"Good evening, Mother," Javan said, bowing low. He waited patiently for her to call him forward, as was custom. Queen Korah's tawny scales glittered in the light of Alta-Drakeo's twin moons and she smiled. Then she copied his pose, sweeping her wings wide with a majestic grace that only a queen can possess.

"You are most welcome here, dear son."

Javan rose and moved forward to take his place at her side. Korah sat up on her haunches and put a wing around Javan's shoulders.

"I am here to ask a request of you," Javan said.

Korah smiled. "You never were one to make small talk, son."

Javan smiled back at her. "I plan to ask Keriath to marry me. Will you give us your sanction?"

"Keriath is a fine young dragoness. You have my blessing."

Javan bowed his head. "Thank you."

"However, that is not the only reason you have come."

"You know me well, Mother."

"As I should."

Javan's spiny brow furrowed. "I am concerned on Zhar's behalf. He has grown brash and, dare I say it, cruel. I have seen the way he treats those under his command. Royal and those from the Wing alike."

Korah kept her face expressionless. "And you are worried for his soldiers."

It was not a question. "Yes. And I am concerned for all of the kingdom. He is our future king."

Korah sighed. "I know you are not one to hearsay. I shall take what you have said into consideration. However, you must respect whatever decision I make."

"Of course," Javan replied respectfully, scraping his talons in the grass on the canyon ledge.

She smiled again. "You are wise and noble, my son. I am proud of you."

He could not stop the delight that showed on his face. He had always needed to know his parents approved of him. It was a burning desire inside him to make them proud. That's why Father and I have not had a…perfect relationship. He's so serious and hardcore; he never has time for me. Javan leaned in closer to Korah, remembering how he used to curl up under her wing when he was a dragonet. He sighed, and looked up into the brilliance of the night sky.