Vampire Legacy (Book 4 of the Dragon Heat series) by Ella J. Phoenix Page B
Authors: Ella J. Phoenix
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meantime,” he added quickly. “Do not retaliate against any draconians you find in your lands. We do not want a war to start because of a few rebels who are unhappy with their sewerage system.”
His statement was met with mixed reactions, some lords were agreeable, others not so much but for the moment, that was good enough for Petran. His land lords looked up to him to represent them in international affairs. If they got wind that Petran had a certain redhead in mind when he asked them not to engage with the rebels, their support, and gold, would easily change direction.
“We believe in our majesty’s word and bless the Soartas for his kindness,” Yerik spoke up evoking an air of certainty in the small crowd.
Yerik had been his father’s royal councilor, a very influential position for a vampire prevenient of a plebe family. Unfortunately, for Yerik, Petran disliked having a personal councilor, having seen one too many great rulers fall under the treacherous knives of their right-hand men. He created instead, a group of advisors, his very own senate, to assist him in the managing of local affairs. He was expecting retaliation from Yerik, either directly or indirectly, but it never came. Yerik was always the first one to support his decisions, no matter which ones. Petran had a feeling that if he proposed a law to ban vampires from drinking blood, Yerik would support that too. Maybe the vampire was just tired of carrying the extra weight on his shoulders after being a royal councilor for so long. Petran knew too well, how strenuous it was to be in a governing position.
The door to his Grand Apartment creaked open and an exasperated Arthur stepped in. Sensing his chamberlain’s distress, Petran held his palm up once again. “I am afraid I will have to cut our session short. There are urgent affairs that need my attention.”
At once, the group of councilors started making their way out without protest. They knew better. Arthur rushed in the room and whispered some disturbing news in his ear.
“He’s doing what?” Petran asked, not believing what he had just heard.
“Balaur is travelling with an entourage toward Somenski’s castle, your majesty,” Arthur replied. “I too was baffled by the news, but it is true. Our sentinels have confirmed, Kalaur’s brother is on a horse.”
Petran’s brow dipped low. That didn’t sound good. Why would Kalaur send his brother with an entourage? And why in Hiad were they traveling by horse, not flying? Even though it was unlawful for Draco serfs to shift without permission, Balaur was a member of the lordship’s family, so rules of the land didn’t apply to him.
“Get my cloak and kalpak,” Petran commanded. “I’m afraid we’ll have to pay Somenski another visit.” He stood up from his desk, walked to his cabinet where he retrieved his hunting blades.
“Are you going to Somenski’s again?” a female voice came from the door.
“It’s not polite to eavesdrop, Hillia,” Petran replied to his wife, without lifting his eyes from buckling his sheath.
“The door was open, husband,” she replied coming in, even though he hadn’t invited her.
Arthur returned with his travelling gear—his long fur cloak and his pointed Turkish-style kalpak.
“Urgent matters cannot wait,” Petran simply replied and turning around to allow Arthur to put his cape on, but it was Hillia’s long fingers that did the job.
Great, how much did she want now?
Oh, yes, because for Hillia to be this caring, it only meant one thing. She wanted gold.
Petran took a deep breath and curbed his bitter thoughts. He shouldn’t feel repulsed by her, for she was a woman of rare beauty but he couldn’t stop himself. His marriage to Hillia had been a political arrangement between the two most powerful houses of Romania. They had nothing in common and from the very first week sharing the same roof, Petran had learnt his wife only cared for his status, and fine clothes. As soon as she
His statement was met with mixed reactions, some lords were agreeable, others not so much but for the moment, that was good enough for Petran. His land lords looked up to him to represent them in international affairs. If they got wind that Petran had a certain redhead in mind when he asked them not to engage with the rebels, their support, and gold, would easily change direction.
“We believe in our majesty’s word and bless the Soartas for his kindness,” Yerik spoke up evoking an air of certainty in the small crowd.
Yerik had been his father’s royal councilor, a very influential position for a vampire prevenient of a plebe family. Unfortunately, for Yerik, Petran disliked having a personal councilor, having seen one too many great rulers fall under the treacherous knives of their right-hand men. He created instead, a group of advisors, his very own senate, to assist him in the managing of local affairs. He was expecting retaliation from Yerik, either directly or indirectly, but it never came. Yerik was always the first one to support his decisions, no matter which ones. Petran had a feeling that if he proposed a law to ban vampires from drinking blood, Yerik would support that too. Maybe the vampire was just tired of carrying the extra weight on his shoulders after being a royal councilor for so long. Petran knew too well, how strenuous it was to be in a governing position.
The door to his Grand Apartment creaked open and an exasperated Arthur stepped in. Sensing his chamberlain’s distress, Petran held his palm up once again. “I am afraid I will have to cut our session short. There are urgent affairs that need my attention.”
At once, the group of councilors started making their way out without protest. They knew better. Arthur rushed in the room and whispered some disturbing news in his ear.
“He’s doing what?” Petran asked, not believing what he had just heard.
“Balaur is travelling with an entourage toward Somenski’s castle, your majesty,” Arthur replied. “I too was baffled by the news, but it is true. Our sentinels have confirmed, Kalaur’s brother is on a horse.”
Petran’s brow dipped low. That didn’t sound good. Why would Kalaur send his brother with an entourage? And why in Hiad were they traveling by horse, not flying? Even though it was unlawful for Draco serfs to shift without permission, Balaur was a member of the lordship’s family, so rules of the land didn’t apply to him.
“Get my cloak and kalpak,” Petran commanded. “I’m afraid we’ll have to pay Somenski another visit.” He stood up from his desk, walked to his cabinet where he retrieved his hunting blades.
“Are you going to Somenski’s again?” a female voice came from the door.
“It’s not polite to eavesdrop, Hillia,” Petran replied to his wife, without lifting his eyes from buckling his sheath.
“The door was open, husband,” she replied coming in, even though he hadn’t invited her.
Arthur returned with his travelling gear—his long fur cloak and his pointed Turkish-style kalpak.
“Urgent matters cannot wait,” Petran simply replied and turning around to allow Arthur to put his cape on, but it was Hillia’s long fingers that did the job.
Great, how much did she want now?
Oh, yes, because for Hillia to be this caring, it only meant one thing. She wanted gold.
Petran took a deep breath and curbed his bitter thoughts. He shouldn’t feel repulsed by her, for she was a woman of rare beauty but he couldn’t stop himself. His marriage to Hillia had been a political arrangement between the two most powerful houses of Romania. They had nothing in common and from the very first week sharing the same roof, Petran had learnt his wife only cared for his status, and fine clothes. As soon as she
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