A Ghost's Wish [MxM]

50. A Rucrean King

While Oliver was escaping through the treasury, Draco stepped out of a carriage.  He was dressed in a black suit with a cape draping over a shoulder. His royal emblem was used as a clasp for his cloak, but a silver brooch with a purple diamond was pinned to his black cravat. His hair was intricately braided, and despite his protests, he wore a circlet crown that sat above his forehead. It wasn't embellished but was carved out of onyx with a scalelike pattern carved into it.

For the first time in either life, the King of Rucrea was going to make an appearance. It was the only way he could think of to force Piers to bring out Oliver.

He and his men were the last to arrive at the palace, and he felt sick seeing the number of guards and embellished carriages. It was a deplorable farce.

After a week of searching and tearing apart the underworld of Bierze, he was wrathful. His body trembled with rage, and the dragon yearned to be released. He had to fight to suppress his scales, but his claws and fangs were elongated, and his red eyes were more monster than man. Heat radiated off his body, ready to burn the world in his wake.

He was going to bring Oliver home with him, and then he was going to gift Oliver the ruins of the Bierzen palace.

And when his rage was sated, he would wrap Oliver in furs, take him back to the lands of pure white snow, and worship him to make up for their time apart.

He walked up the stairs to the ballroom; his footsteps were heavy and menacing. Aris and Castor flanked his sides, afraid to make unnecessary noises. They desired to bring their second King home, mainly because Draco's overwhelming pressure was unbearable.

Yet, there was a glimmer of hope. Max and Morris had confirmed that Oliver was in the palace. He was taken into a greenhouse one afternoon. That evening, over two dozen corpses were taken out of the same greenhouse.

Aris casually handed their invite to the servant who was announcing guests.

"Your name, sir?" He said, not bothering to look up.

Aris glared at the pompous man. He was furious that someone would dare ignore their King, who was on the breach of shifting. "He is Draconis Ladon Lyrell. The North Star and Great Dragon. King of Rucrea."

Draco pursed his lips as his full name and titles were spilled.

The servant jerked his head up and turned pale when he saw Draco. Any man could wear a crown and call himself king, but only a select few would bear the red eyes of the Lyrell family. And less would have the bearing to be worthy of such titles.

"I...I apologize. I w...will announce n...now." He stuttered.

He etched the names and titles in his heart and turned towards the ballroom. With a loud voice, "Entering Draconis Ladon Lyrell, King of Rucrea."

The ballroom's murmuring had fallen silent. Draco stepped inside, and a collective gasp was heard. Everyone had known that the Rucrean King was young, but his age and demeanor were surprising.

Draco didn't bother with the people looking at him or the men and women who batted their eyes toward him. Draco didn't waste his time on the fools clamoring to curry favor with him and ignored them.

He knew Oliver would not be in attendance, but he still couldn't help but desperately search for the familiar white hair. When he confirmed he wasn't there, his dark mood plummeted further.

Aris and Castor remained quiet, learning that one does not try to comfort a dragon. The Rucrean soldiers also knew this and kept their gazes on the crowd. They would stop anyone from approaching. They didn't need to protect their King. Rather, they needed to protect others from him.