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Jarrod darted a glance between me and my three princes. I knew he had a lot of questions, but it wasn’t his place to ask the realm’s princess. I was still the heir to the crown.
“This is Prince Rai, Prince Iokul, and Prince Blaze,” I said.
“I know, they’re the princes from the Oslan Dominion,” Jarrod said, bowing to each in turn.
“They’re my mates,” I added. “The rest of our companions are my mates’ warriors.”
Jarrod tried not to widen his eyes at my casual mentioning of three mates, but he couldn’t stop his irises expanding. “Consor—Your Highnesses, welcome to the Dragon Realm.”
I sighed inwardly. I’d gotten used to having all three brave, gorgeous princes as my mates, in fact, I reveled and loved every minute of having them, but the realm would need time to get used to it.
However, there was no kingdom without people.
“Everyone fled after KingDaghda went crazy and half-destroyed his own palace and the castle,” Jarrod said grimly.
I had suspected that the demolition might be my grandfather’s imprint. The castle was magically warded, and only the royal dragons—my grandfather and I—could do great damage.
A huff of breath left me.“So, our people live. There are survivors?”
Jarrod nodded. “Most of them survived.”
“Where is the king now?” I asked.
“He left,” Jarrod said. “I haven’t seen him ever since. His elite guards departed with him. It was like a dragon exodus. They might have gone to the mountains.”
I looked up at the distant ring of the snow-capped mountains.
Dragons usually went to the mountains to wait for the Fade.
“Last we saw, KingDaghdawas still sound,” Rai said thoughtfully. “Though he was difficult and vicious.”
“He turned mad two weeks ago,” Jarrod said.
I swallowed. The day I broke the curse. I wondered if there was any connection to it.
I continued on the stairs, wanting to see the overall damage, my mind reeling.
The scouts went ahead of me. Henry, my two-headed, black hellhound went with them. He was eager for a new adventure, and to my delight, he had behaved incredibly well during this trip and hadn’t been mean overall. I believed it had to do with the dragon shifters feeding him well.
Sybil, a flying lizard with an owl’s face and white wings, chirped and flew ahead, but returned to perch on Iokul’s armored shoulder, preferring him among all of my mates, because his ice cooled her.
My mates lounged around me, their shields in one hand; their swords in the other. Jarrod stayed at the front of our formation, serving as a guide, and at the same time answered humbly whatever questions the princes threw at him.
Now and then, he’d look back at me over his shoulder, as if wanting to convince himself that I was truly back. That small gesture offered me some comfort—the realm might still need me, especially after my grandfather’s destructive action.
As we made our way up the castle, I saw most of the windows were shattered, the doors and walls charred. Those could all be fixed and replaced. The worst damage, however, wasn’t inside the castle. The plants, trees, and grass were all singed and burnt beyond simple repair.
“It’ll take a few weeks to fix all of this, before we can move our people back in,” I said.
Jarrod hesitated, worries creasing his brows.
“If KingDaghda returns and has a problem with that, I’ll take care of him,” I said. “He won’t cause any more trouble.”
“It’s not that,” Jarrod said. “An elite guard, a former friend of mine, told me that His Majesty was hexed. There’s a dark force dwelling in the palace.”
Alarm flashed across the princes’ faces.
“Have you checked it?” Iokul asked.
