Dragonbound: Birthrights (Book 2)

The sky was filled with thick, gray clouds, releasing rain onto the City of Rishana. Over the past year, the walls were rebuilt, but the relationship the king held with his people was still being nurtured.

Davin sat on his throne, absently staring out the window, the rain building a natural curtain. It wasn’t long ago that he sat there, bleeding onto the hard seat, watching Kiaran in her deteriorating dragon form.

“Your Highness,” Reshmil said as he bowed. Reshmil was a short, heavyset man who often stood guard at the door. Today, he was introducing the numerous people who lined up outside, hoping to spend two minutes with their king. “Nimel Megil and his daughter, Serah Megil.”

The two timidly entered the throne room, the daughter holding onto her father’s arm. They were both thin and a bit tall, both with brown hair. Their clothing and hair were wet from the outside rain.

Nothing seemed too particularly special about them, but Davin never allowed that to blind him to their importance. He smiled warmly, adjusting his position in his seat. The beard he had grown added to his age and made him look more important.

The two bowed and Davin asked, “What is it I can do for you?”

They stood again, Serah keeping her head low. “Your Highness, I seek your grace...My daughter is a good woman, indeed, but she is blind. She cannot work, and no man is willing to marry her. However, I swear to you that she is very quick to learn. She is smart and can do a few things, though not without occasional accident.”

“What is it you hope to gain from this visit?” he asked. He eyed the girl curiously, watching as she timidly kept her head low. Her hair was pulled back into a nice bun and she wore her nicest dress, though it was still faded and without delicate details.

“I-I am not sure, but you are the king. I am sure you can do something,” he replied. “She is an excellent singer. Hear her voice, your Majesty. I am sure you will love it.” Davin smiled, looking to the girl. “Please, my King...I am old...I cannot promise to keep her company or provide her a home...I will die soon enough--”

“Father,” she whispered.

“Sing for me, Miss Megil,” Davin said as he leaned back in his throne.

“Uh—Yes, your Highness,” she stammered. She swallowed a couple times, standing tall and still seeming quite scared. After she composed herself, she sang. Softly at first, but then she began singing beautifully. Her voice echoed off the walls, filling the air in sweet melody. When she finished, she smiled, bowed her head, and was quiet once more.

“You sing very well,” he commented. “We will find some use from you.”

“Oh, thank you,” the father said graciously.

“She may move into the servant’s quarters whenever you are ready,” he added.

They thanked him as they left, bowing lowly. Once they were gone, Davin slouched in his seat, removing his crown. It was heavy and uncomfortable. Maybe not as much as a helmet, but it seemed to weigh so much more. Walter stepped into the room, bowing shortly before approaching.

“News, Walter?” Davin asked.

“We have received word from Kiaran,” he said, flashing the letter to him. “She is to have a coronation soon, and requests you to come.”

“Well, we have much work to do...can we afford to be gone for the duration?” he asked.

“I’d like to think so,” he nodded. His graying hair was combed back from his face, his beard hiding most of his deep scar.

"I will make my decision by tomorrow," he grumbled. He rubbed his temple, looking out the window.

That evening, he sat in his chambers, working on letters and laws. It was excruciating having to read all of the laws and write all the words. But, he did it, knowing no one else could do it as well. He had a job to do, and thus, he did it.

His hand cramped, so he sat the quill down, rubbing a thumb into his palm. He wasn't one to use a pen, but rather hold a sword.

His eyes lifted to the old book propped up on his desk. The sunlight which poured in through the open window glowed gold across its cover. He smiled a little, thinking about Kiaran. It was the book of the Zeil, one she had gifted him long ago.

The thought of seeing her becoming a princess was quizzical. She would likely wear a fancy dress and have her hair done up nicely. Maybe some make-up as well. Alana would have enjoyed that.

He missed her dreadfully; he missed everyone. His brother and Kiaran were far away. And Alana was dead. Davin’s parents still lived just on the edge of the city, turning down his offer to live in the castle. They liked their home, the one his father had built many years ago.

Though he missed everyone, he was busy. He was always too busy to spend any time with anyone, and he tried to write, but even that proved difficult.

Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and stood. Throwing his clothes to the floor, he climbed into bed, falling asleep the second his head hit the pillow.