CHAPTER 103: THE MISSING MOMENT

Riley’s expression must have betrayed him, because now both men were staring at him with sharp, questioning gazes.

Great. Perfect. Just what he needed. A dragon lord’s scrutiny on one side and his father’s expectant eyes on the other.

But Riley couldn’t exactly blurt out his hot take on the declining dragon population in front of his ex-confidant father and Kael, the actual Dragon Lord, could he? That was suicide.

Arrogance.

That was it. In Riley’s opinion, it was arrogance that had caused most of their problems—and would continue to.

Sure, dragons liked other dragons better than anyone else, but even among themselves, they were hopelessly individualistic. "I’ll do what I want" seemed to be the default dragon motto.

Worse, because nothing could topple them easily, they thought vigilance was unnecessary. Eternal life? Check. Gigantic strength? Check. A collective sense of caution? Absolutely not.

At least Kael was investigating matters. Points for effort. But Kael wasn’t involving anyone else in his plans. Not other dragons. Not elders. Humans. Humans. Out of all beings, he was dragging humans into it.

Although in Kael’s case, Riley wasn’t sure it was arrogance. It felt more like a monumental sense of distrust. The man didn’t even trust his own kind. And because of that, dragons like Lord Karion—who seemed personable enough—just made the rest of the elders even more arrogant by contrast.

And those elders? Not better than the fishy-smelling Chancellor. They just weren’t as subtle about their elitism, manipulation, and short tempers.

So what about this Chancellor, whose entire job was to watch over dragonlings? And yet he couldn’t do it? Runaways, disappearances—chalked up as disgraceful stains instead of actual emergencies?

If something like that happened to humans, someone would be held accountable. There would be names. Consequences.

People would at the very least go to jail for something considered heinous. But for dragons? The "infallible, mighty dragons"? It became a matter of shame instead.

What kind of brainwashing did they all go through to actually believe such bullshit?

Since when did kids become shameful for running away from home? Shouldn’t the guardians be the shameful ones?

Riley’s face soured more by the second, until Kael’s brow lifted, silently prodding him to say what was on his mind.

Nope. Not yet. He’d save the full ham roast for later. For now, there was something else he wanted to get out before his mother came back into the room.

"Dad," Riley asked, shifting gears, "during the ceremony, was there a time when any of the attending elders weren’t present?"

"Hmm..." Lawrence tapped his chin, eyes narrowing as he tried to recall. Clearly, he understood the line of questioning. If this were about the elders, he wanted to recall every relevant detail. Maybe he would be of help at least in this way.

Oh.

Well, there was one.

A lot of things weren’t as clear to him since that incident, but Lawrence thought it was difficult to forget the look on the elder’s face. That was why he remembered what happened, and maybe if they were to check the footage of the ceremony, they’d be able to see it too.

"Essentially, they were all there," Lawrence said slowly, "but Elder Ysvara stepped out for a moment after informing Lord Karion."

The memory unfolded sharply in his mind.

It had been so out of the blue that he barely processed it. She had brushed past him, forcing him to move aside. The elder—normally composed, untouchable—trembled as she asked to be excused. Her voice had cracked, the words rushed, desperate.

Lord Karion, seated in his quiet authority, had looked startled for the briefest of moments. He had even asked if she wanted assistance, then signaled toward Lawrence, his aide at the time, to follow. But before he could so much as take a step, she bolted. Robes swishing, steps hurried, eyes wide and unfocused.

He would see her again later, seated back among the others. Her face, however, was blank. Void of emotion. No trembling, no unease, nothing. It was as though the earlier moment had never existed.

The shift had been unsettling enough that it lodged itself permanently in Lawrence’s memory.

"By any chance, would you know why she stepped out, Dad?" Riley asked carefully.

"No," Lawrence admitted. "But Lord Karion allowed it. She eventually returned. But because I’m unsure when she did, I’d rather not point out a time."

Riley nodded, a trace of respect flickering in his eyes. He understood. Maybe that was really how his father had managed to survive all these years.

It was better to admit uncertainty than to claim certainty.

Maybe that was what set humans apart. Other beings always sounded so sure whenever they gave their testimonies. Meanwhile, humans covered their behinds by calling things hearsay—even when they had seen it with their own eyes.

Riley was about to say that if his father remembered anything else, he hoped he could pass it along to them. But before he could finish, Lawrence suddenly asked, "Son, what about you? Are you okay? Are you safe?"

The son froze, momentarily shocked.

Apparently, that was even more shocking to him than if someone had stood up and casually declared that Chancellor Malrik was part merfolk.

Kael, who had been watching intently since earlier, caught the shift instantly. His aide’s face—always expressive, always betraying him—suddenly looked like it was on the verge of cracking.

Why was his aide always crying?

And why did he look like one more poke would shatter him completely? Again.

If there was an issue, why not just get rid of it? That was how Kael solved problems. Simple. Efficient. But he also knew that the only other person in the room was Lawrence Hale—Riley’s father. And it didn’t seem appropriate to... deal with him.

Still, Riley didn’t answer. His brows furrowed deeper, like a storm cloud gathering on his face.

The tension swelled—until a knock on the door cut through it.

"It’s me."

The voice was familiar, grounding.

Riley blinked, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts, and called back, "Come in, Mom."

The door opened, and Renee Hale stepped inside.

"Oh, did I interrupt something? I could just come back later," Renee said, only half of her body through the door.

But as if terrified that his shield might retreat, Riley immediately asked, "Oh no, Mom. Instead, how are the kids?"

She blinked. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, Mom. We weren’t really talking about anything important," Riley replied with a smile, all that threatening eye sweat pulled back into hiding as if it had never existed.

"If you say so... Well, the two of them are playing as expected. I told them not to stay up too late, but Lord Orien requested if they could stay in the drawing room. Liam seems to have told him about sleepovers, and now they’re determined to have one." Her smile was the exasperated kind only mothers knew, the kind that said I lost, but I’ll allow it because they’re happy and it’s someone’s special day.

"Apparently, there is much work to be done based on the guide you’ve given them," she added with a soft chuckle, recalling the way the two had stumbled over their words when asking for permission. With such desperate, wide, and innocent eyes, how could she immediately say no? But still, she’d insisted she ask the dragon lord first. After all, they were only guests at this estate.

"So I was hoping to ask the Dragon Lord if it’s okay to agree to their request?" Normally, she would’ve been terrified to ask something like this, but after seeing more of the dragon lord, she didn’t think it was something that would get her killed.

In fact, not asking would likely be worse. Because what would she do if Lord Orien decided to take matters into his own hands?

Also, for someone who would allow Riley’s curtness, maybe it wasn’t as bad as the others?

Suddenly, all eyes turned to Kael.

The dragon lord had been sitting in silence, observing from his seat like some golden statue, but now the weight of those fervent looks pinned him.

Obviously, he should’ve said no, because wasn’t that just bothersome, but these humans had a way of looking at people that was rather unsettling.

And he really didn’t want that gaze following him around. So it was better to think about his well-being. And besides, if this meant silence and less chewing later, so much the better.

"It’s fine," he said shortly. Establishing a ward was much easier than dealing with any other living creature. He would just ward the whole place down if necessary.

Renee smiled, thanked him warmly, and then hurried out to deliver the news to the waiting children.

It was just then that Riley began to rise, muttering under his breath, "I’ll go and stay with them so they have a guard."

He was halfway to bolting when a voice cut him off.

"No. Not you. We have other business we need to take care of."

Riley stopped dead. "Huh? Me?"

Kael’s golden gaze didn’t waver. "Important business."

"Important business?" Riley echoed, scandalized.

"Yes."

Riley’s mind screeched. What kind of important business was this? And how could he not be aware of it?

Well... apparently because it was one hell of a monkey business.