I’d lived because some father I’d never met had placed more importance on my survival than the dominion’s. Why? Because I was born of his seed, presumably in bed play that meant very little to him at the time. Jorat could go to Hell as long as his spawn survived.

The arrogance burned in my throat.

They will try to break you, Khored had said. No, wait. That was wrong. That hadn’t been Khored, had it?

Relos Var will try to break you, Xaltorath had said. You must let him succeed.

Why, Xaltorath? Why did you single me out? What did you hope to accomplish? I saw the wheels turning inside wheels, but devoid of context, ignorant of motives, the movements made no sense. I saw the game, but I had no idea what forces shaped the rules.

But in that moment, I knew a great many forces were playing this game, and they all intended to claim me as their piece.

While I sat there and stared out at nothing, Duke Kaen stood up, picked up the tray, and carried it over to a different table. He went to the door and I heard him speaking low words to someone outside.

I turned around and studied the map.

When he returned, I faced him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve upset you.”

“Nothing you say can upset me,” I whispered, although even a five-year-old wouldn’t have been fooled by so feeble a lie.

“It’s not all a threat I’ve invented, I should add. There are dangers to Jorat your people don’t even know about, dangers that would destroy your people if they’re not combated.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and I suppose you’re the only one who can save us? That sounds very convenient for you.”

“Oh, if only. Aeyan’arric—that’s the ice dragon you encountered—is well-behaved and mostly in possession of her faculties. Relos Var gives her tasks, and she carries them out. The other dragons, though.” He shook his head. “Dragons are insane. They aren’t controllable. They aren’t tamable. Relos Var can make Aeyan’arric behave, but I’ll never trust her. And the largest and the most dangerous—Morios—sleeps under Lake Jorat. When he wakes—and it will be when, not if—he’ll destroy half the dominion before he’s subdued. There’s even a prophecy about him. Would you like to hear it?”

“A prophecy.” I stared at him. “I don’t like prophecies.”

“They can be useful.” He pulled a book from his shelves and opened it to a bookmarked page. “Especially this one. In the twentieth year of the hawk and the lion, beneath the silver sword, the sleeping beast’s chains shatter. The dragon of swords devours demon falls as night takes the land.” Kaen offered me the book. “A Devoran quatrain.”