CAI squired his dragonmate, Ember Niamh-Wyvern, through the crowd that once again filled the Dragon Palace. He led her, trailing him, through the crowded hallways to the throne room where the ceremony would again take place.
Dragons, drooling dragonfire at the presence of so many other reptiles packed tightly into the palace, stood with their mates, who were generally witches or mages, other shifter varieties, natural humans, or the occasional glamorous fae.
All wore formal attire for the event that occurred once a generation, if that. The men wore tuxedo-tailed morning suits in sherbet and dark colors or suits for the more casual gentlemen. Considering that Cai organized everything from rock concerts to orchestral classical music performances, he had a large and varied closet. He could attend anything from a grunge festival to his own coronation with what he owned, and that latter possibility was exactly what he was banking on. Cai had chosen a medium blue morning coat and trousers with a peach vest and cravat to wear as he tried to win the Dragon throne that afternoon.
The women crowding the hallway as they made their way into the palace wore black or navy formal gowns. Some of the younger women wore jewel-toned dresses. Ember was wearing a wonderful dark blue gown that skimmed her curves and made Cai want to find a secluded niche somewhere in this house. As the Dragon Palace was constantly full of randy dragons and their mates, he doubted that such niches existed. Word would have gotten out.
“This is nice,” Ember said to him, speaking loudly near his shoulder as he shoved through the crowd. She looked up at him with eyes filled with black fire and stars. “I thought it would be more like a castle, but I love Spanish Revival. When was this built?”
“The 1920s. Some movie director owned it first, but we bought it when we formally moved the clan to California.”
“The exposed beams are amazing.”
Cai glanced at the dark wood beams holding up the white plaster ceiling. “Sure.”
Ember said, “And your house is so beautiful.”
“Our house,” he said absently as he dodged around a couple and made sure not to walk between a dragon-mated pair. No use having a dragonfight before the scepter ceremony. There was always a chance for one afterward.
Still holding Ember close to him, Cai passed into the main throne room, which doubled as a reception hall and ballroom. The throne dais was still set up on the far end, and so he started pushing through the crowd to get close to that, too.
In his other hand, his phone vibrated.
Arawn had texted, Are you here yet? It was supposed to start ten minutes ago. I can’t believe you’re late for my coronation.
Jackass. Cai would show him. He thumbed his phone, texting, We’re here. In the back. Did they start serving booze yet? I don’t see any.
Math’s contact texted into their group chat, No booze yet. Either they’re saving the champagne to celebrate my crowning or they’re worried about starting a drunken, hundred-way dragonfight that will burn down the palace.
Cai swiped on his phone. It’s okay if I’m late. The ceremony won’t be over until I’m wearing the crown. If I were late, it would just give more of you the chance to try and fail.
Behind him, Ember laughed as they made their way through, “Excuse us. Excuse us! Thank you!”
Cai was halfway through the crowd, near the middle of the ballroom and underneath the largest of the extravagant chandeliers, when his arm was grabbed by Lord Dyl, the Earl of Ladon. Dyl Ladon shouted into Cai’s ear above the din of the crowd, “Please, my lord Cai, allow me to introduce my brilliant and beautiful daughter Nerys—” Lord Dyl caught a glimpse of Cai’s eyes. “Oh, nevermind.”
Cai whirled Ember, who was still giggling, up beside him. “Lord Dyl, may I introduce my lovely dragonmate and duchess, Ember Niamh-Wyvern.”
Ember grinned and stuck out of her delicate, little arm in a graceful way that made Cai want to chew on it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Charmed,” Lord Dyl sighed and looked behind them into the crowd. “Oh, my Lord Tagnik’zur! May I introduce you to—”
Nerys winked at Cai as her father dragged her off to be introduced to Lord Tagnik’zur. A few sparks, the earliest sign of mating fever, sparkled around the edges of her eyes.
Well, no matter her father’s efforts, it looked like Nerys had already met someone, probably someone eminently unsuitable if her father was still playing his game. Cai grinned back at Nerys and saluted with two fingers.
With a few more minutes of determined work, Cai and Ember reached the people standing by the throne dais. Math, Arawn, and their wives were already there, of course. They believed that clock-punctuality was a cardinal virtue, though Cai suspected that he packed more into his hectic schedule than they did.
Trumpets blew a fanfare.
Beside him, Ember winced at the noise, and Cai felt her unease more through their bond than merely her flinch against his side. He covered one of her ears with his hand and pressed the other side of her head against his chest to protect her because Cai needed to protect her from everything, whether it was danger or mere noise.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed.
The Dragon King and Dragon Queen ascended the dais and sat in the thrones. They were in the late-middle-age of the primes of the lives, white-haired but still strong and vibrant. The king rose and began speaking about the history and grandeur of the New Wales Dragon Clan while two pages carried the Dragon Scepter out between them like a heavy barbell.
Cai whispered to Ember, “If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
“It’s just really sudden,” she said, “but if you want to be the Dragon King, I understand it.”
“It would be a lot of sitting around at events and coordinating committees.”
“I get it. I assume there’ll be some on-the-job training.”
“Bronwyn and Llywelyn are great. They helped me a lot when my dad died. I was technically underage and shouldn’t have been able to inherit the dukedom. I’m sure they’ll help whomever the scepter chooses.”
She smiled up at him. “Then, do it.”
He rubbed her shoulder, “At your command, my queen.”
In his strong, deep voice, the king announced, “The nobility will approach the scepter first, and then anyone may try their hand. My lords?”
Cai took Ember’s hand and walked toward the steps.
She asked, her voice a little frantic, “Shouldn’t you do this alone?”
He glanced over the throng of dragons and other carnivorous beasts packed into the ballroom. “Come on up on the dais with me.”
Ember held her skirt up and climbed the stairs to the platform as Cai approached the magical scepter.
With Ember’s witchcraft magic augmenting his dragon senses, the Dragon Scepter was already emitting sparks as Cai approached. He didn’t want to let go of Ember’s hand, so he didn’t. He just reached out with his other hand, grasped the glowing scepter in the center of the staff, and lifted it out of the pages’ hands.
Magical fire fountained out of both ends.
The crowd gasped and pulled back.
Power flowed through Cai and the mating bond with Ember, and her hand tightened on his.
The magic swirled, imploring.
He felt Ember’s reluctance through the bond and her fear.
His life was wonderful. Running the Wyvern ducal estate and his promotions business was rewarding as hell, and what does a dragon who sheds diamonds need of a royal treasury?
Cai pushed back on the magic. No. I don’t want it.
The magic twisted in on itself and returned to the Dragon Scepter, which extinguished the flames.
The crowd gasped.
King Llywelyn pronounced, “The Dragon Scepter has not selected a new monarch. Next nobledragon, please!”