Time in the Aurelian Dukedom didn't just pass; it compounded.
Months bled into a blur of construction, mana-forging, and the relentless expansion of Dorian's empire. The City of Hope was no longer a project; it was a breathing, smoking industrial titan.
The City of Dragons roared with the training of wyverns and men alike.
Dorian sat at the head of his table, his fingers drumming a rhythmic beat on the mahogany surface. Life had settled into a routine of profitable chaos. His parents, Stella and James, had taken over the mundane administrative tasks, guarding the treasury like dragons hoarding gold. It freed him up to focus on the bigger picture.
And the bigger picture involved two very pregnant, very dangerous women.
Maria's stomach was barely showing. Despite being months along, she looked like she'd just had a large lunch.
