The next morning in RedShire was chaotic. Footfalls echoed down the hallways as the kingdom's elders paced in worry. Brows drawn together, fingers perched between their teeth. Never had something like this happened in the kingdom. Not until that girl, whoever she was, arrived.

“What should we do? Old Gael has refused to speak with any of us,” one of the older men spoke up, his fingers forming a fist. “A dragon appearing in RedShire was tolerable, more coming is not! How do we tell the people?” He hooted like a wounded animal.

Vlad who was quietly watching the scenes unfold quietly took his leave. He had warned the king...