Maximinus claps his hands.