The Blood's Flame (The Dragons of Flareia Book 1)

Chapter 11 - Kylan

The Palace of Stars

26th Year of the Ocean

2nd Moon

One of the main changes in Kylan's life following him becoming Tenebrille's second Dragonheir was the fact that mealtimes were quickly becoming his least favourite time of the day.

This had nothing to do with the food – no, the food was always incredible, which made this fact even more saddening. This had nothing to do with the fact that his mother and two younger siblings had recently moved into the Palace of Stars and had started dining with him in the main dining hall. No – this had everything to do with the fact that Emperor Nequami was quite an insufferable man. There had yet to be a single mealtime which Kylan left without wishing to punch the Emperor in the face.

How did this guy even become Emperor? He asked Tenebrille as he played with the food on his plate.

Unfortunately for us and the rest of Umbrassé, he was his father's only son. Tenebrille grumbled. He practically named himself Emperor before his father had even breathed his last breath.

Unfortunately for me, Kylan thought, Emperor Nequami seems to have far too much breath left – all of which he seems intent on wasting by speaking.

"What say you, Lord Dragonheir?"

Kylan flinched and dropped his fork with a loud clatter. He was saved from answering the Emperor because the fork eventually landed on the floor – under the table. "Excuse me," Kylan said, pushing his chair back from the table to retrieve his fork. One of the servants scrambled over to clean up the mess as Kylan pulled his chair back in and faced the Emperor. "Sorry, what were you saying?" He asked.

The Emperor clasped his chubby hands together, resting them on the table. "Would you like to tour the other Flareian countries?" He asked, his eyebrows raised. "Naturally, it is likely they have heard of your ascension, yet I believe we should leap at this chance to showcase our newfound power to the other nations."

Kylan couldn't stop himself from scoffing. "You wish to boast of 'your' newfound power, yet Tenebrille of the Shadows still refuses to talk to you directly, though many of the other dragons speak with their leaders freely." He said – he could hear the venom in his own voice, but it was too late to cover it. "Surely you must wonder what this means concerning the validity of your rule."

Nequami's hands closed into chubby fists that would probably be no use in a fistfight. If it ever came down to it, Kylan thought, I'd be able to take him.

"I am the Emperor." Nequami snapped.

"A self-proclaimed Emperor," Kylan pointed out, "who's rule hasn't seen a year free of unrest." He raised his eyebrows. "Do you think it a coincidence, for Tenebrille to finally choose a second Dragonheir as you run his country to ruin?"

Nequami narrowed his eyes. "And do you think it possible for a gambler from the Barren such as yourself to lead the country in my stead?"

Kylan sensed his family around him wishing they could sink into the backs of their chairs and disappear. So he simply laughed. "That wasn't what I was implying at all, Emperor."

Beneath the table, Seraphi wandered past, brushing her slim tail against Kylan's legs. You want Emperor Nequami to trust you, Kylan of the Light. Threatening his right to rule is unlikely to achieve that.

Kylan nearly rolled his eyes. Whether he trusts me or not, he can't turn me out of the Palace. To lose me would be to lose the new power he sees in Tenebrille that was untouchable for him before. He won't admit it, but he can't touch me.