Page 74 of Dragon King’s Duty Bride

“Then prove it,” Voilear challenged. “And soon, or I will gather the support of those who value strength over sentiment.”

The threat hung heavy and undeniable. Lucas stepped forward until they were nearly chest to chest.

“You will gather nothing,” he said quietly. “You will return to whatever barn you crawled out of. You will reconsider your arrogance and if you so much as whisper treason beyond these walls, I will consider it an act of war.”

Voilear held his gaze and for a long moment, neither man moved. Then Voilear inclined his head and made a mock bow.

“As you wish… for now.”

He turned and strode from the chamber without permission. The doors slammed shut behind him. Lucas turned to face the council fully.

“Is this how you honor your king?” he demanded. “By entertaining foreign imposters, who would steal your crown?”

The eldest councilor stood. His hands trembled. “We honor the kingdom. But the kingdom needs certainty. We tried to warn you.”

“And now you decide that betraying me is a better option,” Lucas snapped.

“I’ve told you, Lucas. Your daughters are wonderful, but they are not successors.”

“Because you say they’re not. Not because I agree. You wanted me to marry, I did. You even selected my bride for me. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.”

“You have a beautiful family,” Aldrek corrected gently. “But with a queen who has yet to produce a son.”

The words struck harder than Voilear’s threat. Lucas forced his breathing to steady. The blame always drifted, inevitably, toward Sia, never toward him. He had finally made love to her, and things had just snowballed out of control ever since. The goat. The storm. Now this.

Lucas closed his eyes briefly. He would not let them turn her into a political pawn.

“I will not repudiate my queen,” he said, each word carved from stone. “I will not cast aside my daughters. And I will not yield my throne to a foreign opportunist.”

“Then what will you do?” Aldrek asked quietly.

Lucas opened his eyes. “I will remind the realm that Crystafalls does not stand alone.”

The council shifted. “I will call a convocation of kings,” Lucas continued. “Stagholt. Onyxheim. Just to name two. We will renew our alliances publicly and formally.”

“That will be seen as escalation,” one councilor warned.

“It is a defense,” Lucas replied. “If Voilear seeks to test our borders, he will find them guarded.”

“And the matter of an heir?” Aldrek pressed.

Lucas held the elder’s gaze. “That,” he said evenly, “is between me and my queen.” He pointed at each elder. “And let me remind you of something. I am king, by birthright, not chosen. Me. Not you. You are advisors by choice, my family’s choice for generations, and it is within my power to abolish the entire council. If you ever bring another intruder into my chambers, that’s exactly what will happen.”

“You have no right,” rang out.

“Do not tell me what my rights are,” Lucas roared. “And like I just said, I’m not alone in this. I’m sure there are others who have had enough of your crap too.”

The meeting dissolved shortly after, the council dispersing in uneasy clusters.

Lucas remained alone in the chamber. War.

The word coiled in his mind.

If Voilear truly intended to move against them, he would not do so openly. He would seek allies. He would whisper in ears already predisposed to doubt. He would promise strength and sons and dragon fire reborn.

Lucas walked to the window that overlooked the city. Crystafalls shimmered below. His people. His home. He had inherited this kingdom at nineteen. Fought to keep it at twenty-one. He would never give it up willingly.

A knock sounded behind him. He didn’t turn. “Enter.”