Chapter 2
GAVIN
I breathe in the familiar scent of leather and ink.
It’s a fresh change compared to the perfumed air that fills the rest of the establishment housing my private library.
Downstairs, patrons pay for release. Upstairs, I study.
Whenever I’m home in Lane, anyway. Having a library away from the palace is a good idea.
No one follows me to the brothel to look over my shoulder.
Of course, I also have a library in my chambers at the palace. I can’t be far from my books for long.
I hang my cloak on the hook by the door, feeling sweat drip down my back. It’s entirely too hot to be so bundled up, but I don’t want anyone knowing who I am.
It’s been months since I’ve been inside, always doing whatever His Majesty bids me to do. Pointless missions. Luckily, Belea, the madam of the establishment, keeps the library neat and tidy. Not one layer of dust mars my beloved books.
The room is smaller than I’d like, but it houses what I need.
Two of the four walls are bookshelves filled with books.
I have a simple desk and chair, but Belea insists on something comfortable as well and has a lounge brought in.
I’m grateful for it; too often before, I’ve found myself falling asleep at the desk.
A window lets the moonlight in, but it’s not nearly enough to read by. I walk to my desk and drop the stack of fresh books, then tap the thick glowstone lining the windowsill to fill the room with brilliant light. It’s as if the sun is shining.
I shove off my boots and loosen my belt.
Planning to spend the night, I tug off my shirt as well.
Taking the first book off the top of my stack, I scoot to the lounge and plop down.
Sighing, I lean back and bring my feet up to lie in the plush velvet.
I won’t stay awake long, but I want to get started on the book.
My current research topic, or rather, my passion project, is merfolk and their tales.
I’ve collected a copy of every book I can find on the topic from all over the realm and neighboring kingdoms. It all started with my mother’s stories when I was a child.
She had a girlhood friend who was merfolk, a friendship I suspect she loved more than just friendship.
But duty called, and she married His Majesty.
I can’t help that I’ve romanticized the stories.
But learning about merfolk helps the realm too.
Mer tears can heal, and I want to know if they have any other useful properties.
Not that I’d force a mer into being a research subject. I’m not that type of person.
I often think about what I’d do if I met a mer. What would their voice sound like? How would they move? Would I be able to tell they were merfolk when they were in their human form? Descriptions of merfolk in human form are rare.
The journal in my hand is deep green with an embossed mermaid on the cover.
I found it a couple of months back and am eager to read it.
From my initial glance, it’s written by merfolk about merfolk and their magic.
The authors are a mer couple named Kallen and Rayla.
I hope to discover secrets I haven’t found through other means.
Learning another type of magic just adds to my excitement.
I know I should read something more useful, but I always gravitate toward merfolk.
The fact that I haven’t yet met one frustrates me beyond measure.
They haven’t been seen in any of the known realms for decades, not since the necromancer war before my birth.
If only I could meet a mer. I just want to have a conversation, nothing more. Sate my curiosity.
As I open the book, the spine cracks, and I cringe.
I hate that sound. The first page has a faded drawing of a woman’s face, labeled Rayla.
Long, flowing hair goes off the page. She has a sadness about her hidden beneath her obvious beauty.
I imagine she is blonde, though I’m not sure of the shade.
The next page is a faded drawing of a blond man labeled Kallen.
His long hair flows around his head, though not as long as Rayla’s.
The third page shows a perfectly round gelatinous egg, taking up the entire paper.
I can’t help but grin. So, merfolk are eggborn.
Or are they like dragon shifters and can choose between eggborn and human birth?
The label under the egg explains that merfolk don’t have surface names, but that friends above water usually name them.
The parents have no way of writing out their son’s mer name and haven’t given him a surface name themselves.
Him.
The word hatched is underlined with a date. I calculate the time. The mer would be twenty-four, twenty-five come next spring. Page four reveals a portrait of an adorable, chubby-cheeked child. Is he still alive? Why has the journal been abandoned?
I flip through the journal and find several fascinating stories about grand adventures. I can’t wait to dive in, but my lids are heavy.
A knock comes at the door, startling me from my thoughts. “Enter.”
The door swings open, and Damon—my personal guard—strolls into the room. He’s wrapped in a cape like I am. I’ve been so engrossed in my book I had’t heard Damon’s heavy boots climb the stairs.
He’s a full head taller than me, not to mention the span of his thick horns. Damon is a true giant of a dragon in human form. There’s little doubt why His Majesty chose him for my guard.
Compared to other dragon shifters, especially to Damon, I’m small, but I’m still huge when compared to humans.
I’m easily half a foot taller than the average man.
Thick muscled thighs, broad chest and shoulders, big arms. I have no complaints about my physique, and neither does anyone else.
Silver eyes and curving horns tell the world I’m dragon, and that’s enough for me.
Damon smiles at the book in my hand. “One of these days, I’ll catch you with someone.”
I cock a brow. “Doubtful. I only come here to study.”
“Which is the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard. You know the rumors.”
I wave away Damon’s words. “Yes, yes. Prince Gavin goes to the brothels every time he’s home. He must have dozens of little bastards running around.”
Damon snorts and settles at my desk, causing the chair to creak and groan.
“Your father summons you.”
I bark out a laugh and snap the book closed before setting it next to me. “I’ve been home for half a day, and he’s already sending me back out. Anything to keep me out of his hair.” My voice is raw with the need for something to drink. I want to stay here for the night, like I planned.
“He’s not sending you away this time.” Damon slaps his knee before pushing back to his feet. “He said to pull you out of whatever cunny you were fucking and drag you to the throne room, but he doesn’t know you like I do.”
I snort. “I have partaken of the offerings of the establishment before.”
“But not lately.”
No… not lately.
Damon tips his head toward the door. “We should probably head out. His Majesty doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Neither do I,” I clip out. “If he’s not sending me away, what does he possibly want?”
Mischief twinkles in Damon’s brown eyes. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“I hate surprises, and you know it,” I grumble as I reluctantly push to my feet.
“Fine. Fine. You finally have the chance to be a Grand Mage.”
“His Majesty is granting me a Task? Why didn’t you say that to begin with? Let’s go.” I grab my tunic and tug it on. “I want it more than breath itself.” Perhaps more than the desire to meet merfolk.
I refasten my belt and shove my feet back into my boots. Damon is already at the door holding my cape for me to once again hide my identity.
I slide the cape on, then retrieve the journal from the lounge.
I turn on my heel and pass my guard to stomp down the hallway.
The stairs creak with its cracked wooden boards.
Maybe I should invest in the building’s infrastructure if I’m going to keep my precious collection here. Damon follows close behind.
When we reach the ground floor, I ignore the chorus of moans and groans from the brothel’s patrons.
I throw open the front door, spilling bright moonlight through the threshold.
The palace in the distance is like a beacon, the white marble bright in the light of the moon.
More a mansion than a fortified castle like humans would build.
Dragons don’t require all the stone to protect them.
We have flight and fire on our side when needed.
Plus, with the palace positioned on a cliff, anyone attacking that isn’t also a dragon has to go through the village or approach by sea and climb the mountain.
The realm of Lane has been relatively safe for centuries.
There was that war with the necromancers of Lovan before I was born, but Lane won and has been free of the undead since.
I want to fly, but Damon has brought our horses. The beasts are huge, bred for stamina and to hold the weighty bulk of dragons.
“What is the Task His Majesty finally chose for me? Did he say why he’s forced me to wait so long? He’s never allowed me a private audience to ask.” I rub a hand down my horse’s side. The creature is a pretty chestnut. I slide the merfolk’s journal into the saddlebag.
“I don’t know the answer to either question.” Damon pulls himself onto his horse.
I scowl. Settling on my saddle, I follow Damon, who sets a fast pace through the fairly quiet streets.
We pass by empty shops. Most villagers would be asleep.
The sublime scent of cooked meat fills the air from around a tavern, and my stomach grumbles in response.
The few people on the paved road hurry away at the sharp clomping hooves, not realizing one of the riders is their prince.
I don’t care; I’m nobody anyway. Third son to the king. Unneeded, unwanted.