Belinda stepped out of the vehicle and stared.
"Of course," she muttered. "Dragon Lord lives in a building with evil billionaire energy."
"That tracks," Cindy whispered. "It's kind of sexy."
Belinda turned. "Cindy, I'm scared, not blind."
I did not know why that pleased me and it should not have. I brought them through the lower hall where my guards knelt so fast their armor struck stone. Belinda flinched at the sound, then pretended she had not. The ring glowed once, a small pulse of gold around her finger. Every dragon in the hall saw it. Every dragon understood. Their queen had arrived.
"Prepare the east rooms," I ordered. "Human food, human water, no dragon wine, no raw meat. No one enters without her permission."
Belinda blinked. "Wait, you know about permission?"
The guard stared straight ahead. I looked down at her. "I am not ignorant."
She opened her mouth. Derek coughed. Cindy suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.
Belinda said, "I'm going to let that one pass because I'm running on stress and no coffee."
"To the kitchen," I told the nearest guard. "Bring coffee."
"How much, my lord?"
I glanced at Belinda.
She said, "Enough to keep me from committing crimes."
"Bring a great deal," I said.
Her mouth twitched. It vanished quickly, but I saw it. I wanted to see it again. That too was a problem.
Julius met me before I entered the council chamber. He was older than most living dragons, lean and silver-eyed with ink stains on his fingers and scars across his throat from three trials of law by flame. He bowed, then looked over my shoulder toward the corridor where Belinda had been taken.
"So," he said, "the rumors are accurate."
"Which rumors?"
"That you purchased a wedding cake from a human bakery and accidentally acquired a queen."
My fire stirred. Julius did not move. Wise old bastard. He knew exactly how close to disrespect he could walk without losing skin.
"I did not accidentally acquire anything," I said.
"No? Then you intended this?"
I said nothing.
His mouth tightened, which for Julius was laughter.
"The court is waiting," he said, "and Sheba arrived before dawn."
Of course she had.
The council chamber had been built for bodies larger than human imagination. The ceiling arched into darkness. Brass chains hung from stone beams. Fire burned in channels across the floor, blue and gold, dividing the seats of the clans. Above us through a circular opening, the morning sky showed a wheel of circling wings.
Every voice died when I entered. Respect was not love. Respect was knowing I could burn every dragon in that chamber and still have enough fire left to light my way home. The council bowed. All except Sheba.
She stood near the central flame, dressed in red silk and black scales. Her hair braided high with rubies threaded through it. Beautiful, yes. A blade was beautiful, too, until it opened your belly.
"My lord," she said loud enough for every clan to hear. "Tell us this insult is not true."
I walked to my seat and did not sit. "Choose your next words carefully."
Her eyes flashed. "You cannot mean to honor a human's ignorant acceptance."
"She did not know what she was doing."
"She accepted my gold. She accepted payment for flour and sugar. She accepted true hoard gold over oath food with spoken words."
The council murmured.
Julius stepped to the side, expression grave. "By old law, the claim stands."
Sheba's nostrils flared. "Old law also requires worth, blood, fire, strength. What does she have? A failing shop, human debt, a mouth too bold for her own safety?"
My fingers curled. The gold channels in the floor turned white. Several council members shifted back. Sheba saw the change and swallowed, but pride kept her spine straight. I admired pride in enemies. It made their breaking cleaner.
"She has my ring," I said. "She has a mistake on her finger."
I moved, not far, not fast enough for theater. Only one step. The chamber shook anyway. Sheba went silent.
"You have told clans I favored you," I said. "You have accepted gifts in my name. You have sat beside my empty chair during feasts and let fools believe you warmed my bed."
Her face tightened. The chamber went very still.
"I corrected no one because your lies did not matter," I continued. "Now they end."
"My clan expected I did not. You need a queen who understands dragon law."
"I have advisers for law."
"You need a woman who understands your fire. My fire is not yours to understand." Her eyes shone with rage. "And your bed—does the human understand that? Or will you teach her like some frightened little pet?"
My fire rose so violently that the stone beneath her feet cracked.
"Speak of my bride as lesser again," I said softly, "and I will hang your tongue over my gates."
This time she bowed. It was not obedience, it was hatred wearing manners.
The eldest counselor cleared his throat. "My lord, the issue is not only Sheba's disappointment."
Sheba's mouth twisted, but she stayed silent.
"The attack by Kieran of the red throat was not random," the elder continued. "He moved before formal challenge because all clans know the claim is incomplete."
I looked at Julius. He nodded once. "The acceptance is binding, but the final oath has not been sealed before the first flame. Until then, if Belinda dies, the claim breaks."
The chamber seemed to lean toward me. There it was, the shape of the trap. Belinda alive gave me legitimacy no council could deny. Belinda dead gave my enemies accusation, weakness, and blood right to challenge my throne. A human woman with buttercream on her sleeve had become the hinge on which my reign could swing.
I should have been furious at her. I was furious at everyone else.