The Queen of Dragons - discontinued in a sense

Chapter 1: Rude Awakening

Valentine was typically an over-sleeper. For a prince you'd think he'd be very prim and proper, though sleep was pretty enjoyable, especially when there were no royal duties or whatever royal related things that you had to attend to. Even when he had princely duties, his bed was typically a lot more preferable than duties. His bed was comforting like his mom's hugs, perfect for slacking off in duties and instead taking a nap.

Even if he was an over-sleeper he was either awakened by maids; typically if his moms needed him for something, they wouldn't wake him up without the queen's orders. Or most of the time a certain dragon/human sneaking in from a balcony door in his room would wake him up, roughly. 

Valentine's sense of touch recognized the rough, scaly feeling of a dragon's wing on his face, he groaned and rolled over, praying it was some oddly realistic dream he was having, where a dragon was slapping him in the face with its wing. It was, in fact, not a dream, the wing slapped him, then slapped him again, then another wing slapped him, but this wing was light and feathery, like what you'd think an angel wing that was embracing you would feel like and very tiny compared to other wings slapping him across the face. There was only one dragon who would wake him up so tenderly, Genevieve.

Valentine grabbed one of his overly fluffed up pillows and threw it towards the body that belonged to the leathery wing, without opening his eyes, if he opened his eyes then his sleep would be disturbed. The body belonging to the wing growled in playful anger, like she wanted to play.

"Eugh, Genevieve go awayyyyy, I'm sleeping, god it's like the 6th half sun (6 in the morning, when the sun is rising it's a half sun, if the sun is lowering it's a half moon).

There was a moment of silence where Valentine's brain didn't process that Genevieve, his pet dragon he found when he was young, around 3 or 4, was not supposed to be in his room.

"Wait. Wait a minute. GENEVIEVE YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN HERE. HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?????" Valentine shot up and rubbed his eyes as they slowly processed his room around him, his floors that shined clean, the maids never slacked in duty, his walls that were crimson red like a rose, and his balcony door, which was now open with a light, playful breeze coming through. Genevieve, a black dragon with crimson touches to her, gave a lively yip from the floor on the magenta carpet. Genevieve was too big to be in his room, even as a prince he requested his mothers not give him a big room because too much space would be useless (that turned out wrong because there's a somewhat medium sized dragon in there that obviously can barely fit in the room).

"Out the window you came from, please, I can't afford to get in trouble with my moms because there's a dragon sleeping on my carpet. Again." Valentine looked at Genevieve with the look of disappointment and pointed to the open balcony door.

Genevieve grumbled a low rumble and stomped over to the open balcony door, and swooped off with a great swing of her medium sized wings. She'd hopefully fly back to the stables that they made specifically to house her, near the wooden area that led to the Shrine of Stars. 

"Great now these stupid wing-ears- or head-wings on my head are awake." Valentine kicked his feet from under his blankets and shook his head to move the light, feathery, angelic like wings back to resting on the side of his head. People around him always argued about if the wings were a curse or a blessing from the Sky gods. Some people said that the Sky gods gave them to him because he thought he was too powerful and the wings were supposed to somehow ward off evil and power controlling thoughts. Some say they were just simple symbolism of the fact he's a 'prophecy' of some sort. He really had no idea what they were, they just annoyed him and got in his face all the time, like they had a stupid mind of their own.

A bell rang throughout his room, 11 times exactly. He shook his head and then threw himself out of the bed. It was late, very late, the 11th sun of the day (11 AM). This was the 3rd time this week he'd slept to the 11th sun. His moms never had the heart to wake him up, said he was too adorable of a sleeping child to be woken up, Sari disagreed, if Sari decided to climb through his balcony she would've kicked him out of bed and threw him downstairs to eat breakfast.