From Riley’s very unfortunate position, he could see it.
The animosity.
The contempt.
And most of all, the disbelief.
Which, to be fair, he understood. Because he also felt all three right now toward the very same Dragon Lord who looked just about ready to haul him around like a sack of potatoes.
However, Riley, the glorified sack, together with the shiny, supremely annoyed lizard, didn’t get very far. They did not, tragically, fly off to safety. Instead, they were dumped unceremoniously into that massive throne-like chair apparently reserved for the Dragon Lord when he actually bothered to use it.
The entire hall went quiet.
Because, of course, silence had to descend at the exact moment Riley ended up once again planted in Kael’s lap like an unwilling accessory.
The enchanted thrones of Lord Karion and Lady Cirila slid majestically into place on either side of the grander central seat. Riley’s brain, instead of panicking, betrayed him with a random thought about pulleys and stage systems like the kind used in concerts. They would have needed something like that if magic hadn’t been present.
Mesmerizing, yes. Useful? No. He should not have been thinking about concert rigging while being treated like royal furniture.
He probably should have fought harder. He probably should have elbowed his way free. Instead, here he was. Once again. In Kael’s overhyped lap.
"!!!"
The collective gasps that rippled through the hall nearly deafened him. He might have been one of them. His eyes darted wildly from corner to corner, scanning for an exit door that absolutely did not exist.
He looked up at Kael with a smile that was polite enough for the crowd but sharp enough to kill. Not that it would work, but it was the principle that mattered.
Ever since that day he learned the truth about their predicament, something between them had shifted. Only slightly, but enough that Riley felt it every time Kael glanced at him. It was a strange balance: Kael’s power pressed on one side, his rare flashes of vulnerability pressing on the other. Riley could now meet his face directly, searching for answers where none were given.
They had actually agreed on signals. A single tap with one finger meant stop. A double-tap meant watch out. As for a signal to proceed, they didn’t have one. Kael had smugly declared that he could always proceed until told otherwise.
What an ass, right?
Still, he’d honored it so far. Kael hadn’t really stopped him from doing anything. So when Riley felt the faint double-tap signal now, he froze. What exactly was he supposed to watch out for? And how could he tell when Kael’s famed dragon brows weren’t even twitching?
So Riley decided to keep still, which was not exactly possible when he was sitting there, dumbfounding an entire hall of dragons who called themselves gods.
Life achievement unlocked.
Although this was something he would never be able to tell his hypothetical grandkids about. But he might as well memorize every horrified face staring at him for when life inevitably hit hard. Which might be in the next few seconds.
"Anyone care to explain all this?" Kael finally spoke, his voice carrying across the hall like rolling thunder.
The dragonlings, gods help them, actually tried to answer. They opened their mouths, whining protests tumbling out. Riley could only gape. Clearly, they hadn’t encountered Kael much. Otherwise, they would have known better than to mistake this question for an invitation.
Before anyone could get a proper complaint out, a voice boomed over them.
"Silence!"
Chancellor Malrik’s face, once composed and honey-smooth, cracked. For a split second, he looked murderous. Then, with visible effort, he smoothed it back into something resembling his earlier mask.
The dragonlings flinched. Some even stumbled backward, the realization finally dawning that they had crossed a line they should never have touched.
But that didn’t really mean the dragonlings would stop. Especially not when they caught sight of Seris’ face twisting into something smug and proud, like she’d just been handed the crown itself.
Wow. Even Riley perked up at that. From his literal VIP seat in Kael’s lap, he was suddenly very invested in whatever drama was about to unfold.
"My Lord," the Chancellor finally spoke, his tone dripping with gravity. "I’d like to apologize for this, but I believe I must prioritize more pertinent news."
Kael didn’t bother answering. He merely flicked a single clawed finger. Permission granted. Continue, old man.
"It’s about Orien Vathros."
There! Riley nearly screamed inside his head. Finally! Someone actually said the name! He almost clapped just for that. Instead, he busied himself scanning the room. He looked for anything suspicious: dragons who didn’t care enough, dragons who cared too much, or dragons who looked smug like they’d known this bombshell was coming.
Nothing.
Surprisingly, no one looked particularly out of place. Everyone seemed confused, except of course the gaggle of dragonlings still shining with misplaced hope.
Weirdly enough, it was as though the Chancellor wanted them all to react. He even gave them time, standing there with a wistful expression like this was a poetry recital instead of missing-dragon news.
And maybe Kael thought the same as him, because one of his famed dragon brows finally lifted. That single movement was enough to make the Chancellor hurry and continue.
"My Lord, it seems that Orien, your nephew, has escaped the nest on his own accord."
"!!!"
The silence cracked into murmurs. Shocked whispers rippled through the crowd like sparks through dry leaves. Then Kael tapped a single clawed finger on the throne.
The noise vanished.
"Explain yourself, Chancellor Malrik." Kael’s voice carried, heavy and sharp, his gaze fixed on the elder.
"A few days ago, we noticed his disappearance," Malrik said, his tone sorrowful, as though each word weighed a hundred pounds. "As customary, we at the nest usually wait a prescribed period before announcing such disappearances. You understand how... controversial it would be."
He sighed deeply, as if this pain were his own. "And with his day approaching, we thought it must have been a misunderstanding. Yet here we are, and still nothing. Therefore, I am bound to inform you of the dragonling’s disappearance."
His voice had grown so heavy with grief Riley nearly rolled his eyes. If Riley didn’t know better, he’d think Malrik was Orien’s father instead of just the guy with the over-oiled smile.
Still, the announcement landed hard.
That female dragonling practically vibrated out of her seat. She stood on tiptoes, as if her heels weren’t high enough to carry the weight of her desperation. Hope shone in her face like a flare.
But it cracked into pieces when Kael asked, "Is that all?" and the elder acquiesced.
"..."
The Chancellor hesitated earlier. Clearly, something else was being swallowed down. He didn’t say it. He didn’t dare.
So Riley watched as the dragonling did it herself.
"Dragon Lord! It’s—"
Unfortunately, she didn’t get any further. Malrik practically yanked her behind him like a curtain being drawn. "Apologies, My Lord. The youngsters seem heavily affected by Orien’s disappearance. Forgive them."
Riley’s eyes narrowed.
He really wanted to hear the rest. In fact, he really wanted to shout, "Let her finish." But he wasn’t that insane yet, so he went for subtlety.
A discreet double tap against Kael’s leg. As quietly as possible. Hopefully unnoticed.
But apparently, that tiny signal was enough to trigger chaos.
Because Seris exploded, as if that tiny signal had been an alarm for the dragon-kind.
"My Lord! How could you let such disgrace to your name and reputation stand? First Orien, and now this—a human?!"
Her anguished scream shook the hall. A goblet toppled and clattered to the marble floor, wine spilling like blood.
The echo rang. Dragons stiffened.
And Riley?
Riley just sat there, blinking, calmly wondering what a dead dragon looked like. Because unless Seris suddenly sprouted a miracle, he was fairly certain he was about to find out.