The day after Aeron had first been brought to the palace was supposed to be the day of his judgnt. That was what they told him, the council would gather, and the king would hear what was to be done with him. But that day ca, and a ssenger arrived saying the session had been postponed.
So council mbers had claid they could not attend, and the first to make such an excuse was none other than Lord Voryn Vanýr himself. Without the full council present, the king decided to delay the matter.
And so, Aeron stayed.
One day beca two, two beca seven, and before long, the weeks were passing by. He found himself in the palace far longer than he had expected. The longer he stayed, the more he missed ho, his mother, his friends, and, most of all, Draco.
Whenever he could, he would write letters to his mother. Sotis they reached her, and she would write back. But other tis, no reply ca at all. In many of his letters, Aeron asked her about his father, who he was, what kind of man he had been, and why he had died in the capital. His mother had once told him his father had breathed his last within these city walls, and Aeron was determined to know the truth.
But on the rare occasion she did respond to those questions, her answer was strange. She warned him that by asking such things in writing, he was putting himself in danger. She wrote that he had already "invited trouble" by sending those letters and revealing too much about himself.
Aeron didn’t understand what she ant. To him, they were just questions, harmless words on paper. What he didn’t know was that the capital was a place of secrets and manipulation. He didn’t know that most of his letters, if not all, had been intercepted before reaching their destination.
When he wasn’t writing to her, Aeron would write to Ronan and Yvarra, his friends from ho. He’d ask after Draco, and their replies always made him worry. Draco, they said, was not the sa. He barely ate, spent long hours lying down, and seed lost in thought.
Aeron’s heart ached reading those words. He would write back promising that he would return soon, telling them to watch over Draco until then. He didn’t know how soon "soon" would be, but he wanted to believe it wouldn’t be much longer.
Life in the palace slowly beca a strange mix of confinent and discovery. Aeron learned more about the capital’s customs, its rigid decorum, and the rules that governed life among its nobles. He visited the royal library, walked through gardens that were older than the kingdom itself, and sotis watched the Phoenix Guards, the elite warriors of the crown, practice in the training yards.
On so days, the captain would allow him to join their drills. Aeron found himself not just watching but taking part, and sparring with the Phoenix guards. He was getting better at swordfighting.
One afternoon, Aeron was in the palace training field, and his arms were already aching from hours of practice. Nyella was there too, standing at the edge of the field, and watched him spar with one of the Phoenix Guard.
From across the training grounds approached a tall young man. His fine clothes and polished boots stood out in the dusty field. It was Vaelen Vanýr, the only son of Lord Voryn Vanýr. He stopped several paces away, eyeing Aeron with a smirk.
"So," Vaelen began. "Is this the so-called Dragon Lord? Hmph... such a small body, an unrefined stance, and barely any skill worth speaking of." His gaze from Aeron’s hair to his boots.
Before Aeron could respond, Nyella stepped forward. "At least he’s not a pampered lord’s son who runs away at the first sign of trouble," she said.
Vaelen’s smirk deepened. "Your Highness," he said to Nyella with a slight bow, "you’re always out for . I’m only here to greet the great savior of our kingdom."
Nyella crossed her arms. "That didn’t sound like a greeting, Vaelen. And I’ve told you more than once, you have terrible manners."
"Perhaps," Vaelen replied with a shrug, "but you might show so respect. After all, I’m the man most likely to marry you."
Aeron blinked at that, caught off guard. Then he asked Nyella. "Who’s this person? You’ve never ntioned him before." She answered, in a low voice. "I never ntioned him because he wasn’t an important person. He’s the son of Lord Voryn Vanýr, the high chancellor of the realm.
"In addition to that, he’s a spoilt brat that doesn’t know how to act or talk." She added.
Vaelen said imdiately. "First of all, I’m not spoilt. But then," he said looking at Aeron. "What’s this? That look on your face... don’t tell there’s sothing between you two. How scandalous, the princess and the dragon rider, haha. What a magnificent little story that would be."
He stepped closer to Aeron and lowered his voice. "Sorry to disappoint, young dragon, but it’s going to be her and . That’s already decided."
Nyella’s eyes narrowed. "It’s not, and you know it. It will never happen."
"Oh, it will," Vaelen said, a cold smile on his lips. "And no one will stop it. Whoever tries... well, they’ll vanish. Just like you will, young dragon. Very soon."
Aeron stiffened at the words. Nyella stepped forward. "What do you an by that?"
Vaelen raised his brows as if surprised she didn’t know. "You haven’t heard? The council was called into urgent session today." He sounded like there was more to it.
Before Nyella could press him further, footsteps approached. Easter, one of the queen’s handmaidens, ca running toward them. She stopped beside Nyella, slightly out of breath.
"Your Highness," she said, "Queen Serenya summons Aeron imdiately."
Nyella frowned. "Why? What’s going on?"
"I don’t know," Esther replied. "She only said it was urgent."
Aeron glanced once at Nyella before following Esther across the field.
When they entered the queen’s chambers, Queen Serenya was already on her feet. She didn’t waste a mont on formalities.
"Aeron," she said firmly, "co with . We must leave the palace at once."
He froze. "Leave? Why? What’s happening?"
Her voice lowered, but there was urgency. "You’re in danger. If you stay here any longer, you might not leave alive."
Aeron’s pulse quickened, a lot of questions were on his mind, but the queen was already moving toward a hidden passage behind a tall draped curtain. "There’s no ti," she added. "Trust , Aeron. We have to go. Now."
"..."
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