Chapter 676: Nobody Puts Onyx In Triangle

Onyx and Avalon were standing at attention with their chests puffed out so far their front legs were barely touching the ground.

Onyx’s chin was elevated at an angle that said I am a serious military dragon and I have always been a serious military dragon. Avalon’s wings were tucked with a precision he had never once demonstrated in any previous drill because previous drills had been conducted by Caelum and Caelum did not carry the authority of a dead king whose presence made dragon bones vibrate.

The Dragon King stopped. His gold eyes moved over Onyx first. Then Avalon.

His hand came up. He ran his palm across Onyx’s flank. Slowly. Then Avalon’s. The touch was diagnostic, reading their scales the way a healer reads a pulse.

"These two." He turned to Caelum. "Their scale maintenance is exceptional. The luster, the density, the oil saturation. This is meticulous work. How often are they treated?"

Caelum’s mouth opened. Caelum’s mouth closed. Caelum’s mouth had no idea what to do because he had never once applied oil to either dragon and both dragons had been AWOL from his program.

"I... maintain a rigorous grooming protocol, Your Highness."

The lie left his mouth and immediately tried to crawl back in. Caelum’s face turned a shade of red that medical science would find educational.

Onyx and Avalon stood taller. Their chests inflated another inch. Two dragons accepting full credit for a grooming regimen they had contributed nothing to except lying still and being pampered, and the acceptance was shameless.

Tiberon, who knew exactly where the grooming was happening and exactly who was performing it, said nothing. His left eye twitched.

"Commendable," the Dragon King said to Caelum. "Continue."

Caelum nodded with desperate enthusiasm. He had just been praised for someone else’s work and was now contractually obligated to maintain a standard he had no idea how to replicate.

The Dragon King turned back to the formation.

"The schedule has been posted. Training begins at the fifth hour tomorrow. Every dragon present. No exceptions."

Every dragon on the field went still with the specific stillness of creatures who had seen the schedule and were hoping it was decorative.

It was not decorative.

Onyx exchanged one glance with Avalon, which translated to: we will not be doing that.

✦✦✦

The Dragon King returned to the training field at dusk.

The day had been productive. Formation drills completed. Altitude assessments conducted. Handler Caelum had received seventeen corrections, fourteen recommendations, and one compliment, and the compliment had been for the grooming he hadn’t done, which meant he was operating at a net positive built entirely on fraud.

The field was clearing. Handlers were leading their dragons toward the roost. The last light of the day painted the grounds in amber and shadow.

Then his eyes found Onyx and Avalon.

Both dragons were sitting on the stone bench near the field entrance. Side by side. Scales gleaming in the sunset with the specific, unmistakable luster of freshly applied moonstone compound.

They were wearing tuxedos.

Onyx’s was black satin with gold threading along the collar. Avalon’s was midnight blue with silver detailing on the lapels. Both were fitted. Both were tailored. Both carried the hallmarks of garments that had been measured, cut, and sewn for specific dragon bodies by someone whose dedication to baby dragon formalwear had transcended hobby and entered the territory of vocation.

The Dragon King stopped walking.

He looked at the tuxedos. He looked at the dragons wearing the tuxedos. He looked at the tuxedos again, because the first look had not produced an explanation and the second look was an appeal for one.

Onyx met his gaze. Direct. Unblinking. His tuxedo was new, his scales were oiled, and his afternoon had been significantly better than his morning. The confidence was absolute.

Avalon’s wings adjusted by a quarter inch beneath the midnight blue fabric. Showing off the fit.

The Dragon King turned to Caelum. "Explain."

"They show up like this after their enrichment, Your Highness."

Tiberon watched two dragons who had spent their morning on velvet cushions stand at military attention like they’d never missed a drill in their lives.

"Enrichment."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"These are military assets."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Wearing garments."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The Dragon King looked at Tiberon, who was standing ten feet away with his arms crossed, watching the exchange the way he’d been watching this exact conflict unfold for days: from every possible angle, participating in none of them.

Onyx chirped once. The chirp was polite, measured, and translated roughly to: the jacket is satin and it is comfortable and I would like to continue wearing it.

✦✦✦

Bellatrix stood at the fence watching Onyx, arms crossed, chin elevated.

The triangle formation again.

The Dragon King was on the field. Tiberon was beside him.

"Oh, hello, dear," she said as they passed. "You look tired. Are you eating? Your color is off."

The First Dragon King, a ten-thousand-year-old sovereign, received his first maternal wellness check. His gold eyes, burning at a frequency that made every dragon on the field vibrate, blinked once.

"I am... adequate."

Tiberon’s face offered nothing.

The Dragon King turned back to the field. Onyx was running the triangle formation, his small body weaving between two larger juveniles.

"The black dragon should not be in the triangle formation," the Dragon King said. "He has surpassed it."

"Finally," Bellatrix said. "I have been saying this for days. Thank you for listening, dear."

Both men turned to Bellatrix.

She was still watching Onyx, arms crossed, head tilted at the exact angle Serena tilted hers when she was analyzing something. The similarity was coincidental and would have horrified both women.

"He outgrew the triangle weeks ago. Caelum keeps him in it because the formation needs a third body and Onyx is reliable." She uncrossed her arms. "He is a gifted dragon and being held back. Where he is struggling is flight."

The Dragon King’s eyebrows rose by a fraction. Tiberon stared at his soon-to-be ex wife for a second longer than usual. Then returned his gaze back to the field.

"And for the love of the Goddess," Bellatrix continued. "Please do not put him on those same flight drills. His wingspan is slightly asymmetric. My tailor caught it during his measurement. He compensates by over-correcting on ascent, which is why he wobbles above two hundred meters. Put him on the higher platform with the longer foam pit. He should be gliding over the whole thing, stretching both wings fully."

Silence.

The Dragon King stared at Bellatrix.

Tiberon was back to staring at Bellatrix.

Bellatrix was looking at Onyx still.

The Dragon King turned to Caelum. "She is correct. Move him out of that formation immediately. Level three gliding drills. Higher platform. Full-length pit."

"Yes, Your Highness."