265. The trio
265. The trio
As the seasons passed, the palace never remained the same. Arianna recalled the dream she had several years ago, the blissful sight of the garden, her head resting on her mate’s broad chest as they watched three children playing, their giggles echoing through the breeze.
It was happening.
Her twins, Darian and Lyra, had grown so well. They were eight. Strong, passionate, and adorable. The third child was Lylah's daughter, Velina. She had grown up smart and, of course, stubborn. She was like a little sister to the twins—inseparable.
Arianna looked up at her husband, whose gaze was fixed on a book, his other hand gently stroking her hair.
Sensing her gaze, Duncan looked down at her.
“Wife,” he muttered.
After all these years, their love never wavered. It only grew stronger. Even though rough times came once in a while, it never took too long before they found their way back. They were obsessed with each other.
“Husband,” she chuckled, and he nuzzled her nose.
She then flicked her gaze to the other side, where her first son sat, also focused on a book.
Rheal, now fifteen, looked composed, loving, charming, and incredibly good-looking like his father. Lucas often referred to him as Duncan’s junior, never by his name. He wore a simple black tunic with two buttons undone, just like his father.
“Rheal looks so handsome,” Arianna nosily whispered to Duncan.
“More than I am?”
“Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because I want to. Is he more handsome than me or not?” Duncan whispered back.
“You know I can't choose. You both are so charming my heart won’t stop fluttering.”
“You know I feel a little uncomfortable hearing you two, right?” Rheal looked at them with a softened gaze. “Father, just admit it. I’m way more handsome.”
“Little punk,” Duncan muttered.
“No. You two, do not start,” Arianna warned.
“Sure, Mother Dearest,” Rheal said, rising to his feet. “I’m going for training. I’ll see you soon.”
He kissed his mother’s cheek, earning a smile, then winked at his father, earning a glare.
As he left, Arianna whispered something into Duncan’s ear that eased the tension in his expression.
She sighed at the thought of Rheal growing into a capable male. No longer the little boy who clung to her arms asking endless questions.
“He’s going to be a heartbreaker.”
“He already is.” Duncan tossed his book aside and drew his wife closer.
“He got it from someone.”
“His mother,” he smirked.
They returned their gaze to the three younger kids. Arianna bit down her lip. Velina had climbed a tree again. Darian was cheering her on while Lyra shouted warnings.
“There she goes again. And she never falls. Just like Lylah.”
She remembered Lylah doing the same in the past while she panicked like Lyra. But her sister never did fall. And just like Darian, Arianna would sometimes encourage her.
“I can see why Lylah doesn’t want any more children,” Arianna muttered. “Her daughter is so much like her.”
“Lucas wants more. He’ll convince her. That punk is good at that.”
Arianna chuckled while Duncan mind-linked the nearby soldiers to stay close in case Velina slipped.
••••••••••••
RHEAL
Just like every other day, the maids flushed at the sight of him. They never got tired of it, and he had learned the art of ignoring them.
Rheal had many focuses in his life, but three stood at the top: One, make his parents proud and protect them. Two, be a great example for his siblings. And lastly, become a great king.
He wasn’t in a rush. He simply wanted to make sure that when the time came, he would be ready.
The training ground was filled with trainees, wolves and Ouroboros alike, and among them were two of his best friends.
Cal and Eshara.
They hadn’t left the Citadel after his mother was crowned Queen, choosing to stay. It was a surprise Sylra agreed and left without them, and Rheal was glad they stayed. He wasn’t alone.
At first, the palace had been wary of Cal, wondering why King Duncan had allowed the son of a man who once killed innocents to remain. When Rheal found out, he took action against those speaking ill. He was twelve.
And ever since then, their friendship hadn’t faded. Cal, now twenty, was still as crazy as ever, in a charming way. He always found a way to make people like him.
Eshara, nineteen, was a cold and quiet female—sassy and barely saying a word, except around Rheal or Cal. She was protective of Rheal. Some said she had a crush on him, but truthfully, she saw Rheal as a friend.
Cal and Eshara are as well dragon keepers. They had both found their respective dragons’ eggs at the age of eighteen.
“Woo... here comes Crown Prince Rheal. Tormentor of my life.”
“Shut up, Cal. Be serious for once,” Eshara said, raising a dagger to his neck.
Cal let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Is that how you treat your future husband, Esh?”
Eshara stepped on his foot, and Cal groaned.
“Drakora shouldn’t have made you a dragon keeper. Even though you've overcame your fear of heights, the thought of living hundreds of years staring at your face is frustrating.”
“It’s too early for both of you to be this loud,” Rheal said as he reached them.
“She started it,” Cal flinched dramatically as Eshara glared at him.
“All right, folks!” came a powerful female voice everyone would recognize.
A voice that made every warrior freeze.
Lylah Ardyn. The Head Warrior.
“I believe you boneheads had a nice three-day break and are prepared to return with sharpened blades and less of your usual nonsense.”
Lylah still looked the same, only stronger and more beautiful. Eyes sharp, and her twin long braids were back, making her look sexy, just as Lucas always referred to her. She was feared, loved, and respected.
Cal straightened. “Head Warrior Ardyn, I assure you, I am always prepared. Mentally and emotionally.”
“Emotionally?” Eshara scoffed. “You cried last week when your dragon bit your boots.”
“She chewed my boots. There’s a difference. They were my favorite, one the Grand Queen gifted me herself. And I didn’t cry. It was fake,” Cal shot back.
Rheal said nothing, but his grin was small and warm. Watching the two bicker was strangely comforting.