Chapter One: The Duel

The royal court of Elthira bustled with anticipation, gathered in the grand arena to witness the most anticipated duel of the year: a battle between two of the kingdom’s strongest warriors—Princess Seraphine, half-human, half-Fey, and Prince Aeryn, the son of the Dragon-Blooded King.

Seraphine stood tall, her eyes fixed on Aeryn across the arena, the clamor of the court fading into the background. She had been waiting for this moment for years—ever since Aeryn had humiliated her in their first encounter, claiming that no half-breed could ever be strong enough to wield a crown. Their rivalry had only grown, and today, they would finally settle it.

The tension between them was palpable, electric even, and the court whispered of the rivalry with amusement, some even wagering on who would emerge victorious.

"Try not to embarrass yourself, Seraphine," Aeryn called out, his tone casual yet dripping with mockery. His sharp, dragon-like eyes gleamed, and his smirk only fueled her desire to win. "It won’t look good for your kind if you lose in front of the entire court."

Seraphine’s grip tightened on her sword, her heart pounding with adrenaline. She was a warrior, trained by the best, but Aeryn’s dragon blood made him formidable. His strength, his speed—he was a nightmare on the battlefield, and he knew it.

"Save your breath," she shot back, her voice steady despite the fire in her veins. "You’ll need it once I’m done with you."

The signal for the duel rang out, and they charged at each other, swords clashing in a flurry of sparks. Aeryn moved with the grace of a predator, but Seraphine matched him strike for strike, her Fey agility keeping her just out of reach. Their blades met again and again, the sound of metal ringing through the arena.

The crowd watched, breathless, as the duel stretched on. But Seraphine wasn’t fighting just for herself today—she was fighting for her place, for respect, for the half-bloods like her who were never seen as equals in the royal courts. Aeryn, the perfect prince with royal blood, was the embodiment of everything she had fought against her entire life.

With a sharp twist, Seraphine disarmed Aeryn, sending his sword flying across the arena. She held her blade to his throat, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The arena fell silent, every eye fixed on the two of them.

But Aeryn… he didn’t look defeated. Instead, he was smiling, his eyes locked with hers in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

"You think this is over?" he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "It’s only just begun, Princess."

Before Seraphine could react, Aeryn’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with inhuman speed. His strength was overwhelming, and in one fluid motion, he flipped her over, sending her crashing to the ground. The audience gasped, and before she could get up, he was already on top of her, his face inches from hers, their breaths mingling.

"Careful," he said softly, his smirk still in place. "You might just make me fall for you."

Seraphine’s heart raced, but it wasn’t from the fight anymore. The way he looked at her—it was different now. There was something in his eyes, something unsettling. She shoved him off, her cheeks burning with frustration, both from losing and from the strange heat that had risen between them.

As they stood, the court erupted in cheers and laughter, but Seraphine barely heard them. She kept her gaze on Aeryn, trying to figure out what had changed.

“You should keep your distance,” he said, sheathing his sword and stepping closer. “There are secrets in this kingdom you’re not ready to know, and getting involved with me would be a mistake. A fatal one.”

Seraphine narrowed her eyes. "I don’t plan on getting involved with you."

Aeryn’s grin widened, a dangerous edge to it. "You don’t have a choice, Princess. We’re bound by more than just blood and crowns. You’ll see soon enough."

Before she could respond, Aeryn turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the center of the arena, her mind racing. She didn’t know what he meant, but something told her that this duel was the beginning of a much larger game—a game that might cost her more than just the crown.

As the crowd dispersed, Seraphine glanced down at her hand, where a faint burn mark appeared, glowing with a strange, golden light.

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