Chapter 56: _ Something is Wrong

I have to avoid Elira, I told myself. For her own good. I will handle this from the background... in my own way.

Vaelor touched down on the sweeping stone landing bay of the Dragon Royal compound with a thud that shook the courtyard.

"Finally," Veyra groaned, leaping down gracefully. "My toes are numb. Vaela, come on, let’s go steal the good bath salts before Olda notices."

Vaela slid down Vaelor’s flank, lingering close to me as I dismounted. She reached out, adjusting the collar of my tunic slowly. "Are you coming upstairs, Remus? I can help you unlace your vest."

"I have to feed Vaelor. Go up with Veyra. I’ll be late." I said, stepping out of her reach.

Vaela bit her lip, looking disappointed, but nodded. "Don’t stay out too long. The night air is bad for you."

I watched them head up the staircase before turning back to my dragon. Maids were already hurrying out with iron buckets filled with raw, spiced meat.

As I unbuckled Vaelor’s saddle, a raucous chorus of drunken laughter echoed across the courtyard.

A dozen senior Dragon students: heirs and heiresses of high-ranking Council members, stumbled through the archway, completely wasted from the ball’s endless wine fountains. Their formal silks were wrinkled, their hair disheveled.

I narrowed my eyes and my pupils contracted into vertical crimson slits as my empathetic sight automatically flared to life.

The air around them turned into a sea of vulgar, heat-drenched emotional signatures.

A red-headed boy was pinning a noble girl against the stone balustrade and when I saw the unbridled arousal burning in his emotional signature, I rubbed my temples. The girl was laughing, her hands tangled in his hair as they made out sloppily against the masonry.

I glanced over at them, ready to look away in disgust... and froze.

For a heart-stopping second, the girl pressed against the wall wasn’t a noble shifter. She had silver hair with brown tinges, pale skin, and expressive eyes.

Elira.

My hand slammed onto Vaelor’s saddle horn, my claws erupting through my leather gloves before I could stop them. I was ready to tear them over the poor boy’s back when I blinked hard, shaking my head.

It wasn’t Elira. It was just a drunk Dragon heiress from the Eastern Provinces, giggling as her partner bit her neck.

Gods above. I dragged a gloved hand down my face. I was losing my mind. I was hallucinating her in the faces of random drunk court girls.

’You are deeply disturbed,’ Vaelor sent through the bond, crunching casually through a leg of mutton. ’And your heart is beating like a frightened hare.’

’Shut up, Vaelor,’ I snapped back silently.

I leaned against the stone pillar, taking deep breaths to force my racing heart to slow down. I couldn’t have her. I couldn’t talk to her. I couldn’t even stand near her without putting her life in jeopardy.

Fine, I thought, my jaw hardening. I’ll look after her from a distance. I’ll keep her alive.

That, at least, was a promise I could keep.

I closed my eyes and brought up the mental catalog of faces I’d recorded during the ball.

First: the Dragon girl in the blue gown who had subtly used her telekinesis to trip Elira when she stepped into my path.

Second: the Sylven boy with the embroidered coat who had whipped a vine across the floor to trip Elira and her friends when they were escorting Clement out of the ball.

I had their faces imprinted in my head.

My pupils thinned into deadly crimson lines. They thought she was an easy target. A markless, lowborn girl they could torment for their own petty amusement.

They were going to learn very quickly how wrong they were. I couldn’t wrap my arms around her, but I could certainly make sure that anyone who laid a finger on her suffered consequences so horrific they’d pray for execution.

Satisfied with the mental list of victims I’d compiled, I turned back to finish unbuckling Vaelor’s tack.

"Master Remus?"

I turned to find one of my father’s senior shadow-wardens standing near the torchlight, bowing.

"What is it?" I asked coldly.

"A sealed missive from the Dragon King, my Lord. It arrived by dark-raven just as the ball concluded."

He held out a black wax-sealed parchment.

Oh, no.

I stared at the parchment in his outstretched hand and a sudden coldness crept into my stomach.

My fingers hesitated before taking it. A letter brought by a dark-raven at this hour was never good news. Dark-ravens were reserved for royal emergencies—matters of high treason, war, or catastrophic breaches in court security.

It had to be about the Anomaly. Or worse, another shift in the prophecies that would put Elira directly in my father’s sights.

"Dismissed," I told the warden.

He bowed deeply and melted back into the courtyard shadows without a sound.

I tucked the letter into the inner pocket of my tunic, unbuckling Vaelor’s last harness strap in record speed. The dread sitting in my chest made my movements fast and tense.

’Something is wrong,’ Vaelor muttered into my mind, nudging my shoulder with his snout

It definitely is...

’Eat your dinner and go to sleep, Vaelor,’ I replied silently, giving his scales a final, hard pat. ’I have a fire to put out.’

Leaving the dragon bay, I strode briskly down the corridor leading into the royal suite. Royal servants stood posted along the hallway, bowing low as I passed.

"Good evening, Your Highness," a line of young maids chorused, keeping their eyes glued to the floor.

I gave them a stiff nod, not slowing my pace for a second. I just wanted to get to my private study, bolt the door, and read what my father had sent.

I always looked forward to his little assignments because to me, life in Last Bastion had grown stale. Nothing in particular interests me, so these occasional tasks were my source of entertainment. Somehow, they also always brought me closer to fully discovering the truth behind my mother and older sister’s death.

However, tonight, because of a Dragonless No-One, I dreaded opening that parchment because I knew... I knew without a doubt that something was wrong.