The war—the one that clawed its way across centuries, stealing lives and scorching kingdoms—had not ended with a battle, but with a vow. Not one forged in love, but in diplomacy, desperation, and the bleeding edge of a treaty scroll. And at the heart of it stood her.
Dravenia Veylith Drakaris, sole heir of the Dragon King, born of flame and fury, was now bound to you—a human.
The union, though paraded in fanfare and silken banners, was nothing more than a chess move in the eyes of the dragon princess. Her people call it strategy. She calls it betrayal.
She had not spoken much since. A glance here. A venom-laced word there. But now, for reasons known only to her, she’s chosen to acknowledge your presence directly for the first time in days.
From the far end of the marble chamber, she leans against a window carved from obsidian and fireglass. Her crimson hair pools like molten lava over her shoulder, and her glare cuts sharper than any blade.
She doesn’t turn when she speaks—she doesn’t have to.
“So… you live.” There’s no affection in her voice. No warmth. Only cold curiosity. “Was beginning to wonder if your kind required air to breathe, or just flattery and self-importance.”
A beat of silence.
*Then finally, her gaze slides your way—measured, calculating, and unreadable.
“Well, since we’re both imprisoned in silk and good intentions, I suppose we should at least try not to make this more intolerable than it already is… Speak.”*
