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Francis snored loudly from his armchair as if to agree.
“I know,” Hugh admitted in a sad, small voice. He dabbed his eye with the back of his wrist. “I
don’t mean to be selfish. I am happy for Father. Truly, I am. I just… I’ve wanted this for so
long.”
“And if you stay positive, your wish will come true.”
Hugh smiled, but his lips wobbled. “What a lovely fairy tale. Pray tell, where did you hear it? I
read half the story, but misplaced the book somewhere along the way and never learned how
it ends.”
“Then I suppose it’s—once again—up to me to save the day.” While Hugh didn’t see it, he
imagined his brother proudly lifting his chin. “You’ll find your mate, brother. You’ll have your
clutch. The conception of our new sibling cinches with near certainty what my little broccoli
floret thought to be true—not only are Disgraces dragonets, but the color theory is accurate. If
you mate with a complementary Disgrace, you’ll have your clutch eventually. There’s hope for
you yet.”
On a surface level, Hugh acknowledged that what Everard was saying was correct. That
shallow understanding, however, didn’t quell the torrential currents of hurt and confusion
whipping his soul into a frenzy. After four unsuccessful attempts at fathering a clutch and the
disaster that’d been his trip to Frisia, Hugh was still childless, and no one seemed to care. It’d
stung when his father had chosen Reynard for the experiment over him, and it stung again
now knowing his father had found his forever love.
“Now, will you promise to go visit Father and his new mate?” asked Everard. “You really should.
Wally is a timid but sweet boy, and as he continues to warm to life as an Amethyst, I’m sure
he’ll come around. And even if you want nothing to do with him, there’s no getting around the
fact that he’ll be giving birth to our future sibling.”
Hugh took a deep, stabilizing breath and forced the muscles in his back and shoulders to relax.
Yes, the news was distressing, but one day soon it would be his turn to find love and start a
family. What was a few more months in the grand scheme of things when he’d already been
waiting for centuries? All would be well.
Francis let loose with a rattling snore that ended in a wet snort.
“I’ll go visit Father and his mate soon,” Hugh said in the silence that followed. “You have my
