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“It was worse than being mean to her. A rival female dragon, one who was pledged to marry Radomis before he fell in love with Morga, despised her so much that she plotted to poison the queen.”
He opened his mouth on a gasp but said not a word.
“However,” I continued, “Queen Morga was a smart woman. She knew envious eyes watched her all the time. There was a gathering of dragon royalty from every realm, dressed in full regalia in their human forms. When her rival, Balsheba of the Bloodback clan, toasted in her honor at a gathering of the courtiers, she suspected something at once. Balsheba raised a goblet in front of the whole assembly, saying, ‘I drink to our new queen’s health and long life, honoring her with this blood-ruby, my family heirloom.’ After sipping the wine, she dropped the scarlet ruby into the chalice, passing the drink to her queen. Now, it was a longtime custom of the dragons that when a toast is made in honor of another, the receiver must accept by drinking of the same glass. Queen Morga had already realized the ruby was laced with poison. If she drank from the poisoned cup, she would die. If she did not, she would stir Balsheba’s entire clan against her husband’s house. Morga had no fears that her love, Radomis, would fight to the death for her. But she didn’t want to be the one to divide the kingdoms, to be the cause of so much violence.”
“What did she do?” murmured Julian before opening his mouth in a wide yawn.
“Well, it just so happened that King Radomis had been detained from Balsheba’s toast by one of her minions. He walked into the throng the moment the queen took the chalice from Balsheba’s hands, unaware of what had transpired. Morga turned to Radomis, raised the chalice and smiled at the assembly, saying ‘Balsheba does me a great honor, and I accept her gift on behalf of my loving husband, Radomis. But it is a human custom that the king always drinks before his queen. My love, would you do the honors first?’ Now Morga would never have let a single drop touch his precious lips, so she stood close by his side lest her plan not work. Balsheba’s face blanched white, realizing that her deception would now kill the object of her desires. King Radomis took the goblet and tilted it in the air. ‘To my queen.’ And just as he lifted the drink to his lips, Balsheba’s father leaped from the crowd and knocked the cup from the king’s hands, sending it clanging across the stone floor. The blood-ruby bounced and rolled to Balsheba’s feet, leaving a trail of poisoned red wine in its wake. ‘What is this?’ asked the king, his eyes blazing, realizing at once there had been some malevolent intent toward his queen. ‘The drink was poisoned, my lord.’ Balsheba’s father knelt before the king. ‘It was not intended for you. Forgive me. Forgive us.’”
Julian’s droopy eyes slid closed. I waited for them to reopen to tell the rest of the tale. How Balsheba’s father and three of her brothers were beheaded for the crime of treason, how Balsheba was exiled into the wastelands of the north and was never heard from again. But Julian slept sound. I tucked the covers close around his chin.
Jessen leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, a small smile creasing her lips. “Not your typical bedtime story,” she whispered.
“Not your typical child.”
“That’s for sure.”
We walked down the hall toward the dining room, arms linked.
“He loves you so, Moira.”
“As I love him.” I smiled to myself, catching my sister’s watchful gaze.
“Haven’t you thought of a family of your own yet?”
“Oh, come on, Jess. I’m twenty years old. I don’t think my ovaries have shriveled up just yet.”
“I know, I know. It’s just that ever since Mikal, you’ve not once dated another guy. Are you still heartbroken over him? Or what?”
I let out a heavy puff of air. “I was the one who did the heartbreaking with Mikal, remember? He was a great guy. Seriously. He just wasn’t…enough. I don’t know how to say it. And I’m more interested in my career than I am in being a baby-making factory.” I glanced down at the small swelling just starting to show. “No offense.”
“None taken. I like being Lucius’s baby-making factory.” A naughty look.
“Gross. Too much information, thank you.” Voices from the dining area drifted into the hallway. “So go ahead and tell me who you’re setting me up with tonight.”
Her cheeks flamed pink as she spit out a quick, albeit brief, description. “His name is Kraven Silverback. He works with Nightwing Security and is a friend of Lucius and Lorian’s. He’s a really good guy. He’s intelligent and easy on the eyes. Just give him a shot. I know you’ll like him.”
I rolled my eyes. Jess didn’t get it. Guys complicated my life, steering me farther off-course from my goal of becoming a serious journalist. They always wanted to put me in a corner where they could take care of me and keep me safe. Investigative journalists didn’t sit in corners. They got in the muck of it right along with detectives sometimes, seeking the truth, no matter the cost. And now, she was setting me up with some overprotective Morgon who works for Nightwing Security. Not what I needed.
Hmm. Wait. Nightwing Security. Maybe this could be to my advantage. They supplied security for the Vaengar Games. And I needed to get into the games and mix with the Morgon crowd in order to find the man Cremwell described to me in our interview—the black-haired, black-eyed guy with a facial tic—who kept buying them drinks at an after-party in the basement of the Stadium.
“Just be nice, Moira. Please.”
“I’m always nice.”
She arched a brow at me, making a face I often made myself, meaning I don’t believe you. “What are you plotting? I know that look in your eye.”
I scoffed. “I do not plot. I plan.”
“Hmph. Like when you planned your sixteenth birthday by sneaking out with Kris and going to a Morgon bonfire, getting grounded for six months.”
My best friend, Krissa, who preferred Kris, and I had gotten into some trouble a time or two in our teen years. “Grounded? It was more like house-arrest. You’re one to talk. I do believe you were the one sneaking out of your college dorm which landed you in a particular nightclub on the Morgon side of town. The night which got you all this.” I gestured around us to the sprawling home.
Jessen heaved a sigh, one hand rounding her belly. “Do you always have to be so verbal when you’re annoyingly right? You know, subtlety might do you some good.”
“Not in my nature, Jess, and you know it.”
“What happened to that little, wide-eyed girl I used to take to the park and buy ice cream for?”
