A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania 2)

“I don’t… only run… for gravy,” Pete gasped out.

“Mostly,” the King said. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”

Pete glared at him, but it only lasted a second. His gaze darted around until it settled on me, as I feared it would. Whatever had caused him to rush out here had to do with me. As if today couldn’t get any worse.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” I said, trying to be as preemptive as possible.

At least five people snorted at that. Which was okay, because that meant there were five fewer people I had to buy birthday presents for. Those assholes.

“There’s… a gathering,” Pete said. “In front of the castle gates.”

“A gathering,” the King repeated. “And what type of gathering had you running like you were on fire?”

Pete winced. “A protest.”

Justin frowned. “A protest? What in the name of the gods could they be protesting? No new legislation has been announced, and the Crown’s latest poll numbers have been higher than they have in years.”

“Yes, um. See? About that.” Pete swallowed. “They’re not protesting the Crown.”

“Out with it,” Morgan said. “We don’t have time for—”

“Sam,” Pete blurted. “They’re protesting Sam.”

Everyone turned slowly to stare at me.

“Uh,” I said. “What?”

“Oh snap,” Gary said. “Does this latest twist signal the end of our adorable yet whiny hero? Will we finally get to the point of this prophecy? Will Vadoma finally tell me where she gets her hair done, because girl, I want to avoid that place like the plague? And will the most handsome unicorn in all the land get laid?”

“Yes,” Kevin said. “Yes, he will.”

“Find out coming up next on… Castle Lockes. Annnnd… we’re clear. Hold up. Who are these bitches that think they can protest my babycakes? I will bring the pain down upon some motherfuckers, don’t think I won’t! Kevin! Hold me back. Hold me back!”

Kevin reached down and did just that.

“Godsdammit,” I muttered.

I HAD done many stupid things in my life.

That was an indisputable fact.

(Even if I could say most times that I was coerced by my companions.)

I could own up to my mistakes. If I did something wrong, I could

admit to it. And then I’d try and fix it to the best of my ability. Sometimes I could. Sometimes I made things worse. But my heart was always in the right place, and I never tried to let anyone else take the blame for something I did. Not when it counted.

But for the life of me, I could not understand why dozens of people would be marching in a circle in front of Castle Lockes, all wearing coarse-looking shirts that had my face drawn on them with a bright red X slashed through it, carrying signs that said such fun things as: SAM OF WILDS IS A HORRIBLE PERSON! and SAM OF WILDS PUNCHES BABIES and SAM TRIED TO TAKE MY VIRGINITY AGAINST MY WILL.

“You tried to take what?” Ryan asked.

“I didn’t!” I sputtered. “I don’t even know who that is!”

And I really didn’t. I didn’t recognize any of them marching in the circle, shouting, “Hey, hey, ho, ho, Sam of Wilds has got to go! Hey, hey, hi, hi, we would like to see him die!”

“Well that’s just rude,” Mom said.

“And maybe a little uncalled-for,” Dad said with a frown. “Unless he did punch babies and we didn’t know about it. If that’s the case, then I should be marching with them.”