Everyone marveled at how skilled the young Dynast was… though, as always, the family whispered of his older brother with wistful sighs hidden behind eloquent praise.

“I thought Hijete recited A Lover Beckons To Spring wonderfully of course,” his mother said. “How could he not? He is gifted by the Fire Dragon, after all. Yet Esen’s rendition of Hail To Thee, Conquering Empress!? Who can forget it? I still have Senator Poramo after me, hoping to tutor the boy personally.”

He heard the long, awkward pause, and felt his mother’s gaze fall heavily upon him.

“Still, a Fire Aspect. Dragons know that in this time of discord, we could certainly use more loyal Princes of the Earth, as my son will no doubt become…

I just wish he was more like his brother…”

Ledaal Hijete smiled at his mother, dumbly, pretending not to hear the scorn, to not feel the familiar rising of hate in his chest, and nodded.

“Let the Dragons will it, mother,” he replied, as he always did.

He glanced across the room at his brother.