Read Online Stone Dragon (The First Realm) by Klay Testamark - Free Book Online Page A

will! Appoint me as your personal advisor and I will always be at your side. We will establish a dynasty to last ten thousand years!”
    “Urgh,” I said. I was getting a headache again. Valandil patted me on the back and wandered toward the champagne. I would have headed to the gardens, but then Meerwen was before me.
    “Hello,” she said. “You clean up nicely.”
    I bowed. “And you look stunning.” She wore a light blue dress. Her short hair was embellished with a silver tiara.
    She tilted her head. “Are you sure? It seems everyone has eyes for the capran ambassador. Who would have thought to combine a plunging back with an open-front skirt?”
    “You must admit, Her Excellency has great legs. And who else has jewels set in her hooves and horns?”
    “Randy little goat,” Meerwen muttered. I was about to ask whether she meant the Ambassador or me, but then she smiled. “Would you like to dance?”
    “Of course,” I said. I offered my arm and led her to the dance floor.
    Unlike the halfling music from earlier that week, the soundtrack of this ball was strictly elven, and highbrow at that. It used no instruments invented less than a thousand years ago and all the composers were generations dead. Given our life spans, that’s saying a lot.
    The dancers flowed in precise geometries, sometimes in circles and sometimes in stars. Partners broke away, sidestepped, and paired up with new partners. They orbited and spun, leaped together and apart, linked hands and made lines.
    Mastering a single dance took decades, which was why only elves ventured onto the floor. The humans and the dwarves stood to the sidelines, looking on with admiration and envy.
    “You’ve got moves, Meerwen,” I said.
    “Thanks. You dance well too.”
    My headache was definitely worsening. What started as a low-key buzzing had become a pounding, as if something were trying to get out. It must’ve showed on my face, because Meerwen frowned. “Is something wrong?” she asked. “Am I doing this okay?”
    “It’s not you,” I said. “I don’t feel well.”
    “Do you want to stop?”
    I shook my head. “I can last through this dance. It sounds like it’s almost done.”
    I saw Valandil heading toward the stage. He had a scroll under his arm, no doubt evidence for when he proclaimed me as the next king.
    Stupid old man, to think he could bend a dragon to his will. I should’ve killed him in that cave.
    What?
    I was sweating in my formal outfit. My skin itched so hard it was almost crawling off my back. Colored shadows swam behind my eyes. I was suddenly hungry, but when I glanced at the buffet it might as well have been a pile of rocks. I turned my attention to my dance partner. She looked tasty.
    “Angrod? Are you okay?”
    I swallowed, trying not to drool. Sweet, sweet flesh. I wanted to tear off her legs and eat them raw.
    “Angrod?”
    Distantly I noted that my master had climbed onto the stage. The music had stopped and he was already activating a voice-amplification spell. It was a simple enough bit of wind magic, but he still went for the old joke: “Is this thing on?”
    I was shaking and cramping, but managed to hold together as the crowd turned to the stage.
    “As you recall, I was advisor to the last king, Galdor Lissesul. He was a wise, fair sovereign who treated everyone with respect. Most people don’t know he formed the council that currently governs Brandish. He created it with the express purpose of making sure that no single person was all-powerful. It is a testament to his foresight that our country has survived so long with an empty throne.”
    “But that will change.”
    He took a beat to glance around. Findecano and Tari Elanesse stood to one side, their faces unreadable. My master continued:
    “As you know, His Highness was executed by a mob during a famine. It was a most shameful treatment of a great man, one who had spent his last days searching for a solution. I was there when they killed him, and I