He stared at his chancellor, but Ellik’s eyes remained cast down. When he judged that the man was close to breaking, he snapped at him, “Answer!”

Ellik lifted his eyes, and the Duke saw the fury contained behind his subservient gray gaze. They had ridden together too long, fought side by side too often for them to be completely successful at concealing their thoughts from each other. Ellik knew the Duke’s every ploy. Once he had played to them. But now his sword hand was becoming weary of these games. The chancellor took a deep breath. “As of yet, there has been no word, my lord. But the visits of the dragons to the water have been irregular, and we have ordered our force to remain where they are until they are successful.”

“Well. At least we have not had word of their failure, yet.”

“No, glorious one. There is still hope.”

“Hope. You, perhaps, hope. I demand. Chancellor, do you hope that your name will survive you?”

A terrible stillness seized the man. His Duke knew his most vulnerable spot. “Yes, lord.” His words were a whisper.

“And you, you have not only an heir-son but a second son as well?”

The Duke was gratified when the man’s voice shook. “I am so blessed, yes, gracious one.”

“Mmm.” The Duke of Chalced tried to clear his throat but coughed instead, the sound triggering a scuttling of servants. A fresh bowl of chilled water was offered, as was a steaming cup of tea. A clean white cloth awaited in the hands of another knee-walking servant, while yet another offered a glass of wine.

A tiny flick of his hand dismissed them all. He drew a rasping breath.

“Two sons, Chancellor. And so you hope. But I have no son. And my health fails for lack of one small thing. A simple remedy of dragon’s blood is all I have asked. Yet it has not been brought to me. I wonder: Is it right that you have so much hope that your name will remain loud in the world’s ear, while mine will be silenced for that lack? Surely not.”