Five days of negotiating peace terms was starting to get to the both of them. The ceremonial weapons of every man and woman present were piled in the middle of the table—long and short knives, elegantly carved maces, gleaming scythes—laid out of reach as a show of trust. Only three chairs sat empty.

You stared at the empty chair on the left, imagining the young man who normally sat there. Strong shoulders. Wheat-gold eyes. Dark brown hair pulled back from his handsome face.

Theo, heir to the throne of sky. Your former betrothed. The silent conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone snoring.

Your eyes looked sharply away from the empty chair, to the young man seated beside you. The warm afternoon sunlight pooled in through the windows, alighting on his unruly brown curls. His elbow was propped up on the table, his cheek rested on his fist, and those long black lashes fluttered softly against his cheeks.

This was the dragon king. Asleep in an important treaty meeting.