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The Last Dragon King (Kings of Avalier #1)(4)

Author:Leia Stone

Finally, I can relax.

I leaned back against the angled tub and slid as far down as I could go before drowning. My hair snaked out around me and I was shocked and slightly ashamed to see it looked brown and not blond because it was so dirty. The bathwater had a slight reddish tinge to it from all the blood, so I closed my eyes and just breathed in and out slowly, letting the scent of neem and sandalwood fill my nostrils.

Seven days of stalking the beast and sleeping on rocks and leaves was all worth it now. Gone were the days of hunting small game like rabbits and possums and being ridiculed by the males. I was a respected hunter now—Hades, the men might even let me join the hunters’ guild—

“The king’s men come this way!” a female voice shouted into the bathhouse and my eyelids snapped open, jarring me from my daydreaming.

The king’s men? Were they drafting for the war or something? Why else would they come here all the way from Jade City? Normally, we brought coal or sandalwood to them to trade; they never came to us. We were the dirty forgotten village of Embergate that the king tolerated but never visited or paid any mind to. There were no powerful dragon-folk here for him to draft into his army or be of any use. We were a bunch of mixed breed mutts.

“Listen here!” the same young woman said throughout the bathhouse and I sat up, reaching out to peel the thatch door open and look at her.

Kendal. I should have known. She was the town gossip and lived for any bit of news, especially news from Jade City and anything concerning the dragon king. She liked to think of herself as the town crier. We were friends, but I didn’t enjoy her company for too long.

Reaching into her coat, she pulled out some official looking scroll and opened it.

“King Valdren seeks a new wife to give him an heir.” She paused for the collective gasp that ripped through the bathhouse, mine included.

He’d only been married to Queen Amelia for three winters and lost four children with her before she finally succumbed to death in childbirth. He had been a young king, married at my age, and was now only twenty-one winters old. Their marriage was the reason I’d traveled to Jade City when I was fifteen. A royal wedding was an exciting affair throughout the realm. Queen Amelia had been gone only a single winter, and without an heir he was vulnerable to the Nightfall queen, who sought to take over this realm and purge it of dragon-folk magic. It was inevitable that he’d seek a new wife, but hearing it official like this was shocking.

Kendal cleared her throat, trying to hide a grin. “He is now opening a full search throughout all of Embergate for a new queen—”

The gasps and shrieks of excitement tore throughout the bathhouse and I couldn’t help but snicker at their desperation. The king would never marry a Cinder girl. It was just formality that he announce it here as we were technically a territory of Embergate.

“To bear him an heir,” Kendal went on, “he will send sniffers to each town and village and city within Embergate’s borders to find all eligible women with powerful enough magic to carry his child to term. They must be presented to him by next full moon.”

The collective groans of disappointment filled the space. “He’s not going to find anyone with powerful magic in Cinder Village!” one of the younger women said, defeated.

“Not one powerful enough to bear a dragon king heir,” Naomie agreed.

They were right. Sadly, Queen Amelia died because his magic was too powerful for her to carry his child, and I heard she had been nearly half dragon-folk.

Kendal tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I personally am one-quarter dragon-folk and so—”

The bathhouse erupted into laughter and I couldn’t help my own snort.

“Honey, one-quarter?” Naomie shook her head. “To carry a child to term for the dragon king himself, you’d have to be half dragon-folk and blessed by the Maker.”

Kendal rolled up the parchment hastily and shoved it in her pocket. “We shall let the sniffers decide!” She tore out of the bathhouse, then the gossip started up full-bore.

“Poor young man, losing his wife and four children,” someone said.

“Why couldn’t she carry an heir? Hades, with my hips I could give him ten children,” Bertha Beezle crooned.

I suddenly felt protective over the late queen.

“She didn’t do anything! The king’s magic is too strong for mortal women,” I snapped.

Any ounce of humanity the queen carried was torn in half by the pure-blooded dragon king’s magic as she went into labor.

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