Chapter 447: Try It. DING. Sorry. Last One. DING.

A table-banger, queen-arrester, dragon-jailer was standing in front of three men who wanted him dead.

What did he do?

He closed his eyes for one exhausted second. A classic ’what the fuck is it now’ expression that transcended species.

"I would like an apology. You put an innocent man, myself, behind bars and have not so much as even tried to make it right," Kael began, his tone dignified and chin lifted. "The sacred sharing—"

Maddox’s voice steamrolled over it.

"First you stormed into my wife’s chambers. Then you stormed into my throne room and arrested my wife, an innocent woman, who was forced to go with you because we did not have the means to deal with a criminal, so that was your trade. I highly doubt Landon Solveil is aware his Commander of the Kingsguard refused to take a criminal Noxari unless my wife went with him—"

Nicholas started firing off his issues too, his voice thundering over the first two. "You trailed her and I, and one of your men held a blade to my throat. You are lucky I did not see that as a declaration of war—"

Three grown men were talking at the same time to Commander Veyron, whose face was a masterpiece of trained neutrality. His posture did not shift. He had stood in front of war criminals, a dragon, and an Alpha and none of them came close to what Guinevere Lunaris had put him through in the last eight hours.

He drew in a single breath through his nose, held it for the length of a thought, and released it with the calm of a man who had already made peace with the next sentence.

"Best of luck to you all. I retired this morning."

The sentence was a door closing and a badge dropping wrapped in a middle finger. All three stopped talking, their speeches crashing into retirement with Veyron.

Veyron stepped around them and continued on his way without looking back.

He rounded the far corner and was gone. The only evidence that Commander Veyron had ever existed in that hallway was the faint echo of boots on glowing stone and the stunned silence of two kings and a young dragon who had just been dismissed.

The corridor was quiet.

Brennan bounced his ball once. DING. The sound it made in the silence was a doorbell at a house where everyone just died.

"Well. That was anticlimactic."

Kael’s mouth was hanging open and his finger was raised, like he had been paused mid-sentence by a god with a remote.

Ryker gently shut Kael’s mouth with two fingers and turned to the group. "Show of hands. Who had ’Veyron retires mid-argument and power-walks away’ on their list of possible outcomes tonight?"

No hands went up. The only thing raised was Kael’s finger, which had been raised before the question.

Maddox and Nicholas both shook their heads once and blinked in perfect synchronization.

Brennan watched two men who hated each other move in perfect sync and tilted his head the way a dog does when something stops making sense.

"They just—"

Ryker cut him off. "Yes. They just."

Maddox and Nicholas exchanged a loaded look.

"We’re not done with him," Maddox grunted.

"No," Nicholas agreed. "When this is over and she’s home, he answers for every second of what he put her through."

"Every goddamn second."

An alliance had formed over Kael’s head, both literally and figuratively, from two men who couldn’t share a woman without growling and were now sharing a grudge like it was a bottle of wine that neither of them had offered to the man who actually needed a glass. Selfish.

That did it.

Maddox and Nicholas agreeing without consulting him pressed the reset button on the young dragon.

"Retired. Absolute bitch move." Kael’s arms went so wide his cloak flared, giving the corridor the full dramatic wingspan. "I had a speech! Arc. Callbacks. Through-line."

He turned in a slow circle as he spoke, addressing an audience that consisted of stone walls, a mage with a ball, and the gods were still watching this particular channel.

"He retired before any of the sacred sharing could begin."

Kael stopped mid-spin, facing the corner Veyron had disappeared behind.

"That man stole it, Maddox. I went to PRISON and he stole my MOMENT. Re—" CLAP. "—tired." CLAP. "Maddox." CLAP. CLAP.

Maddox didn’t spare Kael a glance. "I was there, Kael."

"I had visual aids, Maddox. I was going to recreate the banging but on my chest. But what did he do? He pulled the tablecloth off the table and walked out of the goddamn restaurant. There is no table left to bang. The table is GONE. The man took the table WITH him."

Ryker raised an imaginary drink. "To Table Banger. Gone but never forgotten."

Sterling raised his hand in solemn acknowledgment, and the ball in his trousers shifted and his crotch pulsed violet with the comedic timing of a universe that had decided this man’s dignity was a renewable resource it could harvest indefinitely.

Roger was the only person who saw it and his professionalism was currently standing between Sterling and a story that would follow him across continents and to the afterlife.

DING.

"Brennan," Ryker said without looking at him.

"Yes?"

"Read the room."

"I did. Beautiful stone. Excellent acoustics. The ball sounds even better in here than it did outside. Listen." DING.

"Stop bouncing the ball, Brennan."

"Try it." DING.

"BRENNAN."

DING. "Sorry. Last one." DING. "Okay that was the last one."

Roger cleared his throat gently. Every head turned to him.

"Her Majesty is this way," he stated, turning on his heel.

Six men and a bouncing ball followed a prison guard toward a queen. Somewhere between step one and step five, Kael finished grieving his speech and started building its sequel.

"Alright, new plan," Kael announced as they walked. "We get Guinevere. We go home. We write the speech down. We come back. We find Veyron at his house. We make him sit in a chair. We deliver all three speeches. In order. With a Q and A at the end."

"I’d get in on that," Maddox and Nicholas said at the same time.

"Stop doing that," Kael snapped.