He Took the Heirs' Emblems, Then Became Their King novel · Chapter 32 of 32
Chapter 32: The Golden Dragon
The reward arrived at breakfast, on a silver tray, with a card.
SYSTEM: Thank you for choosing to remain with us! Please enjoy your final reward.
On the tray sat two eggs.
One was warm gold and orange, with a flicker of flame under the shell.
The other was green and black, and coiled in on itself.
"A phoenix egg," Grant said, very quietly. "And a serpent egg."
"I know what they are. I don't know why they're on a tray."
"Hatched in your keeping, they would make Cindermark the first realm in four hundred years with all its old bloodlines at peace," said the Dean, who had appeared without anyone seeing her come in.
"And the third one?"
"What third one?"
A crack ran down the middle of the table.
The cloth shifted.
From under the tablecloth, where it had apparently been all along, crawled something small and shining.
It was gold from nose to tail, the size of a large cat, with damp little wings folded on its back and two bright, offended eyes.
It stared at the room.
Then it climbed onto the Dean's cushion, turned around once, and fell asleep.
"A dragon," said Harry.
"A golden dragon," said Felix. "Oh, no. Oh, he's so good."
"Do not name it," said Grant.
"Too late."
"It's a Level Nine."
"It's a Level Zero. It's nine inches long."
James reached out one finger.
The dragon opened one eye, sniffed, and licked him once.
White letters rose above the cushion.
SYSTEM: Reward summary. Phoenix egg: delivered. Serpent egg: delivered. Golden dragon: delivered.
SYSTEM: Ache Transfer for this reward has been billed to: no one.
"No one?" said James.
SYSTEM: Some things are simply free! Enjoy.
James sat back, and looked around the table.
Three men, one dragon, one very tired Dean, a pie.
"I'd like to make the first decree," he said.
"Now?" said the herald, appearing from nowhere with a quill.
"Right now. I'm warm. I'm fed. I'm well rested. I have a dragon. Bring me paper."
"The official parchment..."
"I have paper."
From inside his coat he drew a flat, scorched, folded thing, the remains of a kite.
Four share transfers, creased and singed, still with Bella's honey-colored seal in the corner.
He smoothed one flat on the table, turned it over, and held out his hand for the quill.
On the blank back he wrote, in large, careful, lazy letters:
BY ORDER OF THE KING. EVERY SUBJECT OF CINDERMARK IS ENTITLED TO ONE HOUR OF REST EACH DAY, AFTER THE MIDDAY MEAL. THIS IS THE LAW. NO ONE MAY BE WOKEN.
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