Before us, a magnificent silver dragon stretches its wings, scales glinting like polished mirrors in the early morning light. Its serpentine neck arches gracefully as our attendants scurry about, securing trunks and bags to the beast’s harness. The dragon’s eyes, swirling pools of liquid rcury, regard us with ancient wisdom.
Lydia, her fiery red hair whipping in the wind, practically bounces with excitent. “Can you believe it, Elwin?” she gushes, her hazel eyes alight with mischief. “You’re finally breaking free of this gilded cage! We can finally be as rowdy as we want.”
Beside her, Rowena offers a small, serene smile. Her short black hair barely stirs in the breeze, a stark contrast to Lydia’s wild mane. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she cautions softly. “We’re still representing Sunhaven, after all.”
I nod, agreeing with both of them in different ways. My heart races with anticipation, a cocktail of exhilaration and nerves swirling in my stomach.
Suddenly, I feel arms wrap around from behind, squeezing so tightly I fear my ribs might crack. “Do you really have to go, Elwin?” Mother’s voice breaks, thick with emotion.
I turn in her embrace, my chest tightening at the sight of tears streaming down her face. The fearso Queen Morgana, terror of the battlefield, reduced to a sobbing ss over her son leaving for school. It’s almost comical.
With gentle fingers, I wipe away her tears, summoning my most charming smile. “Mom,” I say, injecting a hint of playful mockery into my tone, “is this how the world’s strongest swordswoman should be acting?”
Mother’s erald eyes widen in surprise, then narrow in mock indignation. She gives a light swat on the arm, a watery chuckle escaping her lips. “Cheeky brat,” she mutters, but I can see the pride shining in her eyes.
“Don’t worry, Mother,” Lydia chis in, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll keep our precious prince safe from all those ravenous princesses at Starcrest.”
Rowena nods solemnly. “We won’t let him out of our sight,” she assures Mother.
I can’t help but chuckle at my sisters’ overprotectiveness. “Ladies, co on,” I say, shaking my head in amusent. “The whole point of going to Starcrest is to find a wife.”
Their faces imdiately contort into grimaces of varying intensity. Lydia’s nose wrinkles as if she’s slled sothing foul, while Rowena’s lips purse into a thin line. Even Mother’s expression darkens, her earlier tears forgotten in the face of this unwelco reminder.
Diana, standing a bit apart from the group, pipes up. Her voice carries the authoritative tone she’s been cultivating for her new role as a Starcrest professor. “When we were children,” she says, a hint of nostalgia coloring her words, “we all thought you’d marry the sister that won the throne.”
The air grows thick with tension at her words. I can feel the weight of unspoken expectations pressing down on . My sisters’ eyes flicker between each other and , a silent communication passing between them.
I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I face Diana. My voice is firm and final. “I’ve always staunchly opposed the bloody fight you won waged for the throne,” I state, my eyes eting her icy gaze unflinchingly.
The courtyard falls silent, save for the soft rustle of the dragon’s scales as it shifts impatiently.
Diana steps forward, her face a mask of calm determination. “You speak of things you don’t fully understand, little brother,” she says, her tone patronizing. “Our ways have kept Sunhaven strong for generations.”
Lydia pipes up, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitent and mischief. “Yes, and can you imagine, Elwin, if two people from our bloodline made a baby? It would be a monster!” She gestures wildly, her fiery hair whipping in the wind. “I an, think about it, our family’s legendary strength, combined and concentrated? The child would probably co out of the womb wielding a sword!”
The image she paints is both absurd and strangely plausible, given our family’s history. I can almost see it a newborn with muscles rippling beneath its blanket, tiny fists clenched around a miniature sword.
I laugh awkwardly, the sound hollow in the crisp morning air. “I can’t marry one of my sisters,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not right.” The words feel familiar on my tongue, a mantra I’ve repeated countless tis over the years.
Mother rolls her eyes dramatically, the gesture at odds with her regal bearing. “Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, “the sa thing as always.” Her tone is a mixture of exasperation and fondness, the kind only a mother can achieve after years of dealing with a stubborn child.
Mother’s eyes suddenly gleam with a fierce light, her earlier tears forgotten. She draws herself up to her full height, her regal bearing on full display.
“Very well, Elwin,” she declares, her voice ringing out across the courtyard. “If you insist on finding a bride outside our family, she must at least prove herself worthy.” Mother’s hand falls to the hilt of her sword, fingers caressing the ornate poml. “Your future wife must be able to best in combat. Only then will I deem her fit to protect and cherish you as you deserve.”
The dragon behind us lets out a low rumble as if in agreent with Mother’s proclamation. Its rcury eyes seem to dance with amusent at the unfolding drama.
I feel a surge of frustration welling up inside . My fists clench at my sides, knuckles turning white. “Mother,” I say, my voice low and intense, “I pray my future wife can’t even hold a sword.”
‘I don’t want a calloused hand job after all.’
A collective gasp ripples through my family. Lydia’s eyes widen in shock, her mouth hanging open. Rowena’s usually serene expression falters, a flicker of concern crossing her face. Even the attendants pause in their work, stealing glances at the unfolding scene.
Diana steps forward, her icy blue eyes blazing with indignation. “No brother of mine will be with soone who can’t even protect him,” she declares, her voice sharp as a blade. “It’s unthinkable! You are the miracle prince of Sunhaven, Elwin. You deserve a warrior queen, soone who can stand beside you in battle and…”
I cut her off with a look so cold it could freeze fire. My gaze bores into her, unflinching and unyielding. “I’ll marry whover I want,” I state, each word clear and deliberate.
Diana winces visibly, taking a step back as if physically struck by my words. The fierce determination in her eyes wavers, replaced by a flash of hurt. My sisters have always hated it when I get mad at them, and I can see the pain my harsh tone has caused reflected in Diana’s face.
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before speaking. “A queen does not need to know how to fight,” I say, my voice calm but firm. “They simply need to know how to lead those who can fight.”
Mother’s face contorts into a sneer, her erald eyes flashing with disdain. “That kind of thinking,” she scoffs, her voice dripping with contempt, “is exactly what led to every other nation being beneath us.”
She gestures grandly, encompassing the sprawling palace and the kingdom beyond. “Look around you, Elwin. Sunhaven stands undefeated, unconquered. Our won are warriors without equal, our queen a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield and the throne alike. This is our strength, our legacy.”
The dragon behind us lets out another low rumble as if she’s endorsing my Mother’s words with her power.
‘Why the fuck is this dragon so sassy?’
Rowena steps forward, her grey eyes soft with concern. “Brother,” she says gently, “you really need to think this through. Whoever you marry will likely beco our ally. Their strength, or lack thereof, will reflect on Sunhaven.”
Her words are asured, diplomatic, but I can hear the underlying worry in her tone. The delicate balance of power that Sunhaven has maintained for generations could be upset by my choice of bride.
Lydia, never one to let a mont grow too serious, chis in with a wicked grin. “And if they cheat on you,” she says, her hazel eyes shining with mischief, “we’ll crucify all their people.”
I raise an eyebrow at Lydia’s casual ntion of crucifixion. “How exactly do you crucify soone?” I ask, wondering if it’s different in this world
Lydia’s eyes light up with excitent, a grin spreading across her face. “Well, you start with nails through their hands and…”
Before she can finish, Diana cuts her off sharply. “That is not for a boy to hear,” she snaps, shooting Lydia a withering glare.
I bristle at Diana’s words. “I’m 20 years old,” I protest, crossing my arms over my chest.
Mother steps forward, her erald eyes softening as she looks at . “Even so,” she says gently, “you’re our lovely boy. There’s no need for you to hear such gory details.”
As I stand there, surrounded by my overprotective family, I can’t help but reflect on the irony of the situation. Mother has always refused to teach any ans of fighting, insisting that I should live a peaceful life. Yet here they are, casually discussing conquest as if it’s a perfectly normal conversation.
The disconnect feels jarring like two incompatible worlds colliding. On one hand, I’m sheltered and coddled, treated like a delicate flower that might wilt at the slightest hint of violence. On the other, I’m expected to marry a warrior queen capable of beating Mother in combat.
I stand awkwardly with Mother for a mont, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us.
“Well,” I say, breaking the tense silence, “it’s ti we get going.”
Mother’s eyes flash with a sudden, desperate sadness.
“Wait, wait, wait!” she cries, her voice cracking with emotion.
Before I can react, she pulls into a fierce embrace. Her arms wrap around tightly, as if she could keep here through sheer force of will. Then, with lightning-fast reflexes, she plants a huge, wet smooch on my cheek.
I can’t help but chuckle at her sudden display of affection. It’s so at odds with her usual stoic deanor, yet so quintessentially ‘mom.’ “Yes, thank you, Mother,” I say, my voice muffled against her shoulder.
She pulls back, her erald eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her hands linger on my shoulders as if she’s morizing the feel of beneath her palms. “I’ll see you for Parents’ Day,” she declares, her tone brooking no argunt.
I blink in surprise. “Is that really okay for the Queen of Sunhaven?” I ask, my brow furrowing in concern. The thought of Mother leaving her duties, even for a day, seems unthinkable.
Her eyes go wide, flashing with that familiar fire that has cowed diplomats and warriors alike. “I can do whatever I damn well please,” she growls, her voice a mix of indignation and fierce pride.
Rowena’s lodic laugh breaks through the calm. “Not if Diana has anything to say about it,” she muses, her grey eyes twinkling with amusent.
Mother’s laughter joins hers, rich and full-bodied. “Diana is twenty years too early to kill ,” she retorts, a hint of arrogance filling her tone.
I sigh heavily, feeling the weight of their words settle on my shoulders. “Enough killing talk,” I say firmly, turning back to face my family. The constant undercurrent of violence in their conversations never fails to unsettle , even after all these years.
With a deep breath, I step forward and wrap my arms around Mother one last ti.
Finally, I pull away and make my way towards the dragon. Its rcury eyes follow my approach. As I near, I can feel the heat radiating from its massive body, a stark contrast to the cool morning air.
Lydia falls into step beside , her fiery hair a beacon in the soft light. “Don’t worry, brother,” she says, her voice low and intense. “I’m not gonna let any whores sink their teeth into you.”
I stop short, turning to face her. “Then you missed the point of going to Starcrest entirely,” I say, unable to keep the frustration from my voice.
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