A chorus of whispers hummed among the gathered lords and ladies beyond the open doors of the tall entryway. Anticipation gripped the air so hard she could taste it in the back of her throat.

    She smoothed her hands over the sides of her dress, hiding them beneath the folds of her fur lined white cloak. The time had finally come.

    Galoria laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow. She shook her head and waved off the little woman. It was nothing. She just needed a moment to compose herself.

    Today was an important day for the people of Lucidia. She needed to show the nobles her confidence. The last thing she wanted was for them to see a hint of weakness.

    The crowd hushed as she swept into the large open chamber. Columns chiseled into the likeness of Dragon form warriors holding aloft great swords rose from the marble floors on either side of the wide room and disappeared into the dimness of the high ceiling that loomed far above the crowd.

    Arching stained glass windows lined the walls beyond the columns. Sunlight spilled through the rose colored glass along one side of the hall as the sun began its slow ascent.

    She strode down the center of the room, through the walkway that divided the crowd, leading to the high backed throne that sat at the end of the great hall on a dais nine steps tall.

    The Sun Throne gleamed under the rising sun.

    Commoners believed it was made of solid gold. Of course, she knew better. Like many other things in the capital, it was only beautiful on the outside.

    A thin layer of gold, hammered flat and formed to fit the throne, hid the old rotting wood underneath.

    An array of rubies, black pearls, and diamonds lined the back of the chair above the head of where its occupant would sit. A Dragon head with a rising sun behind it glared at the crowd of nobles assembled below it.

    She ignored the bowing lords and ascended the nine steps to the top of the dais. An old man wearing the robes of the Vocarian temple stood beside a younger man wearing similar robes. The young man held before him a satin pillow supporting a golden crown.

    Lord Malister had been the head of the Sun Temple of Vocaria since before she was born. The old man studied her silently with gray, cloudy eyes as she carefully knelt before him.

    She had initially refused to do so, but Galoria had counseled against it. Refusing to kneel before the temple was as good as declaring oneself a heretic.

    He gave her a slight nod and turned to face the nobles gathered in the hall.

    “My lords and ladies,” he said, voice thin and raspy. “We gather here to recognize our Mother’s child, born of fire and raised among Her blessed children. We mourn the passing of our King, but we shall not falter. Our enemies failed. And they shall know the price of failure. After all, leave just one Dragon alive and the lions are never safe.”

    He lifted the crown from its pillow and held it out above the crowd. The crown was simple and elegant and as old as the kingdom itself.

    A thin band of gold supported rubies cut into points that looked like teeth. A pair of carved obsidian spear points had been secured to the golden band. They looked almost like daggers. She imagined they were meant to give the illusion of Dragon horns.

    Lord Malister held the crown above her head and spoke once more.

    “Here kneels the last of her house, but the first of her name. Humbled by the power of our Mother, Vocaria. Strengthened by it. Protected by it. May the blessing of Vocaria shield her against her foes, guide her hand in counsel, and be the light that shines in her darkest hour.”

    He placed the crown on her head. The sharp rubies pressed into her skull.

    “Rise, Eliza Zaryph. Rise, my Queen. Rise, and lead our Mother’s children. The Sun has shown us the way. Lead us there and may your reign be long and the lives of our enemies short.”

    She rose and took the hand lord Malister offered her, kissing his jeweled fingers. She hid her disgust and waited for the man to withdraw.

    He bowed and took a position beside the throne, the young man standing behind him. She looked out over the crowd.

    At the bottom of the dais, Galoria stood at the head of the gathered nobles. Her guards separated the dais from the crowd and in the empty walkway that divided the gathered lords and ladies down the center stood her father.

    Blood soaked his fine shirt from where his throat had been slashed. His body burned and the air suddenly smelled like smoke. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

    It wasn’t real, of course. His body had been returned to Vocaria on a pyre, his ashes buried in the royal crypts.

    She opened her eyes and had to stop herself from taking a step back. Her father stood over her, breathing down her neck. She clenched her jaw and held back the urge to gag against the stench of her father’s corpse.

    She refused to look at him and stared straight ahead. The hushed silence stretched until Galoria cleared her throat. She blinked.

    Her father disappeared but the blood gushing from his throat had sprayed across her white cloak and dress. She looked down at her hands at the blood dripping from her fingers, forming a pool around her feet. It slowly spilled down the steps of the dais.

    She balled her hands into fists and held them out to her sides.

    “My lords and ladies,” she said. “Not so long ago, on a cold winter night, death came for my house. And death had its way with us. But it did not succeed. I am the last of our royal blood, but I am not the last Dragon. We are all of us blessed by Vocaria. The world knows of our power and fears us, because we are all of us Dragons. We will not bend to the fears of cowards who come with knives in the dark. Dragons know no fear.”

    The nobles roared, shaking raised fists, clapping, and shouting her name. She raised a bloody hand and slowly they settled down.

    “We will not bend, but neither shall we strike with blind rage. The assassins who attacked my family are still out there. Our enemies are watching, waiting for us to make our move. And without knowing who they are, surely whatever move we make would come with grave consequences.

    “That is why my first declaration as queen is not one of war, but of patience. We will not strike at anyone until we know for certain who sent those cowards after my family.”

    That wasn’t met with any cheering, just as she’d thought. Galoria had told her that everyone assumed the Kobari sent the assassins and now the kingdom expected to go to war with their neighbor to the south.

    “Believe me my lords and ladies. I will never forget that night. It haunts me still when I close my eyes. I will not forget, and I will not forgive. Whoever is responsible will die begging for a quick and painless death.

    “But for now, I urge you to stand with me. We must remain strong and prepare ourselves for whatever may come in the future. Whatever that may be, I promise you we will be victorious. For we are the children of Vocaria. And may the Sun guide us all.”

    She allowed a few moments to pass before she descended the steps of the dais. Her guards flowed in around her, flanking both sides of the walkway. Galoria fell in beside her.

    “I believe that went well,” she said to the small woman after they’d left the great hall. The slow murmur of conversation picked up and followed them out into the hallway.

    “You almost choked, didn’t you?” Galoria said under her breath.

    “Was it that obvious?”

    “Only to those with eyes, I suppose. Who did you see this time?”

    “My father,” she said.

    “I see. Is it getting worse?”

    She glanced down at her hands, now without a speck of blood, and nodded.

    She hated to admit it. She didn’t even want to admit it to herself. Opening up to Galoria had taken a lot of effort, but once she had she realized it was better than keeping it all to herself.

    Wide open doors lined the main hallway. The palace, like much of the city had been built to scale to accommodate the size of the Dragon form. Dragons in their summoned armor strode the hallway and bowed to her as she passed.

    The Masters of Law and War had both decided it best to increase patrols of Dragon form guards in the palace and around the city to maintain security and order.

    Before Galoria could respond a tall, thin man with dark brown skin and a long black beard approached them. He wore a flowing blue robe and his head was shaved bald.

    Gamron Nutu, the ambassador of Kobar, bowed deeply as her guards moved to stand between them. Gamron smiled at the guards, paying no heed to the hands resting on pommels.

    “Your Majesty,” he said. “I wanted to congratulate you personally on your coronation. And to acknowledge the wisdom in your speech. It should go without saying that Kobar remains committed to maintaining the peace between our two great nations.”

    “I’m glad to hear it,” Galoria said.

    She couldn’t hold back her smile as Gamron glanced at the little woman.

    “Ambassador,” she said. “Thank you for the kind words. It comforts me to know how you feel about the peace. I would hate for there to be a war between us.”

    “Of course,” he said.

    “Yes, I would really prefer to avoid a war,” she said flatly. “And so I do hope that Kobar had nothing to do with my family’s murder.”

    The smile slipped from Gamron’s face.

    “Your Majesty, of course we had nothing to do with it. The Sword Lions don’t send assassins. They send armies. Enough to trample the earth flat beneath their feet.”

    “Oh, good,” she said. “I thought so. But it doesn’t hurt to be sure. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to get to.”

    She didn’t wait for a response and left the Kobari ambassador behind as she continued down the wide hallway. Her guards formed a loose perimeter around her.

    “Is it wise,” Galoria said after they’d put some distance between them and the ambassador, “to be so short with him? And so direct? He paid you his respects and you responded with a threat and a curt dismissal.”

    “You’ve known him longer than I. What do you think? Have I made a mistake already?”

    “No. He’s not a young man with a need to prove himself. But in the future it’s best to remain as courteous as possible. The only time you make a threat is when you’re already committed to it. Like you said in your speech, make no move until you know the truth. If you’re found contradicting yourself you’ll lose the confidence and trust of those around you.”

    But she was committed. The arrow was pointing nowhere currently, but the bowstring had been pulled back, waiting to release death upon those responsible.

    “I would prefer to view it as keeping them on their toes by remaining unpredictable. If they don’t know my next move then it would force them into a cautious position.”

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    “Which would make it harder to catch them in the middle of a reckless move.”

    “Well, I suppose there’s wisdom in that,” she said. “You know I’m not very well trained to deal with politics. I was never meant to inherit the throne. I’m likely to beat someone over the head if I happen to lose my temper, despite what I said back there. It’s good that no one openly opposed my coronation, but how do I get them to really support me?”

    “Like I said before, be courteous, but firm. They need to know you aren’t weak. They’ll test you. They’ll look for weakness and if you lose your patience and ‘beat one over the head’ you won’t gain their loyalty. You need allies who’ll die for you. Not servants who’ll betray you for a better deal.”

    “Galoria, won’t you reconsider my offer. I need someone with your experience to advise me.”

    “I am advising you.”

    “No,” she said. “I mean, officially. I’m going to need advisors I can trust.”

    “Unfortunately I’ll have to disappoint you. The Light Brigade needs me and I already have too many responsibilities that I can’t pass on yet. But I’ll be around. Just like I was today.”

    Galoria smiled and patted her on the shoulder. She couldn’t help but smile back. She loved Galoria. The woman had been her family’s vassal for decades. Which was odd to think about considering how the little woman looked to be in her early twenties.

    With her family gone, she had no one to talk to anymore who saw her as a woman and not just as a royal. Not even her maid Daria would act so familiar with her. Practically speaking, Galoria was the only real family she had left.

    “Now, I understand you have duties to attend to,” Galoria said. “So let me reiterate the obvious before I let you go. Don’t let anyone catch on to your visions. Most people would accept it as a normal response for what you went through but not all.

    “It only takes one to spin it against you and poison the minds of anyone who’ll listen. Stay strong, and may the Sun guide you.”

    “May the Sun guide you, as well, Galoria,” she said. She gave the small woman a warm embrace and watched her disappear down a side corridor.

    She took a breath and let it out slowly. The rubies in her crown bit into her scalp, reminding her of the weight of her new title, as if she were likely to forget.

    She led her guards down the main hallway and found a flight of stairs that took her to the top floor of the main tower.

    The Masters of her council would be making their way up shortly.

    It was customary for high born nobles in the city to attend a coronation. This one had been a small event, but she’d seen some of the Masters in the crowd so she felt assured that she wouldn’t be late.

    The stairs led her to another wide hallway. Stained glass windows decorated not just the walls at the end of the hallway, but on the ceiling as well. Light streamed through the ceiling. Heat greeted her the moment she stepped out of the stairwell.

    The doors of the council chamber stood shut.

    A pair of Dragon form guards stood at the ready as well as a pair of normal guardsmen. They bowed the moment their eyes laid on her. She walked up to the doors and examined the tall carved wood.

    Both doors had Dragons and Lycans carved into them, with a prominent Dragon on one door and a Lycan on the other.

    They held large swords in one hand as if to use them. But they each extended the other, gripping each other’s wrist. Behind them kneeling Dragons and Lycans lifted their hands toward the sky.

    One of the guards swept a hand toward the doors. “Would you like to go inside, Majesty? Several of the Masters are currently holding counsel.”

    “I believe I shall, guardsman.”

    The Dragon form guards pushed open the tall heavy doors and the guardsman who had spoken to her walked inside, announcing her arrival. Her personal guards followed her inside, taking positions inside the door and near the tall arching windows.

    She found her seat at the head of the table on the far side of the chamber. The captain of her guards followed her around, pulling out her chair and checking it for any signs of tampering.

    He nodded his approval a moment later and she took her seat with him taking a position behind her.

    The Masters of Coin and Labor sat next to each other, whispering to each other over several books laid open before them. They rose to their feet upon her arrival and bowed in unison.

    The North lords Gregor Deverre, Master of Coin, and Joryn Tillmont, Master of Labor wore fine rich clothing native to their northern climate, heavy and more suitable for taking a walk through a cold winter night.

    Lord Deverre flashed her a crooked smile.

    “Greetings, your Majesty. Please forgive us for not attending your coronation. We believed it prudent to prepare for the first council session of your reign.”

    “I take it,” she said, “that there is much to discuss about the price of fish and grain?”

    “And the price of weapons too, Majesty,” he said. “With the future so uncertain we need to prepare for whatever storm may blow our way.”

    “Indeed,” lord Tillmont said. “Who can say which of our enemies will try to capitalize on our recent loss? We need to reinforce our infrastructure, build up our crumbling defenses.”

    She wanted to tell them they were over reacting, but Galoria had reminded her not to be so direct. Instead she nodded along.

    “Yes,” she said. “Very wise words, my lords. Lucidia is fortunate to have you serving her. I imagine we’ve grown lax in the last several decades since our last war.”

    She left the fact unsaid that it was their northern houses who had started the civil war that had ripped Lucidia in half.

    The tall doors opened once more admitting in the remaining Masters. They greeted her in turn before taking their seats. The session went just about how she expected it to go. Long and dull.

    Her captain fetched her refreshments several times during the course of the session. The large stained glass ceiling rained a heavy red heat upon the chamber and she found herself wanting to remove her crown and cloak. Galoria would have advised against it.

    Several times the conversation drifted toward the recent rise in the cost of wheat. The navy’s ships were aging and needed repair.

    The North lords, as they did every year, complained about the renegade Lycans to the north raiding from beyond the Dreadnaughts. Which was, of course, ridiculous.

    No one had who had been sent from the south to document and observe these raiders had ever seen any. Everyone knew to overlook these wild claims. Some even took it as a joke.

    “Your Majesty,” said lord Larkon Ramporr. "The recent increase in patrols has had a positive impact upon the city. Crime has plummeted around the river districts. I must apologize though that we have still yet to apprehend the culprits responsible.”

    Lord Ramporr trailed off and looked down at his stack of papers. It looked as though he meant to hide the shame from his face. She knew the assassination had hit him hard. Among all the high houses, House Larkon had been her family’s oldest and most loyal vassals.

    As Master of Law it was not just his responsibility to assist the monarch in drafting into existence new laws and prosecuting those who violated them, but it was also his duty to see them enforced.

    That his city guards hadn’t been able to defend the royal family meant failing to maintain peace and order. That and the old man had been childhood friends with her father.

    “Raise your head, my lord. I feel your pain as though it were my own. If our Mother wills it, we will avenge my family. Lord Razek.”

    The Master of Intelligence looked up at her from a piece of parchment. His shrewd gray eyes held her for a moment as though her were reading her mind.

    “Yes, Majesty?” he said.

    “As Master of Intelligence, it should now be your highest priority in investigating my family’s murder. Whatever else you may be working on will have to wait, or at least delegate to someone else. I want your best working on this.”

    “Of course, Majesty. In fact, I’ve already begun. And you can be sure that I’ll be working closely with our Master of Law.”

    He gave lord Ramporr a nod and went back to reading his parchment.

    That almost irritated her, how the man could so easily go back to reading as though he were having tea with children.

    “Very good, lord Razek,” she said. “I would also like to take the opportunity to remind you all of one thing. For those of you who attended my coronation, you already heard me say this but for those of you who weren’t I will say this for you,” she said looking pointedly at lords Deverre and Tillmont.

    “Whatever rumors you may have heard, we are not declaring war on Kobar. For that matter, we are not going to war with anyone until we know for certain who attacked us. Lord Razek, I do look forward to learning the results of your investigation.”

    One of the Masters spoke out in a deep, strong voice.

    “Your Grace, you should know the Kobari have been stirring on the southern border. They claim it’s only standard military exercise but I would believe otherwise. And the Meradonians have been increasing their aggression on Lake Solaris, going so far as to seize some of our trading vessels.

    “It is wise of you not to react based upon assumptions. Such a move is what a clever opponent would want you to do. But I would strongly advise you keep in mind the very real possibility of war in our near future. I’ve begun readying the legions and with Lords Deverre and Tillmont’s assistance we’ll begin to fund the expansion of our offensive and defensive capabilities.”

    “Lord Renail,” she said “you have served as our Master of War for many years now and have earned the respect and gratitude of our kingdom. I trust your judgment. But rest assured. Do not take my hesitation as a sign of reluctance. I have seen war in my dreams every night since that night and I’d be a fool for believing we could avoid one now.”

    As she spoke her mother dragged herself toward her upon the council table, her blood soaking the books and papers spread across the dark wood. Behind the Masters, flames twisted violently and smoke curled around their heads, filling the high ceiling of the chamber.

    Her mother crawled toward the edge of the table where she sat and slumped weakly against the dark wood. A soft moan escaped her blood red lips, her blue eyes staring lifelessly at her. The light of the flames danced upon her mother’s pale cheeks.

    Despite the oppressive heat in the chamber she felt cold under the folds of her fur lined white cloak. The ruby teeth of her crown suddenly sharper.

    “Yes, my lord,” she said. “War isn’t coming soon. It’s already here.”