Rhett stormed through the palace, his boots echoing loudly across the empty corridors. The new king had no destination in mind; he only knew he needed to get far away from the Great Hall. He needed space—space from the crowd and, most of all, from Amara. However, each step away from her caused pain in his chest, twisting his heart until he could barely breathe. It didn’t matter how angry he was with his wife; his body wanted to turn back and be near her.

  Silas wasn’t helping matters either. The dragon paced restlessly in Rhett’s mind. He was uneasy with how they left Amara and wanted nothing more than to have her in their arms once again.

  We should go back, he urged pleadingly. Our little dove needs us…

  Rhett gritted his teeth, pushing aside Silas’s voice. But the dragon kept bringing up the image of Amara’s tear-streaked face and the sounds of her cries as they left the room.

  But Rhett stayed firm. Amara’s betrayal was too fresh for him to forgive her. Silas could whine all he wanted, but Rhett wouldn’t give in. Not now. Not while her decision to place that cursed ring on his finger still burned like a brand.

  He glanced down at his hand, where the ring mocked him. Naming him king felt like the cruelest thing she could have done. He would have preferred it if she had stabbed his heart with a blade. At least that pain would have been simpler. Instead, she had shattered his dreams for their future, shackling him to a position he despised. To Rhett, being king wasn’t a privilege but a burden. One that dragged his family into the line of fire, making them easy targets.

  He clenched his fists, remembering how his mother was murdered in the middle of the night. And his father had endured countless attempts on his life—poison, ambushes, conspiracies.

  At least Rhett was a dragon shifter and could survive most attacks. And if the Creators were kind, the twins would share that protection. But Amara? She was human. Vulnerable. Naming him king had placed her in the public eye, and there would be no shortage of nobles eager to tear her down.

  There had been many times when Emmett accused them both of scheming for the throne. But there was no way it was just his brother who had these thoughts. The whispers would only grow louder now that Rhett was on the throne. Not only that, he was sure many would call Amara an ambitious woman, one who clawed her way from a farm to the throne. They would twist her love for Rhett into something ugly, painting her as a manipulative schemer.

  Rhett leaned against a stone wall, struggling to hold back the storm within himself. Deep down, he knew Amara hadn’t named him king for her own gain. She wasn’t like that. She had made this choice out of some misguided belief that it was what was best for the kingdom. But that didn’t matter now. Intentions couldn’t undo the damage done…

  The young king’s frustration flared once again as he reached for the ring, gripping it tightly and giving it a hard tug. But just as before, his efforts were in vain. Silas created scales, spreading them across his fingers, blocking the ring’s removal. It was as if he were protecting it, refusing to let Rhett rid himself of the horrid thing.

  “Why?” Rhett muttered under his breath. He couldn’t understand his dragon’s insistence on keeping the ring. But he didn’t have the patience to question Silas. He could feel the dragon’s emotions bubbling beneath the surface, ready to accept their new role wholeheartedly.

  “Useless lizard,” Rhett spat, dismissing Silas’s thoughts before they could upset him any further. Talking to his dragon would do nothing but add fuel to the flames.

  Pushing off the wall, he rounded a corner, nearly colliding with Julian. But rather than acknowledge him, Rhett turned quickly on his heels and walked away. He had no interest in whatever lecture his father wanted to give.

  “Rhett!” Julian called after him. When the young king ignored him, Julian chased after him, grabbing his arm to stop him.

  “We’ve been searching everywhere for you,” Julian said disapprovingly. “Tristan and I—”

  “Let go,” Rhett murmured coldly, yanking his arm free. “I don’t care. I want to be left alone.”

  “But the ceremony isn’t over,” Julian argued, refusing to back down. “You and Amara still need to return to the Great Hall and be crowned.”

  “I’m not going back,” Rhett growled, his voice growing louder with each word. “And I’ll die before I let anyone put that crown on my head.”

  “You cannot refuse,” Julian frowned. “Amara has already named you king. The decision is final.”

  “I didn’t want this!” Rhett bellowed, his rage echoing through the corridor. His fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t want to be king, and I sure as hell didn’t agree to this!”

  Julian’s eyes flashed red, the telltale sign of Draven coming forward. But the older man held back, taking a steadying breath before responding.

  “You don’t have a choice. The ring is on your finger. You’ve already been chosen.”

  Rhett growled, his anger boiling over as he yanked at the ring once more.

  “I don’t care! I want this thing off!” When it still refused to budge, he slammed his hand against the wall. The stone cracked beneath the impact, sending some dust and bits of rock to the ground.

  “Calm yourself,” Julian warned. But Rhett turned on him, shifting his stance to try and stand tall above his father.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” Rhett snarled. “You have no authority over me anymore.”

  That was the final straw for Draven. The dragon rushed forward, causing black and red scales to ripple across Julian’s skin. In a blur, he grabbed Rhett and slammed him against the wall with enough force to shake the corridor. The young king struggled, but Silas refused to fight back. The dragon remained quiet, and without his resistance, it was easy for Draven to keep Rhett pinned.

  “Listen to me, boy,” Draven growled as he leaned in. “You may wear the ring, but you’re still nothing compared to me. I’m bigger than Silas. I’m stronger than Silas. And if you continue to challenge me, I’ll have no problem putting you in your place.”

  Rhett’s body trembled as his fury crumbled under Draven’s dominance. He balled his hands into fists, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to maintain his composure. But eventually, something broke him—whether that was his anger, the betrayal, or his helplessness, Rhett didn’t know. His knees buckled slightly as he let out a gasp that quickly turned into a choked sob.

  “Why?” He questioned as his voice cracked. His head slumped forward, resting against Julian as tears streamed down his face. “Why couldn’t she just listen?”

  The fury that had fueled him only moments ago had now melted away, turning into despair. Julian’s eyes shifted back from red to hazel as his dragon quickly withdrew. For a moment, he was stunned, but then he reached forward, gently placing a hand on the back of Rhett’s head.

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  “Son—”

  “I didn’t ask for this!” Rhett interrupted bitterly. “I didn’t ask to be king! I wanted—Eena’s wrath, I wanted a normal life. To have a chance to be happy, to raise our children away from this hellish place… to have my brother back... Now it’s all ruined. She forced this on me. She forced all of it!”

  Julian sighed deeply, pulling Rhett away from the wall and guiding him to sit on a nearby bench. He knelt in front of his son, keeping his hands firmly on Rhett’s arms. For a few seconds, Julian merely looked at his son’s face, seeing not a king but a young man who reminded him so much of his late wife.

  “Rhett…” he began gently. “I know it feels like everything is falling apart, that you’ve lost everything you dreamed of having. But you haven’t… Even as a king, you can still live a peaceful, happy life. Amara gave you that ring because you were Sylvaris's best choice. And when this kingdom is prospering, then peace and happiness will surely follow.”

  Rhett’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue immediately. He stared at the floor, slumping his shoulders as he took a shaky breath.

  “She doesn’t know what’s best,” he murmured after a while. “This decision isn’t what’s best for our family. All she’s done is put herself and our children in danger. She made them targets for anyone who would seek to hurt me.”

  “It wouldn’t matter if you were king or not; those two babies will always be in danger,” Julian stated bluntly. “If she had named anyone else king, that person—or others—would eventually see your children as future problems. You may not want the throne, but we can’t know what they would want. History has already shown how bloody wars become when dragons fight over a crown. They will see any children you have as threats—kill them before they can even sprout wings.”

  “At least as king, you would have the power and resources to protect them. Wouldn’t you agree?” Julian questioned as he reached out, lifting Rhett’s chin so their eyes could meet. Rhett frowned deeply, and his hazel eyes darkened.

  “By sending them away to be Dukes or Duchesses of some distant city? By shipping them off to another kingdom under the guise of teaching them to be dragons, when in reality, it’s to keep them far from war? Like what you and Mother did with me and Emmett?”

  “You act as if it wasn’t hard for your mother and me to make that decision,” Julian scowled, lowering his voice. “She cried nearly every night you two were gone, and I could do nothing to make it better.”

  “You could have stepped down from the throne!” Rhett snapped

  “It wasn’t that simple for me,” Julian shook his head slowly. “Sylvaris wasn’t stable enough during my early reign. My father’s wars had emptied the treasuries, and droughts decimated most of our trade. It took years to rebuild the kingdom…”

  He paused mid-sentence as he looked at his son. Rhett’s shoulders were slumped, his hands trembled, and his hazel eyes were filled with unshed tears. He had a pained expression, and it suddenly dawned on Julian. If Rhett had to be forced to wear the crown, it would break him—if it hadn’t already. It didn’t matter how suited he was for the throne or how much the kingdom might prosper under his rule… not when all it left behind was a hollow man.

  Julian exhaled deeply as he tried to come up with a solution. After a moment of silence, he began to smile.

  “How about we compromise?”

  “Compromise?” Rhett repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of compromise?”

  “Come back to the Great Hall with me and accept the crown,” Julian proposed. Rhett opened his mouth to protest, but Julian held up a hand to stop him. “Hear me out. Accept the title of king with no argument, but only for now. In nine months, during the next Festival of Crowns, you’ll have the power to name a new king—a choice entirely your own. And whoever you choose, you can ensure they’ll protect your children. After that, you, Amara, and your little dragons can go back to Onlon—or wherever your heart desires—and live the life you want.”

  Rhett hesitated, his brows furrowing as he mulled over the offer.

  “In nine months, I can walk away?”

  “If that’s what you want, yes,” Julian nodded firmly.

  Rhett was silent for a minute, wondering if that would indeed be an acceptable solution. Nine months of unhappiness… But that seemed easy compared to an entire lifetime. He could easily find himself a replacement, perhaps train him on how to rule until the Festival of Crowns. After which, Rhett could then step down and pick up the pieces of his life… or whatever remained of it.

  “Fine,” he said quietly. “I’ll accept the compromise.”

  “Good,” Julian sighed in relief, standing up straight. “Let’s go get Amara and return to the Great Hall.”

  “No. Not Amara,” Rhett interjected firmly. “She is not to be crowned queen.”

  Julian blinked in surprise.

  “Rhett—”

  “No,” The young king cut him off. “She forced this on me, and for that, I won’t let her be crowned.”

  Julian hesitated, studying his son’s hardened expression. He wanted to argue, but he could see that it would lead to only more yelling. Pushing him further now would only make things worse.

  “Very well,” Julian nodded. “If that’s what you want, then so be it.”

  “Thank you,” Rhett exhaled deeply, pleased that his father would not fight him on this. He was already exhausted, his energy drained from everything that had happened.

  Without another word, he started walking, leading the way back to the Great Hall. Julian followed silently, though a deep frown was etched across his face. He understood that Rhett was upset, but his refusal to allow Amara to be crowned showed just how deep his anger for her went.

  As they neared the hall, they ran across Tristan, who was relieved to see Rhett.

  “There you are!” The young lord exclaimed as he ran up to them. “I’ve been looking all over for you. What’s going on?”

  “It’s fine,” Rhett said curtly, brushing past his friend without breaking his stride.

  Tristan paused, his relief turning quickly into concern as he looked between Rhett and Julian.

  “Fine?” He repeated, falling into step beside them. “You stormed out of the Great Hall. Nothing is fine about that.”

  Julian sighed, deciding to speak up before Rhett snapped again.

  “Rhett has agreed to be crowned king.”

  “That’s… good news, I suppose,” Tristan hesitated, glancing at Rhett in surprise. “And Amara? Should I go fetch her?”

  The mention of Amara was enough to cause Rhett to take in a sharp breath. He parted his lips as if he were about to say something, but Julian raised a hand to stop him.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Julian said quickly. “Amara will not be crowned Queen.”

  Tristan’s steps faltered, and his frown deepened as he turned to Julian.

  “Not be crowned? What are you talking about?”

  “It was Rhett’s decision,” Julian shook his head.

  Tristan opened his mouth to protest, but another glance at Julian was enough to make him stop. He closed his mouth, dipping his head slightly in acknowledgment.

  “Very well,” he said quietly. He looked at Rhett, who still hadn’t spoken, though his rigid posture said everything. “If that’s the decision, then so be it.”

  Once at the Great Hall, the three men stepped inside, causing the room to go silent as hundreds of pairs of eyes turned toward them. The gathered nobles were tense and uneasy, especially after Rhett’s dramatic exit earlier, dragging Amara with him after she named him king.

  Rhett walked without hesitation, keeping his gaze forward and looking at no one. Julian followed behind him, glancing around but saying nothing to the people he passed. Tristan, however, stepped away and walked to the left side of the hall. His mother, Stella, sat on a chair along the wall, with Molly Rose and Elara beside her. Tristan squatted in front of his wife and mother, frowning as he motioned for them to lean in close.

  “Rhett has refused to allow Amara to be named Queen,” he whispered, looking between them. “So the three of you should go to her. I’m almost certain they had a fight, and with how angry Rhett looks, I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

  “Where is she?” Molly Rose questioned with a frown.

  “I don’t know, but if I had to guess, Rhett would have sent her back to their chambers,” Tristan answered softly.

  Molly Rose nodded, grabbing Elara’s arm before standing. She guided the young girl toward the side exit, with Stella following close behind. But the older woman stopped at the door, glancing back to Rhett before stepping out. Once they were gone, Tristan exhaled deeply before going back to the others.

  Rhett had already ascended the platform and now stood before the King’s throne. He paused, reaching out to take the crown that had rested on his father’s head for decades. The hall was silent as he lifted it, holding it high above his head.

  “Nine months…” he whispered to himself, his words soft enough that no one could hear them.

  Then, he slowly lowered the crown onto his head. The golden circlet settled into place on his dark blonde hair. While he stood there, closing his eyes as he tried to process everything mentally, the crowd behind him began to clap. It wasn’t as excited or loud as when Amara first named him king, but it didn’t matter. He just needed to get through these next few months, to keep himself and the kingdom together long enough for a new king to be named.

  While the nobles clapped and Rhett was preoccupied, Julian leaned toward Tristan.

  “Go fetch the Queen’s crown,” he whispered. “We’re going to give it to Amara, no matter what my son says.”