Zilra led us through even more winding corridors and lavish hallways, each more fancy than the last. The grandeur of the palace was... overwhelming. The walls were adorned with scales of shimmering gold and silver, each one catching the dim light and casting a warm, familiar glow. It was hard to believe this was all one palace - everything seemed so... grand and impractical, yet strangely fascinating. Everything you could look at was... somehow dragon-themed. As if we were in the midst of the most die-hard dragon fan's basement. A rather huge basement.

Even the floors were covered in intricate mosaics depicting dragons in flight. Their twisting forms creating an ever-moving pattern beneath our feet. Some of the depictions on the floor and the tapestries around us I'd seen before. But where? Some book maybe? I couldn't quite recall, but they definitely seemed familiar.

We finally arrived at a set of enormous doors, their surfaces carved to resemble dragon wings stretching out. Zilra pushed them open, revealing a room that took what I was talking about earlier to a whole new level. It was decorated with rich, silvers and golds - like everything, really. White, silver, yellow and gold were the only colours you could find in here. Somehow I hadn't become bored of them yet.

The room itself was circular, with a high, vaulted ceiling resembling the interior of a dragon’s lair. Probably. Not like I'd ever been to one. The walls were lined with large, glowing gemstones embedded in the stone, casting a soft, eerie light that flickered like the color spectrum of a flame. At the center of the room, large, plush beds were draped in luxurious fabrics that mimicked dragon hides, giving them an almost eerie appearance. I hope those aren't real.

“This will be your quarters for the time being,” Zilra announced, her tone slightly detached. “I hope it meets your standards.”

Our standards? I had to pause for a minute to just take in the room, my gaze lingering on the more than overly extravagant decor. The space was impressive, but the sheer scale of it was almost too overwhelming. Rheka and Tavrin looked as awestruck as I did, their eyes wide as they took in the plush surroundings. Man. This is quite the... upgrade. I wouldn't say I didn't miss our old cottage and my sleeping place on the floor but this was... wow. For a dragon like me, the splendor was a bit... much. I was simply used to more modest accommodations, though the palace was definitely a sight to behold.

“Mine's nearby if you need anything,” Zilra added, her voice softening a little. “But before I leave you to settle in... There’s something I want to show you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Zilra gave us a devious smile. “A little trick I’ve picked up." She shrugged. "Follow me.”

Zilra led us down a series of increasingly narrow corridors, their walls still decorated with dragon-themed tapestries and ornate sconces shaped like dragon heads. Finally, she stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary door, its surface engraved with a pattern of intertwined dragon tails. With a glance over her shoulder to ensure we weren’t being watched, she opened the door.

Inside was a modest, unassuming room, but it led to a hidden balcony that overlooked a grand conference chamber. The balcony was set up for discreet observation, as I would call it. With thick curtains partially drawn to shield us from anyones view. From here, we had a perfect vantage point into the opulent meeting room below. There were multiple more balconies around so I assumed this wasn't an all too sucpicious location. The room we were in was obviously not meant for guests, but the brat seemed quite at home in it.

“This is one of the palace’s secret playrooms, as I call them.” Zilra explained. “It allows me to listen in on meetings and conversations without anyone seeing me.”

“What for?” I asked. Obviously I knew why. But I wanted to hear it from her mouth.

Zilra shrugged, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Sometimes it’s useful to know what’s happening behind closed doors. Especially in this place.”

Spot on. Honestly, I couldn’t argue with that logic. It seemed like a practical skill for anyone navigating the complexities of court politics. I glanced at Rheka and Tavrin, who were completely on board with the idea. Of course. Wherever mischief went, these brats would simply follow.

“So, what’s the plan?” Rhea asked.

“We’re going to eavesdrop on what our parents are talking about.” Zilra said with a grin. “I’m sure they’re discussing important matters, and I want to know which.”

We followed Zilra through the passage and emerged on the balcony. From here, we had a clear view into the grand conference room, where the others were likely deep in discussion. Zilra gestured for us to stay quiet and crouched down near the edge of the balcony. I felt my height allergy creep in on me. Though only slightly. You could say I'd gone through some exposure therapy on this day.

As we settled into our hiding spot, I couldn’t help but reflect on our situation.

Being in the midst of such grandeur feels more than surreal. I never imagined I’d find myself in a place like this, let alone with such a privileged role in it. Does this mean I've finally made it? Well, I suppose we were still guests, yet I already felt like your average Mr. Moneybags. When was the lost time I eavesdropped in on someone like this? It all seems so long ago. Though I missed it. That kick. This was most definitely a place we weren't supposed to be in. I wonder. When would be the next time I could again be someone I wasn't?

Below us, the grand conference room was lit by a large, ornate chandelier that resembled a dragon’s open maw, its “teeth” holding glowing orbs of light. Similiar to those the old man had in his basement. A slight feeling of nostalgia overcame me while I continued to watch. Several people were gathered around a large carved table. It was a room buzzing with low murmurs. The King was speaking, his voice barely audible over the hum of conversation. From what I could catch, he was discussing matters of state, though the specifics were obviously lost in the distance. Not like that mattered. His demeanor seemed even more weary up close; he rubbed his temples frequently, a clear sign of stress. I was somewhat of an expert on the subject.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I didn't know why, but I felt for the man. He was a stranger, yet he had something that felt so... familiar about him.

Urs, ever the speechmaster was arguing passionately about something. His gestures were as grand as always, and his tone was heated. The King listened in silence, his expression inscrutable. Zilra glanced at us with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Then Vrintas stepped into sight.

This is it. I thought. Now we're getting to the critical stuff.

I focused on the snippets of conversation I could hear. The old man unfortunately didn't speak as loudly as his son. The mention of threats from a neighboring realm and some internal strife within the kingdom caught my attention. Something about those Rathan folk. There were quite a few people in the room I didn't recognize. I assumed them to be the King's advisors or something. Definitely people that mattered though. They seemed deeply concerned about a potential rebellion brewing among the lower classes and the increasing power of certain seperatist movements within the realm.

It was a lot to process, and I could tell from the looks on everyone’s faces that they were equally engrossed. Though, I wasn't sure of the brats even understood what was being talked about. Even then, Rheka was practically vibrating with excitement, while Tavrin’s face was set in a serious expression.

So, the entire kingdom is rife with political tension and uncertainty. This is more than just a grand tour. There’s real danger here, and we’re right in the middle of it. There's chaos. And maybe even opportunity.

I was thrown out of my thoughts as someone threw a glance to our balcony. We'd almost been caught.

"We must crush them! This cannot go unpunished!" A voice unknown to me said. It was probably one of the King's advisors. He didn't sound all too happy.

"And that worked just splendidly last time. With such effectiveness too." That voice I did recognize. I hadn't heard it in a while, but it was without a doubt in my mind Hern's. Lanky bastard.

"Mylord you cannot seriously consider... negotiations with these vermin." The advisor replied.

"Oh no. This will be no mere negotiation. The Rathan have always been a... delicate subject. So I would say they require a more delicate solution, don't you think?" Hern asked into the whole room, stretching his arms out wide. At that point I was straight up spectating the whole scene. Not paying any attention to if I'd be discovered or not.

"And which one would that be, Hern?" The King asked. A slight annoyance in his tone. His gaze oozing fatigue, shot occasional glances at Hern.

"I'm still making my arrangements, but your higness will be informed right away when they conclude." Hern took a slight bow after he finished speaking.

"Hopefully that will be before the Xeshmunites kick in our gates, not after." Urs said.

"Naturally." Hern replied. His voice pitched slightly higher than usually.

The King just rubbed his temples. He'd been doing that a whole lot.

Then Vrintas stepped towards the table again. "War aside. What are we to do about the outbreak?" He spoke with urgency.

"What are we to do?" Hern asked, his arms crossed.

"We lock the place up. And then we burn it all to the ground." The man speaking was new to the conversation. And he stood out from the other advisors as well. Across his face he wore a large, gaping scar, splitting his nose clean in two. Both of his ears were black, like charcoal. Or Nightnail, if we're already on the subject. As if that rot had spread all over them. I couldn't quite make out his build, but something about that golden robe he was wearing seemed familiar too. Right. It was the guy who'd whispered directly into the King's ears before he'd received us. Back then I didn't see his face, because trust me - those ears I wouldn't have forgotten about. "Less mouths to feed, less words to travel." he continued.

Hmm. Would that really stop a disease from spreading? I didn't know how either Nightnail or Sandskin worked, there were certainly no similar diseased I'd ever heard about in my world. Well. Except for the black plague, maybe. But that... Let's not hang our coat up yet, alright? Eradicating all of Rhodentum, if that was what was being discussed there, seemed a tad too drastic. Especially considering the fact that some infected could have long taken the disease elsewhere. Despite that, some of the folks down there seemed to be all for it. Nodding heads and raising their hands as if to vote already.

"We won't sacrifice a whole town like this." The King said. I could tell the lad was barely holding it together. His eyes were sunken, his face haggard, and each word seemed to sap the very last of his energy. He spoke with the weary resignation of a man who had long since given up hope of finding a solution to his endless troubles. “I am so tired of these endless debates. If we go through with this, we’ll share fates with the likes of Solisthar - reduced to nothing but ashes and regret. I won't play my part in that."

"Your Majesty... it was us who created that fate." The advisors blackened ears added a somewhat ominous aura whenever he spoke.

The King closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to escape the weight of the conversation down upon him. “Yes, and it’s a legacy I had hoped we could overcome, not repeat.”

After those words the argument below slowly descended into utter chaos. Advisors began shouting over one another, their voices merging into a mix of accusations and counterarguments. Some raised their hands in frustration, others pounded the table with their fists. The once somewhat orderly discourse fractured into a series of heated exchanges, each faction defending their stance with increasing fervor. The King’s tired eyes just darted around, helplessly witnessing the breakdown of any semblance of organized debate. It was as if the room itself had become a battleground of clashing wills and unrestrained tempers, the importance of the earlier discussion now lost in the uproar. And the King just went with it. He had given up. On the whole affair. He would just let his lessers walk all over him, doing whatever they pleased. Our folks seemed as confused as I was, leaning against the wall somewhere in the back. Even Vrintas, who'd started this whole mess, was no longer part of it. What are you doing man? You'll let these idiots do whatever-the-hell they pleased? You're THE king, no? Just...

"Just say no, damnit!" I thought. Out loud. As loud as I could. Crap.

Too my luck, not everyone had heard that. Phew Rheka, trying to contain my outburst, flailed her hands all over my face. A panicked attempt to cover me. Too bad her elbow accidentally nudged against an ornate, also dragon-shaped crystal lamp hanging just a little too close to the edge of the balcony. The lamp swayed a bit before tipping over with a clatter, sending the flickering light spiraling downward.

Of course, everyone heard that.