He looked to where Prince Gerard had been. But the dragon had disappeared. He glanced around. He could see him nowhere.

  Where did he go?

  He saw Colette, still engaged in conversation with the same young dragon. She nodded, waving her hands around as she spoke. Then she giggled at something the young man said.

  Hope she doesn’t give her heart out too quickly. And she better not be sharing secrets she shouldn’t be!

  Although, Elias doubted she would. Perhaps he should try to find out a few details about this young dragon. Elias continued to make small talk with the nobles from Botanial, Voltaria, and Zephyrias. At the same time, he studied the dragon with Colette.

  Was he related to the royal family? Was he some minor lord?

  The back of his neck prickled. He turned. Prince Gerard stood at the other end of the banquet hall, talking with his older brother and sister. He stared straight at Elias. When Elias turned towards him, his gaze darted away.

  Elias smiled.

  Perhaps I’m not the only one intrigued.

  Chapter

  Eleven

  Gerard carried two goblets as he strode across the upper floor of the ballroom, searching for Senta. Below, couples swirled on the dance floor. Tonight, they celebrated the arranged marriage between Princess Dorothye and Shadow Lady Nocturna.

  Theirs was the first betrothal between a dragon and a necromancer. Konrad and whoever he would marry would be the second. For the peace treaty, there would be two marriages between Draconia and each of the kingdoms they’d been at war with, Necros, Botanial, the Grey Mountains, and the combined Kingdoms of Zephyrias and Voltaria.

  A glimpse of white hair caught his eye. Gerard’s breath hitched. The lightning prince stood with Luther on the upper floor. They laughed and talked, standing very close.

  Gerard’s gut tightened.

  Prince Elias lifted his hands into the air, showing off his sparkles for Luther. Once again, Gerard’s scars tingled.

  Luther clapped at Prince Elias’s exhibition. Gerard’s jaw tightened.

  Luther just got married to Warden Onyx. He shouldn’t be flirting with someone else!

  That was why Gerard felt uncomfortable at the display. He wasn’t jealous. He was just displeased with his brother’s behaviour.

  Prince Elias smiled, his face lighting up. Then he leaned forward, touched Luther’s shoulder, and looked into Luther’s handsome unscarred face.

  Gerard turned away. Of course, there might have been a time when Gerard could approach someone like Prince Elias. If he had arrived at a ball and seen the prince across the room, he would have smiled and tried to charm the man. He might have asked him to dance.

  But Gerard did not dance anymore. And he could not charm a slug. Not with this face.

  Where was Luther’s husband, anyway? Then he spotted the man standing, holding two goblets, watching Luther and Prince Elias together. The warden glowered.

  Fucking flames!

  Was Luther going to be just like their father? Always having affairs, not even bothering to hide it from his spouse. Gerard gritted his teeth. Not to mention that the peace treaty was currently in the process of being formed!

  Could Luther not have waited until after peace had been properly secured?

  Gerard had always known his brother’s sense of duty was lacking. Still, he’d thought better of him than this.

  Then Luther spotted Warden Onyx. He stepped away from the lightning prince, who smiled and motioned for Warden Onyx to approach.

  That is … interesting. Father wouldn’t do that.

  He watched the three interacting, uncertain exactly what was happening. After a moment, Prince Elias walked off, hips swaying. He disappeared into the crowd. Gerard leaned to the side, trying to keep the prince in his sights.

  And then Gerard realised what he was doing. Shit! He exhaled. Why am I so drawn to him?

  He’d barely spoke to the lightning prince. And when he had, he’d been thoroughly unimpressed by the man. They had nothing in common. Prince Elias was empty-headed. Not a warrior or useful in any way Gerard could see.

  So why am I so fascinated with him?

  Gerard had never been this swayed by a pretty face before. At least not for more than one night. In the past, he’d been attracted to pretty or handsome men, but if they’d held his interest, they’d also been competent or men of substance. Not like Prince Elias.

  I hope I don’t end up marrying him.

  But a voice in the back of his head whispered, Would that be so bad? They might not be compatible or get along that well. But to have that man in his bed …

  An image of the lightning prince splayed out amongst his sheets, dressed in something flimsy and sheer, staring up at him, filled Gerard’s mind. He swallowed.

  Then he shook his head, dislodging the tempting image. He glanced around.

  Where is Senta?

  Maybe she’d found something more interesting to do. Then he spotted her, dancing below with a woman Gerard did not recognise. He leaned against the balustrade, watching her dance.

  At least she is having fun.

  “You know, I had not seen the dragon warrior in years before this peace assembly,” a young man said.

  He stood directly beneath Gerard on the lower floor. Lord Torrent from Draconia. He lacked the ability to shift. Beside him stood Albert, Gerard’s cousin. Gerard had never gotten along particularly well with Albert. He’d always thought the man to be an arrogant, jealous dick.

  The king had gifted him the title of duke, which should have been an honour. But at the same time, the king had also gifted their cousin Dorothye with the title of princess. No doubt some, including Albert, saw that as a slight and thought he should have been granted the title of prince.

  But what did Albert expect? He might be a competent fighter. But he lacked intelligence and discipline, often getting drunk or behaving inappropriately.

  Still, Albert was the son of the grand dragon warrior in Draconia, who was Gerard’s mentor and aunt. So Gerard had always held his tongue around Albert. However, he’d always gotten the sense that his aunt did not think that well of her youngest child.

  “And what did you think of our dragon warrior?” Albert asked. Despite the noise of the ball, his voice travelled clearly up to Gerard.

  The man didn’t speak for a moment. “Well … I … ah … Honestly?”

  Albert nodded.

  “I was shocked.”

  “Yes. The war did not treat my cousin well.” Albert lifted his goblet to his lips and sipped. “Lightning definitely ruined his face.”

  Gerard held his breath.

  “Of course, I am glad he survived. Praise to the dragon gods!” Lord Torrent paused. “Still, his face …” He trailed off. “It is such a shame. He was once so handsome.” There was a wistful, dreamlike tone to the lord’s voice.

  “He was my first crush, you know,” Lord Torrent said. “So tall, broad, and brooding. I always dreamed of catching his eye.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Of course, he barely looked at me.”

  “Now everyone can barely look at him. And when they do, they feel only pity or disgust,” Albert said, tone so casual for words so cruel.

  Gerard froze as the words sliced deep into his chest. He’d known it, of course. He’d known what people thought when they looked at him. He’d seen people whispering. But to hear the words so clearly articulated …

  Albert gave an exaggerated sigh. “He is going to be married at this peace assembly. I feel sorry for whoever it is he marries.”

  Gerard stepped back from the balustrade. He did not want to hear any more.

  His gaze skittered around the room. How many here had discussed his face in such a way? How many had thought the same things these two did? Did everyone feel only pity and disgust when they saw him?

  His fingers on the goblets tightened. He straightened his shoulders, but he could not bring himself to lift his chin. He gritted his teeth.

  I should not be ashamed of my scars! I fought for Draconia. I almost died for my kingdom. I did my duty. These are the wounds of a warrior. I should not be judged for them!

  Still, he felt as if everyone stared at him, their gazes burrowing beneath into his skin. He lowered his head further.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. And as he did, he could see, so clearly, that white mask with golden zigzags staring up at him. Clever fingers wove. They flicked. Then came agony.

  He sucked in a breath and opened his eyes.

  I am not there anymore! I am safe from harm!

  Still, he turned towards the exit and began to walk. He wanted to get out of here. But someone stepped into his path. Gerard pulled up short.

  No! Not now!

  The lightning prince stood before him. “Good evening, Dragon Warrior.”

  “Good evening,” Gerard muttered. He angled the scarred side of his face away. But of course, that would not completely hide his scars from the prince’s piercing violet eyes.

  “Is one of those free?” Prince Elias asked in a smooth, light voice.

  “What?” Then Gerard realised Prince Elias gestured to the goblets of wine. “Yes. You can have one.” He thrust it towards the prince. Wine sloshed over the edge.

  Prince Elias lifted a brow but took the goblet. “How are you enjoying the ball?”

  “It’s a … fine.”

  Prince Elias’s gaze felt like it scorched Gerard’s skin.

  What is he thinking? Is he revolted? Perhaps Prince Elias felt bad, knowing one of his compatriots had been the cause of Gerard’s wretched face. Was him being nice pity?

  “I was just admiring the stunning gold-and-crystal chandeliers. They were imported from Voltaria. Did you know that?”

  “I did not.” Gerard turned to look at them.

  “And I wonder who painted the ceiling. It really is lovely.”

  Gerard looked at the ceiling, eyes unseeing. But from the corner of his eye, he could see Prince Elias watching him.

  “Now everyone can barely look at him. And when they do, they feel only pity or disgust.”

  “Excuse me. I have to go.” Gerard spun.

  More wine sloshed from his goblet. But he ignored it. He strode away, head down, leaving the ballroom without glancing back. He had to get away from the beautiful lightning prince and his gaze.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  “That’s right. Keep the movement fluid,” Elias instructed. “You’ve spent hours memorising the signs and symbols. Now trust yourself to know them and let them flow.”

  A bead of sweat dripped down Colette’s forehead as she shaped her fingers.

  “You’re doing well. Keep control. Maintain control. That’s good.”

  Her heavy breathing filled her room. Tiny sparks, similar to Elias’s little party tricks, danced between her hands.

  “That’s it. Just that amount. Keep all the rest back.”

  A torrent of power zapped through her blood, desperate and yearning to be set loose onto the world. It would be so easy for Colette to just let go. Far easier than controlling it like she was.

  A vein in Colette’s throat pulsed. Her fingers kept moving, but they trembled, exhaustion pushing her to her limits.

  Her fingers spasmed. A flash of lightning burst from her hand, exploding towards the wall in front of her. She cried out.

  Elias’s left hand snapped forward. He drew the lightning towards him, circling it into a bright ball that spun and crackled between his palms.

  He exhaled and closed his eyes. Slowly, he absorbed the lightning within himself, feeling the energy surge through his body and then dissipate. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes and dropped his hands.

  “I’m so sorry, Elias! I didn’t mean to lose control.” She gripped her skirts.

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s part of the learning experience. That’s why I am here. To capture any lightning you lose control of.”

  Many young sorcerers died from accidentally unleashing their power. And the vast majority did not hold the sort of power Colette held. That was why it was best to test sorcerers before their ability properly manifested.

  Colette sagged, wiping a hand over her sweaty brow. “I’ll get better.”

  “You will.” Elias placed a hand on her back. “You did very well for your first time without bracers, Colette.”

  Since she had started training at thirteen, she’d constantly worn the engraved bracers that controlled one’s power. Problem was, they also dulled and held back one’s magic. Someone like Elias or Colette could not unleash their full strength whilst wearing such bracers.

  So they had to learn to use magic without them. But controlling the magic within took so much energy, strength, and skill. It took years to learn.

  Elias walked to a table and poured some water.

  Colette wiped her sweaty brow. “Uncle Jules said it would be hard. But I didn’t think it would be that hard!”

  He chuckled as he held out the water. She drank it in three large gulps.

  She put down the glass and straightened. “I’ll practice. Constantly.”

  Elias opened his mouth.

  But she got in first, “I won’t practice the magic without the bracers on my own.” She smiled. “But I can practice with the bracers.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. And work on your symbols and signs. It is surprising how quickly you can forget them when your whole body is shaking with power and a dragon is diving straight towards you, about to unleash their dragonfire.”

  Her eyes widened. “I will keep practicing.”

  “Good. Now eat.” He pointed to a plate of bread and sliced meat. “And drink more water. A nap will also help you recover your strength. We’ll go again tomorrow.”

  She gave a firm nod.

  “And if you’re feeling bored, you can catch up on your reading. You’re up to Uncle Jules’s book on the importance of breathwork, right?”

  She cast a glance at said book. “I am.” She sounded less than enthused.

  “Good.” With a chuckle, Elias left her room.

  Unlike Colette, Elias had always enjoyed the studying and reading side of sorcery. He’d liked to learn about theories, how to better improve his craft, and the history of sorcery and magic. He also liked to learn about wind, nature, and earth magic. And he liked to read about the dragons.

  He was also interested in necromancy. But unfortunately, there weren’t many reliable books available to him on the topic. The necromancers did not like to share their secrets with outsiders. Most texts on necromancy Elias had managed to get his hands on tended to be written by non-necromancers and were filled with rumour, myths, and fear mongering.

  Over the past few years, Colette had learnt the basics from their Great-Uncle Jules, the same man who’d trained Elias. But Great-Uncle Jules had just celebrated his eighty-fifth birthday. He had less energy than he once did. So he’d trained Colette in the basics and sent her to Elias for the advanced training.

  This would be Elias’s first time training someone.

  He strode down the corridor in the direction of his room. He’d requested a room near Colette. But instead his room was practically down the opposite end of the corridor with the rest of the family.

  “I thought she’d prefer the room looking out over the water garden. It is so lovely,” his stepmother had said. “And we thought you’d feel more comfortable with a room near us, your family.”

  Elias had had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He was only ever family in her eyes when it inconvenienced Elias and got in the way of what he’d wanted. Still, he’d not made a fuss. That would have pleased her, and she’d have used it against him with his father.

  He could imagine what she’d say. “See! He doesn’t accept us as his family. Even after all these years. He wants to be as far away from us as possible. He doesn’t love us.” She’d said variants of the same thing over and over since Elias was nine.

  So he’d learnt to pick his battles.

  As he strode down the corridor, his thoughts drifted to Prince Gerard. The previous night, he’d approached the man. Prince Gerard had fled. Why?

  Maybe the dragon warrior did not like Elias. He supposed that was unsurprising. Such a serious, brave, and noble man would not be attracted to the frivolous and foolish image Elias presented of himself.

  He exhaled. Pity.

  He passed a doorway. Inside sat his father, stepmother, and half-siblings.

  His father smiled when he saw him. “Elias. Excellent! Come in. We are just discussing the marriages.”

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  “You are discussing the marriages?” Elias asked. “Now?” He left out the Without me? part.

  His father nodded. “We have a council meeting soon where we will discuss who will marry whom.”

  At first Elias had been kept out of all the Voltarian and Zephyrian council meetings at the White Monastery.

  “There is no need for you to be in the meetings,” his stepmother had said. “If too many people are in attendance, it will get confusing.” Unsurprisingly, her sycophant councillors had agreed.

  But Elias had pushed to be at every meeting that involved discussion of his marriage. He’d chosen that battle. He’d won.

  Sometimes he regretted winning. The meetings dragged. They seemed to be more about marriage-adjacent topics, like what colours the flowers should be at the wedding banquet and not who he would actually marry.

  No doubt that was the empress’s doing. Perhaps she hoped he’d get bored of the council meetings and stop coming. But Elias had persevered.

  Although, it seemed his stepmother had decided to do the talks outside the meetings, when he wasn’t present. Thankfully, he’d been walking past.

  Taking a deep breath, Elias stepped into the sitting room, ready to do battle with his stepmother once more.

  I need to get this right. If I fuck this up, I might be married to someone intolerable.

  Empress Emmeline sat, lips pressed together, face pinched, as she stared at her stepson. Clearly, she’d not wanted him here for this conversation. Meanwhile Princess Anais gave him a blank look. Prince Beau sneered.