Diarabeth gasped quietly. "I can't believe this! They want to replace me as rightful heir?" She whispered as she clutched her fingernails tighter against the palms of her hands.

The voice continued, "We feel that Dragoliam will make a better heir and ruler. Diarabeth may be a powerful dragonlet, but the people will revolt if she takes power. The council will not support anything less than your acquiescence."

She heard her father speak next, irritation clear in his voice. "Lord Teleran, You expect me to go against tradition and make my second child the rightful heir? Since the great king, all firstborns have been heirs. Just because my firstborn was a daughter, does not mean a thing. You can't ask me to do this. It's not right. It's the goddess' will, and it's not fair to Diarabeth or to Dragoliam!"

Diarabeth smiled. Her father was on her side. She was glad. She had expected him to agree with them right away.

Lord Teleran, whom she knew was a representative of the warrior caste and whose home lie on the edge of Telpethyn near Zorendil, retorted, "And what about what's fair to your people? We are on the brink of war with Oshkar once again! The Elves would crush us in an instant if she were allowed to take the throne. Is it fair to your subjects to suffer because of her? She could never rule as a male could. My dear king, you must accept this, or else. You may be king, but we are in charge. Without our support, you will never be able to accomplish anything."

She heard a sigh and her father agreed to at least think about it. She could not believe it. He was taking their side! She clenched her hands together in anger and stormed off to her brother's room. She didn't care if she was late for her lessons. She would not be denied her rightful place as the heir!

She entered her brother's room, not entirely sure what to expect. She saw her brother, standing by the window, staring off into the countryside.

"Drago." She uttered flatly, tears brimming, but held back.

He turned to look at her, his face expressionless. "Arabeth. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

She felt the fury burn inside. It raged against her skin, itching to be let out. What was it about him? This weakling that everyone wanted to be heir instead of her? Why him? Why did it have to be this way? What was wrong with her? Why was she always the outsider? Her parents had always favored him. Always. It wasn't even a matter of favoritism anymore. It was way beyond that. It was almost as if she wasn't her parents' daughter. And that made her angry. She bit her lip, and concealed her anger as best as she could, "Dear brother. Do you know what our father is conspiring to do at this very moment?"

She caught the edge of a smile, "Why no. Please tell me."

The tone of his voice, which bordered on sarcasm, grated at her nerves. He knew! He had to know! "He and the council have decided to take my rights as heir away from me."

A full grin formed on his face. He'd known all along this would happen, she could feel it. "Aww, poor Arabeth. Daddy favors me before you. It's all about me.