Prince Vincent had a smirk on his face. He was eager to carry out the plan but he had to bide his time. It was not yet time.

The crown prince kept the paper he was holding inside his pocket. The paper looked blank but it was actually the slave contract. The slave contract was concealed by magic to make it look like an ordinary paper. Anything can be written on it and it would not activate. It would only activate when a person writes his or her own name on it.

The contractor was the Queen as always but she had assigned Prince Vincent to carry out their plans. He wanted to make his mother proud.

The crown prince passed by his father's bedroom. He had the urge to visit his father. It had been a while since his last visit. He wanted to tell his father about their plans but mother forbade him. His mother said the King was too sick in the head already.

The crown prince went back and knocked on the door. There was no answer which he had already expected. Perhaps his father was sleeping.

Prince Vincent went in the bedroom. The strong smell of herbs filled his nose. He frowned at the state of the room. It was so dark and dreary.

His father's eyes were closed but he was mumbling incoherently. He must be having a dream.

Prince Vincent went closer to the bedside. He almost felt pity towards his father. The King's golden hair that used to be so beautiful had fallen out a lot, his skin was discolored, and there were blood splatters on his sheet. He wondered why no one had changed the sheets. Were the maids afraid of catching the King's disease?

It wasn't a disease though.

The King's eyes opened and looked straight at him. Prince Vincent was startled at the intensity of his father's gaze. He felt small and weak, almost like a child. This was the power of the King, even in his dying state.

"Why are you here?" King Raegan asked.

"I just came to see how you were doing, Father," the crown prince said, attempting to look concerned.

The King's eyes narrowed at him. "As you can see, I am not yet dead thus you are not yet the king."

Prince Vincent let out a hollow laugh. "You jest, Father dear. I truly just wanted to see you."

"You will never be the true king," King Raegan said, the gold in his eyes seemed to shimmer.

Prince Vincent smiled. "Mother is right. You are already too sick in the head. Father dear, I am your only heir. There's no one else who'll be the king when you die."

"You have not been acknowledged as the true king," King Raegan said with a satisfied grin.

Prince Vincent glared angrily at his father. "Even if you don't acknowledge me, I will still be the king and you will be too dead to stop me."

"It is not I who will acknowledge you, foolish boy. When the other heir is acknowledged, he will be the one to take the throne and the blood of the Gold Dragon will continue to live," the King said with apparent glee.

The King's golden eyes seemed to dance in golden flames.

*

*

*

The foolish boy left. King Raegan was alone again in his bedroom. He hated the boy as much as he hated the mother of the boy.

He balled up his fists. If only he was stronger. He could feel death creeping up on him, pulling at him, waiting for him to fall.

"Your flame is almost gone, Raegan."

The King closed his eyes. In his mind, he could see the Gold Dragon, so majestic, so magical. Its gold body shimmered and crackled like flames and sunlight.

"Have you met the next heir, my old friend?" Raegan asked in a loud voice. The Good Dragon was so enormous, Raegan was even smaller than the dragon's toe.

"I do not like your son, Raegan, even if you beg me he shall not have our power," the Gold Dragon said.

The Gold Dragon's voice was like thunder, majestic and impossible to not be heard.

"Not him, my old friend. The other one!" Raegan shouted.

"He does not seek me thus I have not come to him," the Gold Dragon said.

"He does not know! His father did not tell him, I am sure!" Raegan shouted.

"Then tell him before you turn to dust, Raegan," the Gold Dragon said.

"I can't! I cannot even get out of my bedroom! I am dying!" Raegan shouted.

"He will seek me when he needs our power. When that time comes, I will judge if he is rightful," the Gold Dragon said.

"I know he is! He would be a great king!" Raegan shouted.

The Gold Dragon looked at Raegan with eyes that seemed to convey sadness. "Perhaps you can let the Saintess heal you. She has already arrived in our world. Why did you not call her?"

"I am not afraid of death! Her power should not be used to me! It should be for the people of Aderlan!" Raegan shouted.

The Gold Dragon lowered itself, it leaned down towards Raegan and gently rubbed its head at him.

"I am sorry I have not been up to your expectations," Raegan said sadly.

He raised his arms to caress the Gold Dragon's scales.

"Tell the next heir to greet Sylvia for me. I do miss her terribly," Raegan said with a sad smile.

"When her time comes, you will see her again," the Gold Dragon said. Its voice was no longer like thunder, but like the gentle rain falling in the night, lulling him to sleep.

"Sleep warmly, Raegan," the Gold Dragon said.

The Gold Dragon disappeared, leaving only a flame on the dark ground. Raegan knelt down and tried to protect the flame from going out but the flame got smaller and smaller until there was nothing but darkness and a small trace of warmth.

*

*

*

The king died in his sleep. His body would still be warm for days.