Chapter 3: The truth about the seal

The banquet hall shone like a thousand candles as the crown prince returned from the gardens, his expression unreadable. The enormous birthday cake was positioned in the center of the room, draped with blue candy flowers and nine waltzing candles.

"Make a wish, Your Highness," the queen spoke with excitement, though her grip on her own son's shoulder was tight enough to whiten her knuckles.

The prince cut through the cake and guests cheered.

The king waved for the musicians to play.

"Let the dance begin!"

Nyx stood by the pillars, watching nobles chatting in a cloud of silk and jewels. She wasn't going in, until a sneer she knew came ringing behind her.

"What's wrong, half-blood?" Draco taunted, dancing with a human countess in his arms.

"No one to dance with a dragon without flame?"

Before Nyx could speak, a gentle voice pierced the crowd.

"I believe this dance is mine." The crown prince came near her, his gloved hand extended in black velvet.

Nyx was hesitant, but the prince's gaze was insistent. So she gave in.

As she slipped her hand into his, whispers erupted down the hall.

"You’re making a scene," Nyx muttered as they got into position.

"I’m making a point," he replied softly, guiding her into the waltz.

For a few fleeting moments, they moved in perfect sync—until a sharp clap shattered the music.

"How charming." The queen stood at the edge of the dance floor, her smile razor-thin. "But surely my stepson hasn’t forgotten his duty?"

She gestured toward a line of waiting noble maidens. "The next dance is Lady Estelle's."

The prince's fingers clenched, just for a second before he let go of Nyx's hands.

"Of course," he said stiffly. As he bowed to Nyx, his whispered so that only she could hear it, "The east garden. Midnight."

Then he was gone, lost to the queen's will.

The magnificent ball had turned into a drunken revelry by the stroke of midnight. Nobles staggered with goblets clutched in their hands, their laughter slurred and their steps unsteady.

The queen was long gone into her room, and her courtiers were left abandoned.

Nyx slipped away unnoticed, quiet on the marble floors as she moved through to the east garden. The air was cool, the scent of night-blooming roses and jasmine was thick in the air. Moonlight cast silver light on the stone paths, and long shadows layed across the hedges.

There, beneath a tall willow tree, was the crown prince.

He spun around as she approached, his dark eyes gleaming with the soft light of far-off torches. "You came."

Nyx crossed her arms. "You owe me an explanation."

The prince drew a breath, his usual controlled breath wavering just slightly. "I didn't bring you here to play games."

He opened his coat and drew out a thin, leather-bound book, its pages a bright yellow with age.

"This belonged to my late mother," he whispered. "She wrote about you."

Nyx froze. "What?"

He flipped the book open to a crumpled page. The handwriting was lovely but hasty, as if written in haste.

"The children of Zephyr and Liora will bear a seal not of weakness, but of protection. The fire is there—just hidden."

Nyx's breath froze. "Liora?" That was the name her mother had not been given, and had never been spoken by any member of the dragon clan.

The prince did not flinch. "Your mother and mine were friends. And whatever was done to you at birth… it wasn't just Seraphis's doing."

A rustling was heard in the hedges.

Nyx turned, but it was only a servant, his eyes darting wildly.

"Y-Your Highness," he stuttered. "The queen—she's for you."

The prince's jaw muscle clenched. "Tell her I'll be there soon."

The servant hesitated, then bowed and ran.

Nyx swung around to the prince. "Are you afraid of her?"

"I'm just not a fool," he said unemotionally. "And neither are you."

He banged the journal into her hands. "Take it. And next time we meet. you'd better have answers."

...****************...

The feast was done, and Nyx returned to her cold, lonely room inside the dragon fortress. The journal hidden beneath her Cloak. Assured that she would not be disturbed, she lit a single candle and opened the battered leather cover.

The pages smelled faintly of lavender and old paper. The writing was lovely, curving, the handwriting of a queen when she had no reason to rush.

"Zephyr brought me today, his child in his arms. The child is beautiful, her mother's fire already burning in her eyes. But Seraphis has convinced the elders the child is weak. They are going to seal her dragon heart next moon.

Nyx's hands trembled. "Liora never would have allowed that to happen. But Liora is not present, and Zephyr is bound by their laws. So we acted this evening. The seal they placed upon her will not silence her power but will keep it hidden. At the proper moment, the flame will ignite."

A dying flower fell from the pages, a blue winter rose, the symbol of the human royal dynasty.

Nyx flipped the page, her heart pounding in her ears.

"I don't know if I will survive to see Nyx become a woman. I do not have much time, the court is against me and my son is too young to protect himself. But I have instructed Sylphie. When the time arises, she will—"

The remainder was blurred, as if tears had fallen on the ink.

Nyx sat back, the truth pressing down on her like a heavy blanket.

Her mother had not been weak. Her seal was not a curse, but a shield. And the prince's mother, the true queen, had given her life to protect them both.

A queer warmth spread in Nyx's chest. Not pain but comprehension.

The seal inside her shuddered. For the first time in her existence, Nyx made sense. She was not helpless. She had been hidden.

...****************...

For weeks, Nyx practiced in secret

Every night, once the fortress was in slumber, she sneaked into the abandoned east wing, and among the dusty reek of lost magic, she practiced, not to break the seal, but to understand it.

"The fire is hidden, not gone," she whispered to herself, breathing in as a spark of heat flared beneath her rib cage.

Progress was slow. Some nights, all she managed to get was a wisp of smoke. Others, her fingers glowed gently before the warmth dwindled. But it was something.

Things were no different during the day. Draco and Ignis continued to corner her into the training yard, their taunts as vicious as ever.

"See the half-blood," Draco snarled one morning, kicking mud onto her boots. "Still pretending she's here?"

Nyx wiped away the dirt on her cheeks and said nothing. She might have fought back, might have let the fires in her heart burn. But not yet.

Then, one evening, a royal messenger arrived at the dragon fortress. Nyx was summoned to the great hall, where her uncle Marius scowled, with a cream-colored parchment in his hand.

"It looks as though the human court has summoned your presence," he spat, sneering, as if he was spewing the words out. "Some trash about honoring your mother's memory."

He tossed the letter on the ground. Nyx knelt to retrieve it. The wax seal was unmistakable—the royal crest, which was stamped in deep blue.

"His Majesty the crown prince asks the pleasure of Lady Nyx to the Palace of Dawn, in memory of the late Queen Liora's friendship with the crown."

...********To be continued..********...

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***