The Dragon King's Substitute Bride

"He'll change his mind!"

I ignored the wailing. It was a lie, and we both knew it.

It had been hundreds of years since the dragon king had been taking humans for the Trial of Fire. She was putting on a show at this point. I looked up as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and closed my eyes. My brother was too young to do much, even if he got out of his coma. My father was dead, and his widow was useless.

I would have to make a plan forward to make sure my brother would survive the mess his mother had made. I glared at her, glanced at the grave, and turned away.

Tomorrow, I would be dead, but my brother had a chance to be the next head of the family if I could keep Goro from finishing what he started.

Goro…

Dad should have kicked him from the family years ago, but he had always been more loyal to the snakes in his family than they deserved. I walked into the house, leaving the sliding door open that led outside open.

"Where are you going?" She sniffled, following me. "Your father--"

"Is dead, and now I have to keep my brother alive. I want this done with before dawn."

"Done with?" She jumped up, flushed with anger. "How could you say that? Your father's dead! Your brother... my baby--"

Aren't I your daughter? I smiled wryly at the thought. No. I guess I never had been.

She let out another sob. "It should have been you."

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the confirmation.”

I wasn't dumb. The way she'd looked at me when she'd come into my room mere minutes after Dad had left with my brother had told me everything.

She knew what Goro’s plan was.

Stupid.

She was so stupid, but I wasn’t going to let her kill my brother, too. A servant muttered something hateful about the water she dripped on the floor, but I didn't care. I opened door after door until she found Goro, my uncle, seated in the main dining hall, dressed in solemn black. The rest of the family was seated in rows, all facing him as the new head. No one ate, but it was clear that Goro was about to start announcing how things were going to be.

I ground my teeth. My father’s body hadn’t even been in the ground more than a few hours and he was already taking over. Goro lifted his head and looked at me, meeting my gaze. There was no remorse in his eyes, of course not. The medallion that my dad had worn since becoming head of the family hung from around his neck.

He probably couldn’t wait to take from Dad’s neck.

The bastard...

I walked down the central aisle, breathing deeply and focusing on what had to be done. My anger, the injustice of it all would have to wait.

I had to do this…

An aunt tried to grab me. "You can't just--"

"Quiet," Goro said, looking at me. "If you're here to change my mind--"

"I wouldn't waste my breath." I came to a stop in front of him. "I'm here to talk to you: head to heir adjacent."

His eyes widened. "You have a lot of--"

"My father is dead." Goro shut his mouth. "My brother is in a coma. I am the eldest, his living flesh and blood. I am the new head of the family, and with a word, you'll be prosecuted for violating imperial will with this stunt, and your daughter will be in the caravan when it arrives in a few hours."

Goro's eyes widened. I held his gaze.

"Are you going to speak to me privately--civilly--or should I not bother? How lucky do you think your daughter is?” I cocked my eyebrow even as my stomach turned. “Your call."

He grit his teeth, baring them briefly. He looked behind me and nodded stiffly.

"Leave us," he said. My father’s widow turned to follow the rest of the family.

"Not you," I said, glaring at her. "You have no right to leave."

She whimpered and settled down beside him. The sight of them together turned my stomach. The rest of the family shuffled around and left. The door slid closed behind them. Silence filled the room.

Goro lifted his head. “You must think I'm being unfair.”

I blinked. “I think you're being strategic.”

His eyes widened.

“And I think we should come to an agreement,” I said. “After all, your daughter was summoned, not me. The palace won’t be happy about you trying to pull one over on them.”

Goro narrowed his eyes. “They documents don’t–”

“Oh, I know. All the documents state is an age, and it’s never the child of the current head. That’s why you did all of this.” I approached him, glaring at him. “You’d do anything for your daughter.” I looked at my father’s widow. “And your lover.”

I tilted my head and gave Goro a cold smile as I took a seat.

"Dad's last-minute change of heart... really threw a wrench in your plans, hm?”

Goro clenched his jaw but said nothing. I heard sniffling, but I didn’t look at her.

“Let's cut to the chase, time is running out. I’ll go quietly, step down, in exchange, you get my brother the best doctors.” I set my jaw. “Even if he never wakes up, he’d better die comfortably.”

“And why should I listen to–”

I reached into her pocket, pulled out a solid gold coin, and tossed it in front of him. It was an old form of currency that was only used in the most expensive sections of the empire. Most of the lower-class families had already melted down their coins for jewelry, but my father and his father had always been against it, stating that when the gates between the human and the dragon realm opened again, we’d need it. Goro would melt it all down to elevate the family’s status among the lower class or sell it to the highest bidder of the upper class.

Goro watched the coin roll and come to a stop before lifting his gaze. “That's theft.”

“I'm the head. It's a withdrawal." I smiled. “And between me and you, there are only two people alive who know where the vaults are.”

I held up a finger. “And when I leave, the other is just breathing.”

“You’ll just go?” Goro asked.

“I hate your daughter. She’s a selfish, spoiled brat,” I glanced at his accomplice. “Even if she is my sister. My brother is something different.”

Goro went stiff. The two looked at each other.

“Do we have a deal?” He narrowed his eyes. I glanced at the medallion. "Once I'm dead, the medallion will work for you…. And you all can be a happy little family."

I didn’t wait for him to say anything. I could hear the caravan arriving, and as I headed to the front of the house, thinking of all the women who had been taken before me and knew that no one in this family would cry for me, even when they brought back the charred bodies.

I opened the door as the attendants stepped out of the caravan and approached.

“My name is Morgan,” I said softly. “I’m nineteen years old, and I am answering the conscription for the Trial of Fire.”