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Chapter Text

The grand hall of Calldyr’s Royal Palace shimmered with opulence. King Tauri’s voice echoed through the chamber as he welcomed the delegates, his words laced with diplomacy. The Tyrrendor and Poromiel delegations listened politely, their expressions betraying nothing of their true intentions.

King Fen Riorson of Tyrrendor arrived with a formidable entourage. At his side was his son, Prince Xaden Riorson, known for his charisma and sharp tactical mind. General Brennan Aisereigh, disguised with glamour to conceal his identity as Brennan Sorrengail, walked with an air of quiet confidence. Felix, the king’s trusted advisor, and General Goll Tavis added to the delegation’s gravitas. Supporting the military presence were Prince Xaden’s closest friends Garrick Tavis, Liam Mairi, Bohdi Durran, and Imogen Carulo, all celebrated warriors and leaders in their own right.

From Poromiel, Queen Maraya Cordella’s delegation matched Tyrrendor’s strength. Accompanying her were Prince Drake Cordella, whose imposing presence and sharp intellect mirrored his mother’s. Her advisor and brother, Viscount Tecarus, provided diplomatic insight, while his daughter, Syrenna Cordella, brought her expertise in military strategy. Two of Poromiel’s most decorated generals flanked the queen, their armor gleaming with the insignias of gryphon fliers.

The delegates from Tyrrendor and Poromiel exchanged knowing glances as they entered the halls of Calldyr’s Royal Palace, their camaraderie forged during the rebellion and their shared struggle against the Venin. Navarre’s officials, led by King Tauri, greeted them with carefully curated smiles, unaware of the deep bond between the two visiting nations.

Tyrrendor and Poromiel’s alliance, born in the fires of rebellion, had grown stronger in the years since. Their cooperation extended beyond military campaigns; they shared intelligence, resources, and strategies to combat the Venin. Unlike Navarre, which continued to suppress knowledge of the Venin’s existence, Tyrrendor and Poromiel’s leaders were determined to address the threat head-on.

The primary agenda of the summit was a peace treaty, but King Fen and Queen Maraya harbored a covert objective. They sought to uncover the legacies and signets of Navarre’s most promising young leaders. The legacies, future pillars of Navarre’s power, were critical to swaying the balance of the continent’s future. If Tyrrendor and Poromiel could influence these legacies to join their cause, the combined forces might finally end the Venin menace.

-Brennan-

Brennan stood among the delegates of Poromiel and Tyrrendor, the glamour disguising his true face as they entered the grand hall. The banners of Navarre hung high, the flickering candlelight making the golden insignias gleam with false righteousness. The scent of aged wood, wax, and perfumed nobility clung to the air, but beneath it, he swore he could still smell the rot. The deception. The quiet, festering stench of a kingdom that had chosen to look the other way.

At the far end of the hall, King Tauri stood with his generals flanking him. Their armor gleamed under the torchlight, their expressions hard, unreadable. And there, to the King’s right, stood her.

His mother.

Lilith Sorrengail was as poised as ever, her presence regal, commanding, utterly unwavering. She wore her rank as comfortably as she wore her fitted uniform—every seam perfect, every detail precise. Even without the weight of a crown, she carried herself as though she ruled the room.

A mother. A warrior. A liar.

Brennan’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. He had long prepared for this moment—told himself he wouldn’t falter when he saw her again. But the sting of betrayal twisted in his chest, fresh as an open wound.

She knew. They all knew. And they did nothing.

Beneath his glamour, his expression remained impassive, but his mind roiled. The generals standing alongside her—the same ones who had led campaigns, signed decrees, given orders—had allowed the Venin to flourish in secret. They had known the truth and buried it beneath layers of politics and war tactics.

A whisper at his side pulled him from his thoughts.

“They are not here.”

Felix’s voice was low, a quiet thread of assurance that grounded him to the present.

Brennan’s jaw tightened. He had been scanning the room, seeking someone—his sisters. His sister who are clueless on the danger beyond the wards, his sisters he miss and longs to see. He hadn’t realized he was doing it until Felix’s words confirmed what his eyes already knew.

Mira and Violet weren’t here.

"No, they are not."

He forced himself to breathe, his fingers loosening, his spine straightening. This was not the time for emotion, not the time for longing.

He was Brennan Aisereigh now. A ghost among the living.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden Riorson strolled through the bustling streets of Calldyr, his tawny skin and the rebellion relic etched into his arm unmistakable markers of his Tyrrendor origins. Beside him, Garrick Tavis walked with an easy confidence, his grin drawing both wary glances and amused whispers from passersby. The people’s reactions ranged from cautious to curious, particularly the women who couldn’t seem to resist sneaking glances at the pair.

“Even with the relics, they can’t resist our good looks,” Garrick muttered, smirking as his gaze flicked to a group of women who quickly averted their eyes.

Xaden shot his friend a bored expression. “Do you ever stop?”

“Hey, who knows? You might find a girl you like around here,” Garrick suggested, his tone light and teasing.

“I doubt it,” Xaden replied flatly. “The last thing I want is to be in this phony country any longer than necessary.”

Garrick shrugged. “If you say so.”

They continued walking, their presence drawing a steady stream of attention. Just as Xaden was about to suggest returning to their quarters, a carriage caught his eye. Inside, a girl sat with regal poise, her long brown hair braided and the ends are metallic silver that shimmered in the sunlight. Her skin was pale, her features delicate, and her eyes—a mesmerizing blend of blues and ambers—held a light that seemed to pierce through the bustling city around her.

Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the world around Xaden faded into insignificance. The carriage began to move again, breaking the spell. Without a second thought, Xaden bolted after it, his heart racing.

“Xaden, what the…?” Garrick called, hurrying to keep up.

“I need to know who she is,” Xaden said, determination lacing his voice as he dodged through the crowd, his gaze fixed on the retreating carriage.

Xaden followed the carriage with Garrick on his tail, weaving through the bustling streets of Calldyr. The carriage finally stopped in front of a modest bookstore. A maid exited first, scanning the area cautiously before turning to help a girl out of the carriage. She was cloaked, her hood drawn low, but the silver-tipped braid of her hair peeked out, catching the light. The maid ushered the girl inside, glancing around as if wary of unseen threats.

"Looks like she's someone important," Garrick murmured, his tone edged with curiosity.

Xaden nodded and followed the pair into the bookstore. They pretended to browse, blending into the quiet hum of the shop. The bookstore owner greeted the cloaked girl warmly before noticing Xaden and Garrick. His eyes flicked to the rebellion relics on their arms, and his expression shifted slightly. Nodding toward them, he spoke softly to the girl, who then moved to explore the shelves.

"Subtle," Xaden muttered, glancing at Garrick.

"I'll handle him," Garrick said, strolling toward the owner with an easy swagger.

Xaden, meanwhile, kept his eyes on the girl. She wandered among the shelves, her hood still drawn, but from the right angle, he caught glimpses of her face. The pale light from the windows highlighted her delicate features. She had two books in her hands, her voice soft as she muttered to herself, "Do I need these? No. Do I want these? Yes." A small, self-indulgent smile graced her lips as she hugged the books to her chest. Xaden felt his pulse quicken.

He stepped closer, watching as she reached for another book on a higher shelf. Her hood slipped back, revealing more of her profile. She was stunning, her pale skin and striking hazel eyes a mesmerizing mix of blues and ambers. Xaden instinctively moved to help, retrieving the book for her.

"Thank you," she said warily, her tone polite but guarded as her eyes met his.

He opened his mouth to ask her name, but the maid's voice interrupted. "Miss, I think we should leave."

The girl frowned, reluctant to leave, but obeyed. She handed the books to the maid, who returned them to the bookstore owner. Xaden followed her as she moved toward the door, Garrick now speaking with the maid.

"May I ask your name?" Garrick inquired smoothly.

The maid looked at him sharply, her eyes flicking to the relic on his arm. "We must go," she said curtly, pulling the girl closer.

Suddenly, Xaden caught a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. A dagger sliced through the air, pinning Garrick's tunic sleeve to a wooden post. The maid stepped protectively in front of the girl, her fiery gaze locking on Garrick.

"Stay back," the girl commanded, her tone sharp and unwavering.

Garrick raised his hands in a gesture of peace, attempting to explain. "We mean no harm—"

"We should leave," the maid interrupted, her tone firm. She tugged the girl's hood back over her head and handed her the books. Without another glance, they swept out of the bookstore.

Xaden stood frozen for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "Interesting," he muttered.

Garrick joined him, shaking his sleeve free from the dagger. "Beautiful and violent," he remarked, rubbing his arm. "Just your type."

Xaden chuckled, his gaze lingering on the door where the mysterious girl had disappeared. "Maybe."

-DRAKE-

Drake Cordella was settling into his assigned room, his cousin Syrena pacing and ranting about the palace accommodations.

“Your room is so much better than mine. The ceilings are too low, the bed’s too narrow—” she huffed, her indignation unabated.

Drake barely acknowledged her as he scratched notes into his journal, the steady rhythm of his pen the only sound cutting through her tirade. He looked up for a moment, glancing out the window for reprieve, when movement caught his eye. A cloaked figure leapt gracefully from a balcony a few floors above, landing silently in the gardens below.

His curiosity sparked, Drake closed his journal and stood, brushing past Syrena.

“Where are you going?” she asked, exasperated.

“Out. Stay here.”

He descended to the garden quietly and found a spot behind a stone pillar, concealed by the moonlight shadows. He waited, patient but skeptical, as time dragged on, he was about to abandon his watch when faint voices reached his ears.

A woman and three men emerged from the darkness, heading toward the palace. The woman stood tall and confident, her golden-brown hair catching the moonlight where it was cut neatly above her shoulders. Warm brown eyes glimmered with determination as she handed a small pouch to an elderly, meek man.

“This isn’t much,” she said softly, “but it will get you food for a while. Use it wisely.”

The man clutched the pouch with trembling hands. “Thank you, miss. I... I don’t know how to repay your kindness.”

She smiled, waving him off. “Just stay safe.”

As the old man disappeared into the night, the two muscular men beside her moved in perfect synchronization. They bent at the knees, hoisting her effortlessly into the air. With a fluid roll, she landed on a balcony above—the very where Drake is stood.

Drake inhaled sharply, stepping back into the shadows as she approached the doors leading inside. Up close, she was even more striking, her features sharp but elegant, her aura commanding yet enigmatic. Drake decided he couldn’t let her slip away without answers.

He stepped out, catching her wrist. “Who are you?”

In an instant, she pivoted, her movements a blur. Before he could react, she had him pinned against the pillar, a dagger pressed lightly against his throat. Her warm brown eyes blazed with fire, so close that he could see flecks of gold in their depths.

“Who are you?” she countered, her voice low and fierce.

Drake was utterly mesmerized. Her jasmine scent lingered in the air, clouding his thoughts. Despite the blade at his neck, his lips curled into a faint smile.

He held her gaze, his voice calm despite the blade at his throat. “I’m Drake. You are?”

She didn’t relax, her grip on the dagger steady. “Drake who?”

He raised an eyebrow, the faint smirk still on his lips. “Cordella. Prince of Poromiel.”

Her eyes narrowed, scanning his face for a lie. Finding none, she pulled the dagger back slightly but didn’t lower it. “A prince sneaking around in the shadows? That’s hardly princely behavior.”

Drake chuckled, shifting subtly against the pillar to ease the pressure on his back. “And a lady leaping out of balconies and handing out coins in secret? That’s hardly ladylike.”

“I didn’t expect the prince of Poromiel to be skulking around balconies.” She glanced down at the garden briefly, calculating her next move.

“I wasn’t skulking,” Drake corrected, his voice low and smooth. “I was curious. You caught my attention.” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. “What is your name, vicious lady?”

She smirks, a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes. “Why would I tell you?”

For a moment, neither moved, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Then, with a fluid motion, she stepped back, slipping the dagger into a hidden sheath at her side.

“Go back to your room, Prince,” she said, her voice clipped. “This conversation never happened.”

Drake didn’t follow as she strode toward the balcony. He watched, intrigued, as she leapt over the edge with practiced ease, landing gracefully on another balcony below. He stood there, his heart still racing as the woman disappeared into the palace. Her smirk lingered in his mind, a tantalizing mixture of challenge and mystery. For a moment, he debated following her, but something in her commanding presence made him stay put.

“Who are you really?” he murmured to himself, the faint jasmine scent she left behind still clinging to the air.

Garrick appeared at Drake’s side, yawning. “What are you doing out here?”

Drake smirked, “I just meeting someone interesting.”

“Do I want to know?” Garrick asked, leaning lazily against the pillar.

Drake’s grin widened. “Probably not. But I have a feeling this summit just got a lot more entertaining.”

Chapter Text

The next morning before the welcoming brunch, briefing room was tense with purpose, yet a current of playful anticipation as Felix conjured his holograms. The shimmering figures rotated slowly above the table, each illuminated by Felix’s narration.

“We want you to focus on these Legacies they are about your same age and they are also key players you’ll be dealing with during the summit. Be prepared for resistance; they don’t trust outsiders easily. But any alliance, no matter how small, could tip the balance in our favor.”

Felix continued, his tone steady, but the undercurrent of urgency was clear. “Remember, the goal isn’t just to gather information—it’s to create connections. Allies. Even one defection from their ranks could weaken Navarre’s control and strengthen our fight against the Venin.”

"This," Felix said, gesturing to a dirty blond man with piercing green eyes and a regal posture, "is Halden Tauri, Crown Prince of Navarre. Many of you have met him before."

Xaden and Drake exchanged a brief glance, their expressions neutral. They knew Halden well enough to recognize his charm—and his arrogance.

Felix continued, his voice steady as the hologram shifted to another figure. "Alic Tauri, the second prince." A tall, dark-haired man appeared, his stance less polished than Halden's but no less confident.

"Cam Tauri, the third prince," Felix added, and a younger, leaner figure emerged, his eyes sharp and calculating.

Drake barely spared them a glance, his mind already wandering until the next hologram appeared.

"And here we have Mira Sorrengail, eldest daughter of General Sorrengail."

The room dimmed slightly as the image of Mira materialized, her golden-brown hair cut short above her shoulders and her warm brown eyes glowing with confidence. Felix went on to describe her accolades, but Drake didn’t hear a word. A slow smile crept onto his face, and he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Caught you,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low enough that only Xaden, seated beside him, could hear.

Before Xaden could ask, the hologram shifted again, and a new figure appeared—a smaller woman with long brown hair tipped in silver, her delicate features sharp and striking.

“This is Violet Sorrengail,” Felix said, “General Sorrengail’s youngest daughter.”

Xaden straightened imperceptibly, his tawny eyes narrowing as he studied the image. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Garrick, always quick to notice, nudged him with his elbow. "Violet Sorrengail, huh?" he said with a teasing grin. His brows waggled suggestively.

"Shut up," Xaden muttered, though he didn’t stop smiling.

Felix continued, highlighting other figures in the hologram. "Dain Aetos, colonel Aetos' son, Rhiannon Matthias, Ridoc Gamlyn, and Sawyer Henricks niece and nephews of General Melgren." The images flickered as each name was spoken, but both Drake and Xaden were no longer paying attention.

Drake leaned slightly toward Xaden, whispering with a smirk, “So about that plan to escape this place? I think I might stay for the whole thing after all.”

Xaden raised a brow, his lips quirking in amusement. “Actually, same. I’ll stick around.”

The room faded into background noise as the two princes exchanged knowing smirks, their excitement barely contained. The idea of meeting the legacies in person had suddenly made the summit far more intriguing.

“Well,” Garrick said, leaning back in his chair, “this just got interesting.”

“Very,” Drake murmured, his thoughts already racing.

The door clicked shut behind the others, the room seemed to grow quieter, the air heavy with purpose. Prince Xaden and Prince Drake straightened in their seats as King Fen and Queen Maraya approached the central table. Brennan, his face schooled into a mask of calm, flanked them silently, though his eyes carried an unmistakable intensity.

Felix gestured toward the hologram projector, which flickered to life again. “This part of the briefing is specific to your interactions with the Navarrean leadership.” He turned to King Fen, who nodded for him to proceed.

“Navarre’s generals and advisors,” Felix began, as a rotating image of hardened faces appeared, one by one. “You’ll encounter most of them during the summit meetings. These individuals are critical decision-makers. Gaining their favor—or at least their neutrality—could make or break our efforts.”

Drake leaned forward, his sharp eyes taking in the profiles. “And their stance on Navarre’s opinion on Venin?”

Queen Maraya answered, her voice cool and precise. “Publicly, they stand united. Privately, they’re split. Some are loyal to the Tauri dynasty at all costs. Others are more... pragmatic. Those are the ones you’ll target.” the Hologram flicked from face after face of generals of Navarre.

Felix’s hologram hovered in the air, its flickering light casting a cool glow across the room. They discussed each general and advisors.

“And finally,” Felix said, his tone more cautious, “The Tauri princes. Crown Prince Halden, Second Prince Alic, and Third Prince Cam.”

The hologram displayed their images side by side: Halden’s composed demeanor, Alic’s roguish charm, and Cam’s quiet intensity.

“We’ve encountered Halden before,” Xaden said, leaning back. “He’s sharp. Calculating and arrogant.”

Drake chuckled. “Alic, on the other hand, is more interested in flirting than strategy.”

“Imogen and Syrena won’t be left alone with him, per your instructions.” Xaden added.

Queen Maraya’s lips twitched in amusement, but her voice was serious. “Good. That prince is dangerous in his own way. His charm isn’t to be underestimated.”

The hologram shifted again, this time displaying Mira and Violet Sorrengail. Brennan stiffened beside the king and queen, though his expression remained unreadable.

“And the Sorrengail sisters,” Felix said, his tone neutral. “They’re closely tied to the Tauri princes, attending key meetings and strategy sessions. We don’t know the full extent of their involvement, but their presence is significant.”

“Significant how?” Xaden asked, his gaze fixed on Violet’s image.

Felix hesitated, glancing at Brennan. “Our spies suggest it may be tied to their signets. Both were pulled from Basgiath after bonding their dragons and have been privately tutored since.”

Brennan rose abruptly, pacing to the side of the room. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. “And yet, no one thought to tell me this sooner?”

“Brennan,” King Fen said sharply, his voice like a whip. “Control yourself.”

Brennan paused, taking a deep breath before returning to his seat. “I’m fine. Continue.”

Felix nodded, though the tension in the room was palpable. “The Sorrengail sisters are an enigma. Mira’s known for her strategic mind, while Violet’s reputation is still forming. Both are closely guarded by their mother and the Tauri's, which suggests their value is significant.”

Drake leaned toward Xaden, his voice low. “This summit just got a lot more interesting.”

Xaden smirked but said nothing, his eyes still on Violet’s hologram.

King Fen spoke again, his tone firm. “Your mission is clear. Engage with the legacies, observe their dynamics, and find leverage where you can. This summit is our opportunity to shift the balance of power. Do not waste it.”

Brennan nodded reluctantly, his fingers flexing against the table.

Drake and Xaden exchanged a final glance, their earlier amusement replaced by determination. The stakes were higher than ever, and they were ready.

As Felix dismissed the hologram, he said, “You’ll meet the legacies and key players formally at the welcoming brunch. Make every moment count.”

Xaden leaned back in his chair, his mind already calculating his next moves. Drake, meanwhile, couldn’t help but grin at the thought of seeing Mira again, this time with a chance to actually speak to her.

-XADEN-

The dining hall was a masterpiece of opulence, sunlight streaming through stained glass windows and casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the polished marble floors. The long tables were adorned with fine china, crystal glasses, and an extravagant spread of fruits, pastries, and delicacies fit for royalty. The air buzzed with the hum of conversation, a symphony of power and politicking.

Prince Xaden entered the hall with Drake, Imogen, Garrick, Syrena, Bohdi, and Liam in tow. His dark eyes swept the room, methodically cataloging each face he had memorized during the morning’s briefing. Generals, advisors, and nobles milled about, their postures a mix of confidence and calculated charm.

His gaze traveled further, searching until it landed on a round table near the center of the room. The Legacies Table.

There they were, the infamous group they had been briefed about. Crown Prince Halden sat at the head, exuding an effortless authority that matched his reputation. Beside him, Prince Alic lounged with a casual smirk, his sharp green eyes scanning the room like a predator. Prince Cam, quieter but no less commanding, leaned forward, speaking to a dark-haired man Xaden recognized as Ridoc Gamlyn.

But it wasn’t the princes or Ridoc who held Xaden’s attention. It was the two Sorrengail sisters seated among them.

Mira, with her striking golden-brown hair and commanding presence, spoke animatedly with the crown prince, her gestures measured and precise. She was everything the briefing had described—sharp, confident, and impossible to ignore.

And then there was Violet.

At first, she was partially hidden, her small frame dwarfed by those seated around her. But when one of the men said something that made the group laugh, Violet tilted her head back, her laughter bright and unguarded. The movement allowed the sunlight to catch her, highlighting her delicate features and the silver-tipped ends of her brown hair.

Xaden felt his lips twitch into a small, involuntary smile. She looked radiant, her warmth contrasting with the grandeur of the room. She was so small compared to the others, yet her presence seemed to anchor the group.

Then her eyes caught his.

Her laughter stilled, her smile fading into a guarded expression. Xaden’s smile, however, deepened, and he dipped his head in a subtle bow, a gesture as if to say, Nice to meet you again.

Her reaction was swift. She raised her brow at him, rolls her eyes then averted, her fingers tightening slightly around her glass of mimosa.

Xaden’s amusement grew, but before he could dwell on it, Crown Prince Halden noticed their arrival. His sharp eyes assessed the group before he gave a curt nod. Then, leaning slightly toward his companions, he said something that caused the entire group to turn their attention to Xaden and the others.

The room seemed to shift as the Legacies Table collectively regarded them, their expressions ranging from curiosity to polite indifference.

Garrick leaned closer to Xaden, his voice low. “Looks like we’ve caught their attention.”

Xaden’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression calm and unreadable. “Good. Let’s make it count.”

Without breaking stride, the group moved toward their assigned table, the weight of the Legacies’ stares following them. The game had begun.

-DRAKE-

The dining hall was a spectacle of wealth and power, but Drake barely noticed the ornate surroundings. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd with purpose, cataloging faces and alliances, just as Felix had drilled into them during the morning briefing. He moved with his group, his posture relaxed yet commanding, his reputation as both a businessman and a prince giving him an air of quiet authority.

It didn’t take long to find what—or rather, who—he was looking for.

Following Xaden’s gaze, Drake spotted The Legacies Table.

There she was, seated beside Crown Prince Halden, her golden-brown hair catching the sunlight like a halo. Mira Sorrengail. The mysterious woman from the moonlit garden, now unmasked and unguarded. She was holding a mimosa, her laughter ringing out as she leaned slightly toward Halden, recounting something that had the Crown Prince smiling in return.

The contrast was stark.

Last night, she had been cloaked in secrecy, a shadow slipping through the night with dangerous grace. Today, she was radiant, fully visible in the light of day, her confidence as dazzling as the sunlit jewels on the table before her. Drake didn’t know which version of her he preferred—the enigma of the night or the vibrant woman now commanding attention with ease.

One thing was certain: Mira Sorrengail had captivated him like no one else.

He watched her, his gaze lingering as she gestured animatedly, her expressive brown eyes alive with humor. Then, mid-laugh, she saw him.

Their eyes locked.

Drake smiled, his expression one of quiet triumph as if to say, Caught you.

Instead of faltering, Mira lifted her chin, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. The boldness of her response was like a spark to dry kindling.

Drake’s grin widened, a flash of genuine amusement and intrigue crossing his face. The room seemed to blur, the sounds of chatter and clinking glasses fading as they held each other’s gaze. She was entirely unlike anyone he’d ever met, and for the first time in years, he felt the thrill of unpredictability.

Before either could react further, Halden turned toward him and Xaden. The Crown Prince’s sharp eyes assessed their group before he gave a curt nod. Then, leaning slightly toward the others at the table, he said something that caused all heads to turn in their direction.

Drake didn’t look away from Mira until Garrick leaned in, breaking the moment.

“Looks like we’ve caught their attention,” Garrick muttered, his tone laced with amusement.

Drake finally tore his gaze from Mira, his grin still firmly in place. “Good,” he said, his voice low and full of meaning.

As they moved toward their assigned table, he could feel the weight of her eyes on him, just as he was certain she could still feel his. The game was only just beginning.

-XADEN-

Xaden sat at the grand table, the buzz of conversation and clinking silverware filling the air around him. Garrick was on his left, exchanging banter with Syrena about the extravagant spread of food, while Drake was on his right, his attention clearly elsewhere.

Xaden’s gaze, however, had its own magnetic pull. It drifted repeatedly to the Legacies Table, where Violet Sorrengail sat.

She wasn’t hidden away in a cloak this time, nor overshadowed by her imposing companions. In the daylight, Violet was striking, her long brown hair with silver tips catching the sun as it framed her radiant face. She spoke occasionally to the group, her expressions lively and warm, but he noticed one consistent detail: she avoided looking in his direction.

That deliberate avoidance only fueled his focus, the question why gnawing at the edges of his mind.

The sound of the dining hall doors opening drew Xaden’s attention. He turned just in time to see a man enter the room. Brown eyes scanned the space with ease, his light brown hair curling slightly at the edges, a trimmed beard adding a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise clean-cut appearance. His swords gleamed at his sides, and the wing leader patch on his flight jacket marked him as someone of significance.

Dain Aetos.

Xaden’s jaw tensed as the man bowed briefly to King Fen and Queen Maraya’s table before striding confidently toward the Legacies.

But what caught Xaden’s attention most wasn’t Dain’s entrance—it was Violet’s reaction.

Her face lit up with unmistakable joy, her hazel eyes bright as she stood abruptly. She didn’t hesitate, moving quickly to meet Dain halfway. She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly as if they were—more than that friends.

“I missed you, Dain,” she said softly, her voice carrying just enough for Xaden to hear.

Xaden felt his jaw tighten further, his fingers gripping his fork with unnecessary force. A wave of irritation swept over him, sharp and unwelcome.

Dain was ushered to a seat next to Violet, and the two quickly fell into an easy conversation. They laughed softly, their voices blending into the hum of the dining hall, and for reasons Xaden couldn’t quite pin down, it grated on him.

Why does this bother me? he wondered, annoyed at himself for even noticing. Dain was just another soldier—competent, yes, but nothing special. Yet the ease with which Violet seemed to relax around him, the way her guard dropped in Dain’s presence, stirred something in Xaden that he didn’t like.

He forced himself to focus on his plate, but his gaze continued to flicker toward Violet and Dain. They ate and talked as if the rest of the room didn’t exist. Xaden couldn’t help but wonder what their connection was.

Before he could dwell further, Crown Prince Halden stood, raising his glass.

“Friends, allies, and honored guests,” Halden began, his voice carrying over the room. “Welcome to Navarre. It is my honor to host this summit and to welcome our distinguished delegates from Poromiel and Tyrrendor. May this gathering forge bonds of trust and cooperation in the days to come.”

Glasses clinked as the room raised a toast, and Xaden found himself glancing at Violet one last time. She raised her glass alongside Dain, her face glowing with quiet contentment.

Xaden drank, but the taste of the wine did little to wash away the bitterness on his tongue.

-DRAKE-

Drake’s eyes never strayed far from Mira Sorrengail.

She sat gracefully at the Legacies Table, sipping her mimosa and speaking animatedly with Halden Tauri and the others. Her laughter rang like a bell as she teased Dain Aetos when he arrived, her tone warm and familiar. Drake’s chest tightened at the sight of her relaxed smile.

It was a sharp contrast to the woman he had met under the moonlight the previous night. Cloaked in shadows, she’d been enigmatic, guarded, and sharp-tongued. But here, bathed in sunlight, Mira Sorrengail was radiant—every bit the daughter of a general and a woman who commanded attention effortlessly.

Drake couldn’t decide which version of her he preferred. Both captivated him in ways no one else ever had.

As Halden stood to give his welcoming speech, Mira’s focus shifted entirely to him. She watched the crown prince with a soft, proud smile that made something uncomfortable stir in Drake.

Then his eyes caught the subtle shift of her fingers, twisting a ring—a ruby ring—on her hand.

His stomach dropped. An engagement ring?

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, unexpected and sharp. He wasn’t sure why the idea bothered him so much—after all, he barely knew her. Yet the possibility that she might already be spoken for gnawed at him, threatening to unravel the fascination he’d tried to keep under control.

Drake forced his attention back to his plate, picking at the remnants of his meal, but his mind was elsewhere. The rest of the brunch passed in a haze of polite conversation and half-hearted responses to Garrick and Syrena’s remarks.

Just as they were finishing, a maid approached their table. She looked nervous, her gaze darting between Garrick and Xaden. Finally, she directed her attention to Xaden and curtsied.

“Your Highness,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. “I apologize for our actions yesterday. Please, I beg you, do not tell anyone you saw us outside the palace.”

Xaden raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Garrick before nodding. “Sure,” he said simply.

Relief washed over the maid’s face. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said again, curtsying deeply before retreating.

“Well,” Garrick said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “That’s interesting.”

Drake’s thoughts, however, were racing. The maid’s words brought him back to last night, to Mira’s whispered warning:

"This conversation never happened."

He glanced back at the Legacies Table. Mira was still there, her face calm and composed as she spoke with Halden and the others.

Drake’s gaze lingered on her as his mind churned. Why had Mira been so adamant about secrecy the night before? And why, despite the questions and complications swirling around her, could he not seem to look away?

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden’s thoughts lingered on Violet Sorrengail’s maid as they roamed the palace grounds after brunch. The maid’s behavior at the bookstore the night before gnawed at his mind—how she’d acted as though Violet needed to be hidden. Why? he wondered.

As they moved through the halls, the inevitable swarm of nobles began. Lords and ladies jostled to introduce themselves, with every nobleman eager to present his daughter to Xaden. He forced a polite smile as introductions came one after another.

It wasn’t long before he noticed the same thing happening to Drake, the same strained expression mirrored on his friend’s face as lord after lord, general after general paraded their daughters before him. Their gazes met briefly over the sea of introductions, and both sighed in silent agreement this was tiresome.

Through it all, a small but glaring detail stood out to Xaden—the Sorrengail sisters had yet to be introduced.

He scanned the room subtly, looking for a glimpse of Violet’s distinct presence, but she was nowhere to be found. Drake, too, seemed to be searching, and soon excused himself, wandering toward the open patio. Xaden followed, Garrick and the rest of their group trailing casually behind, chatting among themselves.

Once on the patio, where other guests strolled in the fresh air, Garrick leaned in, his voice low but teasing. “I think every daughter in Navarre has been introduced to you two, except the Sorrengails.”

“I thought so too,” Drake said, his tone thoughtful, though there was an edge of frustration to it.

Xaden remained silent, his gaze fixed on the gardens as the thought settled in his mind. Why not the Sorrengails?

Before he could dwell further, the Legacies entered the patio, flanked by the King and Queen of Navarre, King Fen, Queen Maraya, and—of all people—General Sorrengail.

The sight of Violet stole his breath. She wore a white sundress adorned with delicate purple flowers, the sunlight catching the soft waves of her hair. She looked effortlessly radiant.

“Beautiful,” Xaden muttered under his breath.

Beside him, Garrick snickered. “Didn’t take you for a romantic, Xaden.”

Xaden shot him a warning glare but said nothing, his focus entirely on Violet as the formal introductions began.

The kings and queens exchanged pleasantries, and then the Legacies were introduced one by one. He shook hands with the Princes, Mira was poised and commanding, her presence undeniable. But it was Violet who held Xaden’s full attention as she stepped forward.

When it was her turn, she met his gaze directly, her eyes holding his with an intensity that made his pulse quicken.

“Your Highness, I am Violet Sorrengail,” she said, her voice clear and unwavering as she curtsied.

Xaden reached out, taking her hand gently in his. “It’s an honor, Miss Sorrengail,” he said, his voice lower than usual. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she held his gaze, unflinching.

A smile tugged at the corner of Xaden’s lips as he released her hand. She’s not easily intimidated, he thought. Interesting.

As Violet stepped back, Xaden felt the weight of her presence lingering. He could still feel the warmth of her hand in his, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself genuinely looking forward to what this summit will hold.

-DRAKE-

The hours after brunch blurred into an endless procession of introductions for Drake. Lords from every corner of Navarre seemed intent on presenting their daughters to him, each more eager than the last. It was an exhausting dance, one he had neither the patience nor the inclination to entertain.

With each new introduction, he found himself growing increasingly irritable. There was no shortage of beauty among the noble daughters, but none of them captured his attention. His thoughts, unbidden, kept drifting back to Mira Sorrengail.

He frowned, realizing something odd: neither Mira nor her sister had been introduced to him.

Drake straightened, his mind racing. Why not them?  "Excuse me," he said avoiding another introduction, his steps purposeful as he moved toward the open patio. He wasn’t sure why it annoys him that every girl in Navarre pushed themselves to get introduced, except for them, he knew he had to find her.

The fresh air of the patio offered a welcome reprieve from the stifling atmosphere inside. Garrick and the others followed at a leisurely pace, chatting among themselves. Drake’s gaze swept the gardens and the gathering crowd, but there was no sign of Mira or her sister.

Garrick leaned in, his voice low but teasing. “I think every daughter in Navarre has been introduced to you two, except the Sorrengails.”

“I thought so too,” Drake said, his tone thoughtful, though there was an edge of frustration to it.

Just as he began to wonder if he’d missed them entirely, the Legacies entered the patio, accompanied by King Fen, Queen Maraya, King and Queen Tauri, and General Sorrengail.

Drake’s breath caught as his eyes found Mira.

She wore a white sundress patterned with delicate pink flowers, the fitted bodice accentuating her figure while the flowy skirt added a touch of effortless elegance. In the daylight, she looked as radiant as she had mysterious under the moonlight the night before. If anything, this new light only deepened her allure.

Standing now, he could fully appreciate the way the sun seemed to favor her, casting a soft glow over her golden-brown hair and illuminating her fiery, intelligent eyes.

As the formal introductions began, Drake watched, his attention focused solely on her. One by one, the Legacies presented themselves, until at last, Mira stepped forward to meet him.

Her eyes found his immediately, locking onto his with an intensity that sent a jolt of recognition through him.

“Your Highness my name is Mira Sorrengail,” she said, her voice poised yet commanding as she curtsied.

Drake’s lips curved into a grin. Her gaze held a warning, sharp and unmistakable: Don’t say a word about last night.

He inclined his head slightly, feigning innocence, though his grin deepened. “So, it’s Mira?” he said, his tone smooth and teasing.

Her glare sharpened, and he could almost hear her unspoken threat.

As if to push her just a little further, he added, “I was wondering who that beautiful woman was.”

He reached for her hand, capturing it gently in his own. Bringing it to his lips, he meant to brush a polite kiss, but his eyes caught on the ruby ring resting on her third finger—not her fourth. Relief flooded him, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

His lips lingered on her hand a fraction longer than propriety allowed, his gaze lifting to meet hers once more.

When he finally released her hand, her eyes held his, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face.

She’s going to be trouble, he thought with a smirk. And for reasons he couldn’t yet name, he didn’t mind at all.

Drake had just released Mira's hand when movement to his left caught his attention. Prince Alic, the second prince of Navarre, had approached Syrena with a smile that could only be described as predatory.

The prince leaned slightly toward Syrena, his tone low and smooth as he said, “And who might this enchanting woman be? A vision such as yours deserves the finest company.”

Drake’s jaw tightened, his cousin’s expression shifting from polite amusement to one of discomfort. He’d seen this performance from Alic before—this wasn’t a harmless flirtation; it was the calculated charm of a man who was used to getting what he wanted.

Syrena, ever the picture of composure, managed a polite smile and a curt reply, but Alic wasn’t deterred. His smile widened, and the glint in his eyes made Drake take a step forward, ready to intervene.

But before he could act, Mira’s voice rang out, sharp and clear.

“Alic,” she called, her tone cutting through the prince’s charm like a blade.

The prince froze, his head turning toward Mira. She stood a few paces away, her hands elegantly clasped in front of her, but the glare she leveled at him was anything but subtle.

Drake noticed the way Alic stiffened under her gaze, his confident demeanor faltering. He scowled, muttering something under his breath before rolling his eyes and stepping back from Syrena. “Fine, Mira,” he said petulantly, as though he’d been scolded by an older sibling.

Mira’s expression softened slightly as she turned to Syrena, offering her a small, reassuring smile.

Drake’s interest piqued further as he watched the interaction. Mira had defused the situation with nothing more than her voice and a look. It was clear she was accustomed to Alic’s antics, and equally clear that Alic respected—or perhaps feared—her enough to back down immediately.

It wasn’t just the authority she wielded over the prince that intrigued him; it was the layers of her character revealed in those brief moments. The poised woman in the flowery sundress had a steely core, one that could command even a royal flirt like Alic.

Drake glanced at Alic, whose expression had soured as he moved on to another part of the patio. Then he looked back at Mira, who was now engaging Syrena in light conversation, as if nothing had happened.

“I see Alic’s charm is as sharp as ever,” Bodhi muttered beside him, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Drake smirked. “Sharp enough to get himself in trouble. But not sharp enough to outmaneuver her.”

Bodhi chuckled softly. “The prince didn’t stand a chance, did he?”

“Not even close,” Drake replied, his eyes lingering on Mira once more. She was a puzzle he found himself more and more eager to solve.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirlwind of faces, titles, and polite conversations that felt more like diplomatic chess than genuine interaction. Drake and Xaden exchanged subtle glances now and then, both silently frustrated at the lack of progress in building any meaningful connections with the legacies.

The Sorrengail sisters, in particular, had become a mystery. Mira and Violet had vanished entirely after the patio introductions, their absence felt keenly by Drake, who had been hoping to learn more about Mira’s role within the legacies—and perhaps tease out more of her sharp wit.

By the time they retreated to the private meeting room reserved for their group, the atmosphere was heavy with the weight of unfinished business. Felix stood at the head of the table, his sharp gaze scanning the room as everyone settled into their seats.

“Let’s debrief,” Felix began, his tone brisk. “First, impressions. Thoughts on the legacies?”

Garrick leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “They keep to themselves. Not exactly welcoming, but not hostile either. Neutral, I’d say.”

“Deliberately so,” Xaden added. “They’re cautious. It’s like they’re watching us as much as we’re watching them.”

Felix nodded. “That aligns with what we know about their group dynamic. They’ve been through a lot together. Trust is hard-earned, and outsiders aren’t invited in easily.”

Drake tapped his fingers on the table, his mind replaying the moment Mira had glared Alic into submission. “The Sorrengails seem to have influence within the group. Mira, especially. She didn’t even need to raise her voice to put Alic in his place.”

Felix’s eyes sharpened. “Interesting. Keep an eye on her, but don’t push too hard. We need them to trust us.”

Garrick snorted. “Trust? They’ve barely spoken to us beyond pleasantries.”

“Which is why dinner will be crucial,” Felix said firmly. He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and flipped through a few pages before continuing. “A warning before we go any further. Be cautious around Dain Aetos.”

Xaden’s jaw tightened at the mention of the name, but he remained silent, his mind flickering back to the moment Violet had run to embrace the man with a beaming smile.

“Our spies have confirmed that Aetos’s signet involves intelligence gathering,” Felix explained. “He can extract information with just a touch—skin-to-skin contact. Reinforce your shields when he’s near, and do not let him touch you, under any circumstances.”

“Good to know,” Garrick said, his tone laced with unease.

Felix’s gaze swept over the room. “We don’t know the full extent of his abilities, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I expect all of you to be on guard.”

Drake nodded, his thoughts turning to Mira again. Was she aware of Aetos’s abilities? Did she trust him, or was she just as wary of him as they now were?

“Anything else we should be aware of?” Xaden asked, his voice calm but firm.

“Yes,” Felix said, closing his notebook. “At dinner, try harder to socialize with the legacies. Find common ground, build rapport, whatever it takes. They’re key to strengthening our alliance here.”

The group murmured their agreement, though the task felt daunting.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden carried the books carefully, their weight grounding him as his thoughts spun around Violet. He’d bought them from the bookstore earlier, the ones she had lingered over but hadn’t taken with her. It was a calculated move—an offering, perhaps, or a tool to spark conversation with her.

Their group moved as one down the grand hallway toward the dining hall. Xaden's eyes swept over the gathering, his gaze immediately drawn to Violet. She had changed into a simple black long-sleeved dress, understated but elegant, much like her sister’s attire. Violet’s dress was paired with a book clutched in her hands, the edge of a dagger peeking out where it was wedged as a makeshift bookmark.

The corners of Xaden’s mouth lifted in a small smile. Of course his Violence would would use a dagger for something as mundane as marking a page. It suited her perfectly.

Their eyes met briefly, and he searched for any flicker of acknowledgment. There was none. Her expression remained neutral, almost distant, as if their earlier encounters had meant nothing at all. It was a stark contrast to the fiery woman he had seen in the bookstore.

When they reached the dining hall, the room was more intimate than earlier gatherings. The grand table stretched across the center, with fewer lords and ladies present. Xaden made sure to position himself directly across from Violet. She didn’t appear to notice, or perhaps she simply didn’t care.

The dinner began smoothly, the hum of conversation filling the room as dishes were served in seamless succession. Violet sat quietly among the legacies, her focus on the food and occasional murmured words to those around her.

Then came the interruption.

A maid approached Violet’s side, leaning in slightly as she addressed her. “Miss Vi, no weapons on the table, please.”

All heads turned to Violet, whose expression shifted into one of mild embarrassment. Without looking, she flicked her hand, and the dagger that had been lying on the table flew with precision across the room, embedding itself into a wooden post with a satisfying thunk.

The maid sighed audibly, muttering a faint “oh miss Violet,” while Violet’s friends burst into laughter, clearly unfazed by the display.

Xaden, however, was thoroughly amused. A smirk played across his lips as he reached for the fabric of his tunic. He tore off a small, clean strip and held it across the table to her.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Use this.”

Violet looked up at him, blinking in confusion, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to discern his intent.

“As a bookmark,” Xaden added smoothly, tilting his head toward the book in her hands.

Understanding dawned on her face, a faint pink creeping into her cheeks as she accepted the strip of fabric. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, her voice quiet but steady.

Xaden leaned back in his chair, pleased. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. For the rest of the dinner, he watched her subtly, noting the way she tucked the fabric into her book, her movements graceful despite her earlier moment of awkwardness.

She might not react to his gaze or give him the satisfaction of a smile, but in that brief exchange, Xaden felt he had nudged the door open just a little.

Xaden tried to focus on the ongoing dinner conversation, but his attention was continually drawn to the woman seated across from him. Violet Sorrengail, with her quiet demeanor and piercing intelligence, occupied far too much space in his thoughts. Since their brief exchange about the makeshift bookmark, she had refused to meet his gaze, her eyes deliberately focused elsewhere.

“Stop staring. The middle Sorrengail can see you,” Garrick muttered, nudging him discreetly.

Xaden blinked, forcing himself to glance away, though not without some effort. His gaze landed on Alic, seated a few chairs down. The second prince of Navarre had a knowing smirk on his face as he leisurely sipped his wine, his sharp eyes catching Xaden’s momentary slip. Beside Alic, Mira Sorrengail sat poised, her expression unreadable, though she seemed to be observing him carefully.

“Prince Xaden,” Mira began, her voice calm but firm, “I’ve heard you’re bonded to a rare blue dragon.”

Xaden inclined his head slightly. “Yes, Sgaeyl is a blue dagger-tail.”

Mira’s lips twitched into a faint, almost indiscernible smile. “Hmm. Interesting,” she said, her tone giving little away. Then, as though deciding the conversation had run its course, she turned to Crown Prince Halden, engaging him in a lighthearted chat.

Dismissed.

Xaden clenched his jaw but said nothing, masking his irritation with a sip of his wine. Mira Sorrengail, much like her sister, was proving to be an enigma.

After dinner, the guests were ushered into a smaller adjoining room for coffee and tea. Xaden’s attention was drawn once more to Violet, who lagged slightly behind her sister. Her gaze was fixed on the head of the table, where a middle-aged, red-haired man was seated.

She tilted her head slightly, her frown deepening as her hand absently clutched the ruby bracelet on her wrist. Xaden followed her line of sight and noticed the man in question—Brennan Sorrengail, though glamoured as someone entirely unremarkable. On his right ear, he wore a single ruby earring, an accessory that matched both Violet’s bracelet and Mira’s ring.

A pattern.

To save Brennan from any unwanted scrutiny, Xaden made his move. He crossed the room swiftly, stepping in front of Violet.

“Violence,” he said smoothly, a teasing edge to his tone, “would you care to walk with me?”

Violet stopped, her frown deepening. “Your Highness,” she said, her voice sharp, “my name is Violet.”

“I know,” Xaden replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But Violence suits you better.” He tilted his head in the direction of her dagger, still embedded in the post from earlier.

Her lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, but a smirk filled with irritation. “No, thank you,” she said flatly, brushing past him without a second glance.

Xaden stood rooted in place, momentarily stunned. In all of his twenty-four years, no one had ever outright rejected him, much less dismissed him so casually.

Behind him, Garrick’s laughter was poorly concealed, and even Alic raised a glass in mock acknowledgment.

For the first time in a long while, Xaden felt thoroughly disarmed. Violet Sorrengail was proving to be far more than he had anticipated.

He clenched his jaw and turned his head slightly. “Liam,” he murmured, voice low enough that no one else would catch it.

Liam, ever sharp and attuned to his commands, leaned in.

“Tell Brennan to take off that damned ruby earring. The way Violet looked at him earlier—she’s suspicious.”

Liam nodded and slipped away, blending into the background effortlessly.

A moment later, Garrick moved into the seat beside him.

“I think you should use those books as leverage,” he muttered.

Xaden exhaled slowly. “I know.”

They made their way to the sitting room, where the others had gathered, and Xaden pretended to engage in conversation with Garrick. His words were mechanical, his focus elsewhere. Specifically, on her.

Violet.

She was across the room, speaking with Rhiannon and Cam, her head tilted slightly as she listened. The warm light from the mage lights cast a golden glow on her silver hair, and he was momentarily distracted by the way she smiled. Not at him. Not yet.

His grip on the chair tightened.

Just then, Mira stood from her seat and excused herself, leaving the room. Drake followed immediately after, as expected. But what Xaden hadn’t expected was Halden rising to follow as well.

Interesting.

He gave a subtle nod to Imogen, who had been waiting for his signal. She moved smoothly, her bag in hand, and passed him the books without a word. The books that Violet had left behind at the bookstore.

Xaden placed them on his lap, flipping one open as if he were actually reading it. He barely glanced at the pages—he didn’t need to. His focus was solely on the moment Violet’s eyes landed on the books.

And then it happened.

Her gaze locked onto them, her amber eyes widening slightly before she quickly masked her reaction.

Garrick, always the opportunist, leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “I didn’t know you read those kinds of books, Xaden.”

All conversation in the room halted as heads turned toward him.

Xaden only shrugged. “Got interested after we saw the girl at the bookstore yesterday.”

Violet shot him a glare that could have melted steel.

“Oh,” Rhiannon chimed in, leaning toward Violet. “Isn’t that the book you like, Vi?”

Violet didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I already asked Dain to buy me a copy.” She smiled at Rhiannon, but Xaden saw past it.

She wanted those books.

He smirked slightly, lifting one of them in offering. “Would you like to borrow mine, Vio—”

“No, thank you.” Her response was immediate, sharp.

Then, before he could say another word, she stood. “I think, I’m going to bed.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Xaden exhaled, running a hand down his face. She was stubborn. But she had reacted. That was enough for now.

“Damn,” Garrick muttered. “That was brutal.”

Xaden only smirked, leaning back in his chair.

-DRAKE-

Drake adjusted his suit in front of the mirror, his movements precise but quick. The debrief had gone longer than expected, leaving him little time to prepare for dinner. He had chosen a sleek black jacket with subtle embroidery along the cuffs, paired with a deep maroon vest that complimented his tan skin. He looked polished, ready to navigate yet another evening of diplomacy and veiled tension.

As he walked down the hallway toward the dining hall, his group fell into step beside him. Ahead, the legacies approached, their presence commanding as always. The groups exchanged polite nods.

Drake’s gaze immediately found Mira. She was dressed simply but elegantly, her dark green gown accentuating her sharp, commanding presence. When he smiled at her, she responded with a brief nod—polite but distant.

That restraint of hers infuriated and fascinated him in equal measure.

He quickened his pace, positioning himself beside her as they walked. “Prince Halden,” Drake said smoothly, striking up a conversation with the crown prince, who was walking on Mira’s other side. Mira’s scent—jasmine and honey—was a subtle distraction that made it difficult to focus on anything else.

Drake longed to lean closer, to inhale her scent deeply, to memorize it. He fought the urge, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. 

The dining hall was grand but intimate compared to previous gatherings, with fewer lords and ladies invited. The kings and queens were seated at a separate table, leaving their group at the main one. Drake was determined to sit beside Mira, but their group’s unspoken arrangement worked against him. Halden took the seat on her right, and Alic slid into the chair on her left, leaving Drake to settle across from her.

He gritted his teeth but kept his expression neutral, his dark eyes darting between Mira and Halden as they interacted. The two of them seemed far too comfortable with each other, their familiarity grating on him.

Drake’s attention sharpened when Mira laughed, her voice light and genuine, in response to her sister Violet’s antics. A maid had reprimanded Violet for having a weapon at the table, and in response, Violet had flicked her dagger toward a nearby post, embedding it with perfect precision.

Mira’s laughter was a rare and beautiful sound, but it only served to irritate Drake further as she hadn’t spared him more than a fleeting glance all evening.

As dinner was served—steak, mashed potatoes, and vegetables—Drake’s focus remained on Mira. She carefully removed all the string beans from her plate, placing them on Halden’s. Halden, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, slid the broccoli from his plate onto hers.

Drake’s jaw tightened at the casual intimacy of the gesture. The ease between them, the unspoken understanding—it was annoying. His grip on his knife tightened, but he forced himself to appear calm, cutting into his steak with deliberate movements.

Mira’s attention eventually shifted to Xaden, seated further down the table. She twisted the ruby ring on her finger—a nervous habit, perhaps, though her composure never faltered.

“Prince Xaden, I’ve heard you’re bonded to a rare blue dragon,” she asked, her tone calm and composed.

“Yes, Sgaeyl is a blue dagger-tail,” Xaden replied smoothly, his voice tinged with pride.

Mira tilted her head slightly, her expression contemplative. “Hmm Interesting,” she murmured, as if filing away the information for later. The she turned her attention to Halden again.

Drake’s irritation flared anew. Was she genuinely interested in Xaden? The thought of her focusing on another man—on anyone but him—was intolerable.

He tore his gaze away from her, forcing himself to engage in a meaningless conversation with Garrick. But his mind stayed fixated on Mira, on the way her attention had drifted to everyone but him.

She was driving him insane, and she didn’t even seem to realize it. Or worse—she did, and she enjoyed it.

After the dinner they were ushered to a small room to have drinks and socialize. Drake was trapped in a conversation with Syrena, Ridoc and Sawyer, but his gaze is on Mira who is sitting on a bench by the window drinking her tea, and while talking to Prince Halden and Alic she would occasionally roll her eyes to what the Alic was telling them. 

As the night drag on

Drake’s gaze followed Mira as she stood, her voice calm yet firm as she excused herself for the night. She gave polite nods to the group, her tone effortlessly composed, but he caught the way her fingers briefly brushed Violet’s arm—a silent exchange, something unspoken passing between the sisters.

"What was that about?" he wondered, watching as Mira turned toward the door, her steps unhurried, graceful as always.

His decision was immediate.

He set down his drink and pushed himself up, stretching lazily as if the idea had only just come to him. "I think I’ll turn in as well."

Syrena shot him a knowing look over the rim of her teacup, but she said nothing. Ridoc smirked, shaking his head. Sawyer only raised a brow before returning to whatever story he had been telling.

Drake didn’t care.

With steady strides, he followed Mira out the door, his longer legs closing the distance between them effortlessly.

"Miss Mira," he called out, his voice a low murmur against the quiet hallway.

She stopped but didn’t turn immediately. “Princess,” he called again.

He could see the subtle way she squared her shoulders before finally glancing up at him, one brow raised in question.

“I’m not a princess,” she said flatly.

Drake smirked. "That’s debatable."

She sighed, shaking her head before resuming her walk. He fell into step beside her.

"I’ll walk you to your room," he said easily.

Mira shot him a sideways glance, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Prince… Drei, was it?" she teased. "I can walk on my own."

Drake nearly stumbled. Was she serious? She had to be messing with him.

"Ah, You spent the whole night avoiding me, and now you are pretending you don’t know my name," he pointed out, watching her carefully for any sign of deception.

She smirked. "Did I?"

He narrowed his eyes, trying to decide if she was truly oblivious or just enjoying frustrating him.

"Either way," he continued, unwilling to let her throw him off balance, "I insist." Then, after a pause, he added with a smirk, "Unless, of course, you have somewhere else to be? Some… nightly activities to attend to?"

Mira stopped walking so abruptly that Drake nearly bumped into her. Before he could react, her fingers curled around his wrist, and in a swift motion, she tugged him into the shadowed alcove beside them.

“Shhh,” she hissed. “Someone might hear you.”

He arched a brow. “And? I thought there was nothing to hide, Princess.”

Mira let out a quiet groan, clearly irritated. “I told you—that didn’t happen.”

“Right,” he drawled, tilting his head as if considering her words. “Then why the secrecy? Why pull me in here?”

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, he swore he saw something flicker in her gaze—annoyance, maybe, but beneath it, something else. Uncertainty?

Drake chuckled, leaning against the wall of the alcove with an easy grace. 

Mira exhaled sharply, clearly unimpressed. “Just—keep your mouth shut,”

“Depends,” he mused, watching her closely. “What do I get in return?”

"You get to keep all your teeth," she deadpanned.

Drake laughed, low and genuine. He liked this side of her—sharp, unyielding, fiercely untouchable. Too bad he had every intention of touching.

Mira glared at him, and for a moment, he thought she might actually hit him. But instead, she took a slow, measured breath and stepped back.

Drake grins, pushing off the wall to stand upright. He closed the distance between them just enough to lower his voice, his tone dropping to something softer, almost intimate. “Alright, I won’t tell your secret,”

“Good. Now get lost.”

“So is that a yes? I can walk you to your room, Princess,” he countered smoothly, watching her reaction.

She narrowed her eyes. “No and Stop calling me that.”

“Make me.”

Mira inhaled sharply, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with tension. He could see it in the way her shoulders stiffened, the way her fingers curled at her sides as if she was resisting the urge to reach for a weapon—or worse, reach for him.

But just as quickly, she exhaled, her expression smoothing into something neutral. Calculating.

“Good night, Prince Drei,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Before he could respond, she turned and strode away, her steps confident and unhurried.

Drake stayed in the alcove, watching her disappear down the corridor.

She was fire—sharp, untamed, and utterly captivating.

And now, more than ever, he wanted to get burned.

-XADEN-

Later that night, Xaden lay in bed, his arms folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t coming—his mind was too preoccupied with her.

He replayed Violet’s reaction to the books over and over again, the way her eyes had widened, how quickly she had masked her interest, and how sharp her rejection had been. It had been obvious—she wanted them.

A smirk tugged at his lips. He could use this to tease her. Maybe hold them just out of reach, make her work for it.

But then another thought crept in, one that wiped the smirk off his face entirely.

Dain Aetos.

The idea of him buying Violet those books made something hot coil in Xaden’s chest. He hated it. Dain didn’t get to do things like that for her. He didn’t get to be the one providing her with something she wanted.

Xaden sat up abruptly, exhaling sharply.

He was not letting Dain Aetos be the reason Violet got those books.

Standing, he grabbed a scrap of parchment and pen from his desk with practiced strokes, he scrawled a note:

You are welcome, Violence. – X

His smirk returned.

Summoning his shadows, he let them slither from his fingertips, reaching out beyond the confines of his room. He knew it was forbidden—his signet was supposed to be a secret. But he had to do this.

His shadows slithered through the halls, stretching and searching until they located her room—on the opposite end of the palace, tucked into the family wing.

Of course.

Xaden barely hesitated. Grabbing the books, he moved with silent precision through the halls, his shadows keeping watch. He reached her room through the balcony without a sound, slipping inside with ease.

Her scent lingered in the air—something warm and unmistakably her. He forced himself not to linger on it.

Crossing the room, he placed the books carefully on her desk, setting the note on top.

He glanced toward her bed. She was curled up beneath the blankets, her silver hair spilling across the pillow. Peaceful.

For a fleeting moment, he let himself look at her, his chest tightening with something he refused to name.

Then, as silently as he came, he slipped back into the shadows and disappeared.

Violet would wake to find the books waiting for her.

And she’d know exactly who left them.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the visitor's wing, illuminating the long dining table where the Tyrrendor and Poromiel delegates were having breakfast. Plates were filled with freshly baked bread, fruit, and cured meats, while the scent of strong coffee and spiced tea lingered in the air.

Xaden sat at the head of the table, sipping his coffee in silence, half-listening to the conversation around him. His mind, however, was elsewhere—on the books he had left in Violet’s room last night and the inevitable reaction she’d have when she found them.

Across from him, Garrick smirked over his own cup. "So, what's the plan with the books? Using them as leverage to get closer to Violet?"

Xaden exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Can’t. I already gave them to her."

Garrick nearly choked on his coffee. "You what?" He set his cup down with a thud, laughing. "You folded that fast? Damn, I thought we’d at least get some amusement out of this."

Xaden rolled his eyes. "She wanted them." I don't know why but I wasn’t going to let Aetos be the one to give them to her.

Garrick hummed in amusement. "Still, we could use the books as leverage. Just… a different kind."

Xaden arched a brow but said nothing.

Before the conversation could continue, Brennan walked in, followed by Drake.

"You almost got caught by Violet last night," Xaden told Brennan the moment he sat down.

Brennan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I know. I forgot to take it off."

Drake, who had been pouring himself coffee, looked up with mild curiosity. "Take what off?"

Brennan exchanged a glance with Xaden before leaning back in his chair. "My earring."

Drake raised an eyebrow. "I’m going to need more than that."

Brennan set his cup down. "It’s a family thing," he explained. "Our father gave our mother jewelry every time she gave birth. All rubies. For me, it was earrings. When Mira was born, he gave her a ring. When Violet was born, the bracelet. My mother gave me the earrings when I turned twenty. I assume she did the same for Mira and Violet."

Drake listened intently, his sharp gaze flickering with interest. "So it is like a family heirloom?"

"Violet saw my earring last night," Brennan admitted. "And the way she looked at me… She’s suspicious. If she figures it out, it could be a problem."

Before anyone could respond, a firm knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

The room fell silent.

Xaden’s instincts kicked in immediately as he exchanged a glance with Garrick. Brennan and Drake straightened in their seats, their expressions sharpening.

The knock came again.

Xaden set down his coffee. "Well," he muttered, "let’s see who wants to ruin breakfast."

Garrick smirked. "Maybe it’s Violet, come to return your gift."

Brennan frowns "What gift?"

Xaden mouths later then shot Garrick a glare before standing and heading for the door.

When he opened the door, he was met with the grinning faces of Ridoc and Sawyer.

"Morning, Your Highness and guests," Ridoc greeted, rocking back on his heels. "Hope you slept well because today, you’re getting the grand tour of the palace."

Sawyer, standing beside him, gave a more composed nod. "It’s customary for visiting dignitaries and allies to familiarize themselves with the palace grounds. We’ll be guiding you through the main halls, guest wings, and the key strategic points in case of—well, let’s hope there’s no need for strategy while you’re here."

They were friendly, too friendly. Xaden kept his expression impassive as he exchanged a glance with Drake and Brennan before stepping aside to let them in.

As they walked through the grand halls of Navarre’s palace, Ridoc took on the role of the comedic tour guide, pointing out various features with exaggerated enthusiasm. "And here, we have the Hall of Staring Ancestors—portraits of past rulers who will silently judge your every move as you pass."

Sawyer, the more serious one, was much more informative. "This hall leads to the council chambers, and beyond that is the diplomatic wing where high-ranking visitors stay. You’ll find that—"

Xaden only half-listened, his mind elsewhere. He’d been in palaces before—had seen the grandeur of the palaces, the beauty of the halls in Cordyn. While this palace was impressive, it lacked the sharp edges of home.

Liam, the friendlier one among their group, tilted his head. "So you guys are visiting or staying here?"

Sawyer answered, "Visiting, our rooms are on the same wing as yours."

Xaden’s gaze flicked toward the tower visible just outside the window, a smirk playing at his lips. He already knew where Violet’s room was, but he wanted to probe more. "What about the tower?" he asked casually, nodding toward the structure.

Sawyer followed his gaze. "That’s Violet’s tower. The one adjacent to it is Mira’s."

Xaden hummed in acknowledgment. "Their tower?"

Ridoc, who had been gesturing toward a chandelier, suddenly stopped mid-motion. "Yeah, they’re in the family wing. They live here." He shut his mouth immediately, as if realizing he’d said too much.

Xaden and Drake exchanged a glance. Interesting.

The tour continued, winding through grand halls and marble corridors, until they reached a sprawling patio that overlooked the courtyard.

And there, lounging on the steps like they owned the place, were Violet, Rhiannon, Mira, Prince Halden, Alic, and Cam.

Xaden’s steps slowed.

They were all dressed in pristine, preppy uniforms, their polished boots resting on the stone steps as if the world was theirs to command. The picture of gentry.

And Violet—

Her hair was braided into a crown atop her head, silver strands glinting under the sunlight like woven starlight. She sat with the casual confidence of someone who knew she belonged.

Imogen scoffs and mutters "Preppy Princesses"

Garrick let out a low whistle beside him. "They look untouchable."

Just then a rush of wind tore through the courtyard as a shadow streaked across the sky.

Xaden’s hand instinctively twitched toward his weapons, but before he could react, a black scorpion tail dragon—smaller than his own but still formidable—swooped low and landed gracefully on the stone courtyard with a deep, resonating thud. It's scale is not black like usual black dragons but it's shimmering deep purple.

They all stilled.

"You allow dragons to land in the courtyard?" Liam asked, his tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

Sawyer barely blinked. "Just her," he replied, nodding toward the dragon.

As if summoned, Violet rose to her feet from where she had been lounging on the steps, descending with casual ease toward the dragon. She reached out, fingers scratching beneath its jaw with practiced familiarity. "It’s about time," she murmured, the corner of her lips twitching into the smallest of smiles.

"Andarna is part of your tour," Sawyer explained as if this were an everyday occurrence. "She’s one of Violet’s dragons—does what she wants, goes where she pleases. The only dragon allowed in the courtyard. Do not approach when she’s here."

Xaden narrowed his eyes slightly, studying the creature. One of Violet’s dragons?

Ridoc snorted. "If you think Violet’s a princess, think again. Andarna is the real princess around here."

Xaden might have laughed if he weren’t too busy processing what he’d just heard.

"Wait." Brennan’s voice cut through the moment, sharp with confusion. "You said one of her dragons?"

Sawyer turned to him, completely unfazed. "Oh, you didn’t know?" His brows lifted slightly, as if this wasn’t groundbreaking information. "Violet is bonded to two dragons."

A beat of silence.

Xaden felt his entire body still, his mind grinding to a halt.

No one had ever bonded to two dragons. Ever.

He had spent years studying dragon lore, training alongside the most powerful riders of Tyrrendor, and witnessing feats of strength that defied nature. But this? This was unheard of.

His eyes flicked back to Violet.

She was still there, one hand resting on Andarna’s scales as if the revelation meant nothing. As if she wasn’t standing there, unknowingly shattering every precedent in dragon-riding history.

Drake let out a low whistle, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well," he mused, casting Xaden a knowing glance, "isn’t she full of surprises?"

Xaden barely heard him.

His focus was locked onto Violet, the way she stood beside her dragon—no, one of her dragons—like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like she wasn’t impossible.

But she was.

And, Gods help him, he was starting to think he liked that.

-DRAKE-

Drake took in every word Sawyer and Ridoc said, but his focus remained on one person—Mira.

She had her own tower.

She lived in the palace full-time.

None of it explained why she had been out at night, slipping money to an old man in a darkened garden.

It made no sense. A woman of her status shouldn’t need to move in shadows. If she wanted to help someone, there were a dozen legal, safer ways to do it. But she hadn’t chosen those. She had done it personally, discreetly. Why? 

And then there were the two men who had lifted her off the ground that night.

Drake had scanned every hallway, every training yard, and every patrol they had passed during the tour. But those men were nowhere to be seen. It was as if they didn’t exist.

He clenched his jaw. I’ll find out sooner or later. He should have told the others about what he found out but something in him does not want to. He wants to keep Mira's secret all to himself.

When they finally reached the patio overlooking the courtyard, his gaze found her immediately.

Mira sat on the stone steps, her posture relaxed but regal. She wore a preppy dress uniform, fitted and pressed to perfection, and on her head sat a delicate headband encrusted with jewels—subtle, but enough to resemble a crown. It caught the light, reflecting an almost ethereal glow against her golden-brown hair, now cut just above her shoulders.

She looked like a queen surveying her domain.

And she was completely unaware that she had captured every ounce of his attention.

Before he could think further, a rush of wind tore through the courtyard.

A dragon swooped past them, landing with a resonating thud.

Everyone stilled.

"You allow dragons to land in the courtyard?" Liam asked, amused.

"Just her," Sawyer replied easily.

Drake watched as Violet stood and approached the creature without hesitation, scratching its jaw.

Sawyer gestured toward the dragon. "Andarna is part of your tour. She’s one of Violet’s dragons—does what she wants, goes where she pleases. The only dragon allowed in the courtyard. Do not approach when she’s here."

"If you think Violet’s a princess, think again. Andarna is the real princess," Ridoc quipped.

Drake narrowed his eyes slightly, his mind catching on two words: one of Violet’s dragons.

Brennan’s sharp voice cut through the moment. "Wait. You said one of her dragons?"

Sawyer barely blinked. "Oh, you didn’t know? Violet is bonded to two dragons."

A stunned silence followed.

Drake felt the weight of the revelation settle over them.

No one had ever bonded to two dragons. No one.

His gaze flicked to Mira to see her reaction, only to find her already rising to her feet.

She stepped toward the dragon with no hesitation. Andarna turned her head and nudged Mira’s palm in clear affection.

Syrena, standing beside him, voiced what he was already thinking. "I thought only the rider of the dragon is allowed to be near a dragon."

"That’s right," Sawyer confirmed. "But as we’ve said, Andarna is a princess. She is not like the other dragons." He hesitated. "But sometimes, she listens to Mira."

"And also, Mira is scary, even dragons princess listens to her." Ridoc added.

Drake watched as Mira and Violet scratched the dragon affectionately, Andarna practically purring under their touch.

His chest tightened.

Mira Sorrengail was full of contradictions.

A woman who carried herself like a queen but disappeared into the night for unknown reasons.

A feared woman whose touch could soothe a dragon.

And, Gods help him, he needed to know more.

Drake immediately stiffened when Dain Aetos strode toward their group, a bouquet of white roses in hand.

The others reacted similarly—subtly shifting, straightening, guarded.

They all remembered Felix’s warning.

Dain could read memories by touch.

Drake watched the man closely. He had a polished look, dark uniform crisp, posture confident but not arrogant. Controlled. His gaze, however, was sharp, assessing, taking in their group as if he were cataloging them one by one.

Dain’s lips curled into an easy, polite smile. "Your Highness," he greeted Drake and Xaden first before turning to the rest of them. "I wasn’t introduced yesterday. I’m Dain Aetos, son of Colonel Aetos."

Drake noted the gloves covering his hands as Dain extended one toward him.

Drake shook it, offering a firm but indifferent grip. "Prince Drake Cordella of Poromiel."

Dain nodded in acknowledgment before moving on, greeting the others. Xaden, however, remained silent, his expression brooding.

Drake flicked a glance at Garrick in silent question. Garrick just shrugged, looking equally unimpressed.

When Dain clapped hands with Ridoc and Sawyer in greeting, Ridoc’s eyes went straight to the bouquet. "These came for Mira," he informed them, his tone carrying something close to amusement. Then, without further comment, he excused himself, heading toward where the other legacies lounged.

Ridoc's voice rang across the patio. "Mira! Another batch of flowers for you!"

Drake turned just in time to see Mira glance up from the courtyard, expression immediately shifting into one of annoyance. She rolled her eyes as if this was a common occurrence.

Before Drake could even begin to analyze what that meant, Violet—still leaning against Andarna’s side—spoke up, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "Andarna said to toss it."

Dain, who had been halfway across the patio toward Mira, didn’t hesitate.

He tossed the bouquet mid-air.

Andarna lifted her head, eyes gleaming.

A breath of fire incinerated the white roses instantly, leaving nothing but ashes drifting to the stone floor.

Drake felt his lips twitch.

Mira, however, smiled.

Andarna nuzzled her cheek in response, and Mira murmured, "Thank you, Andarna. Now go to the valley—I think Teine has a sheep for you."

The dragon let out a soft chuff before taking off, wings stirring the air as she lifted into the sky.

Drake watched as Mira dusted off her hands like she had just completed a chore, then turned back to her conversation with the others, utterly unfazed.

His amusement quickly faded as something else settled in its place.

Who the fuck keeps sending her flowers?

-BRENNAN-

Brennan stood at the edge of the patio, gaze fixed on the two women sitting on the steps below.

His sisters.

They were laughing, Mira leaning slightly toward Violet as she whispered something, causing Violet to smirk. Prince Halden, Alic, Cam, and Rhiannon lounged around them, all dressed in pristine uniforms, exuding confidence and power. They looked like they belonged here. Like they owned the world.

It should have filled him with pride.

And it did—but it also filled him with regret.

Gone were the little girls he had promised their father he would always protect.

Violet, no longer the quiet, bookish child clinging to the edges of their family, had bonded two dragons, something unheard of. She was still small, but she held herself like she could take on the world and win. And maybe she could.

Mira, once the fierce but reckless middle child, had grown into a force of nature. She carried herself with the same lethal grace their mother had, her presence commanding enough that even Andarna, the dragon princess, listened to her.

He had missed so much.

The years apart had turned them into women he barely recognized. And yet, looking at them now, he wondered—did they still think of him? Did they miss him, too?

His throat tightened. He clenched his jaw, pushing the thought away.

At least, under the cover of his glamour, he had this moment—to see them, to know they were alive, strong, thriving.

But then his mind snagged on another detail. Why the fuck are they living in the palace?

His frown deepened as he watched Mira roll her eyes at yet another bouquet of flowers sent her way. She didn’t even look surprised—just annoyed.

Who keeps sending her flowers? Is it a persistent ex or suitor?  One she obviously does not like seeing her reaction to the flowers.

His grip tightened on the stone railing. The thought of a guy bothering his sister and he could not do anything about it angers him.

He had been gone too long.

"General Aisereigh ."

He turned to find Felix watching him knowingly.

"The first summit meeting is this afternoon," Felix reminded him. "You’re going to need to focus."

Brennan exhaled, dragging his gaze away from his sisters.

Would they be there, too?

And if so—what the hell were their roles in all of this?

Chapter Text

-BRENNAN-

As a general representing Tyrrendor, Brennan sat stiffly in his assigned seat, his back straight, hands folded over the polished wood of the long table. The summit chamber was arranged in a U-shape—Navarre in the center, Tyrrendor on the right, and Poromiel on the left. King Fen sat at the head of Tyrrendor’s delegation, with Prince Xaden beside him. Across from them, the Poromiel delegates filed into their seats—Queen Maraya, Prince Drake, and the rest of their advisors.

Brennan observed each of them carefully, committing their expressions and body language to memory. This was a rare opportunity—to witness the most powerful forces in the continent gathered in one room, negotiating peace while still assessing one another for weaknesses.

Then came Navarre.

The tension in the room sharpened as King Tauri and Queen Tauri took their seats. General Sorrengail—his mother—sat beside them, impassive as ever. Beside her, General Melgren and the highest-ranking dukes of Navarre took their places, their expressions unreadable.

But Brennan’s attention was stolen the moment they walked in.

Prince Halden, his arm slung lazily over Mira’s shoulder.

Violet’s arm tucked into the crook of Prince Cam's

Brennan blinked, barely keeping his expression neutral.

Just like the reports says His sisters were really here. They question is why?

He glanced at Felix, who gave a slight nod.

Mira looked effortlessly poised, dressed in a fitted preppy uniform, her shoulder-length hair kept in place by a jeweled headband that resembled a crown. She wore boredom like a mask, but Brennan knew her well enough to recognize the sharpness in her gaze.

Violet, by contrast, was all quiet observation, her silver tipped hair braided into a crown, her head slightly tilted as she arrange her things to take notes. Of course she will.

They took their seats without hesitation, Halden and Cam flanking them as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

King Tauri frowned slightly. "Where is Alic?"

Halden smirked, leaning back lazily. "Busy."

At that, Mira, Violet, Halden, and Cam all snorted in unison, like they shared some private joke.

Brennan narrowed his eyes. They weren’t just here to observe. No, his sisters were more than that. Were they being use as pawns in all this? 

The negotiations had begun in earnest.

Brennan sat, his expression carefully neutral, as discussions unfolded around him. Violet, ever the scholar, took notes with quiet efficiency. Occasionally, Cam would lean over to glance at her notes, making a quiet remark that earned a small nod or a thoughtful frown from her. Mira, by contrast, feigned boredom, her chin resting on her hand as if the entire discussion was beneath her interest. But Brennan had grown up with her—he recognized the small shifts in her expression, the subtle tells of someone who was, in fact, paying very close attention.

Beside her, Prince Halden looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers drummed idly against the table, betraying his impatience. Every so often, he would lean in, whispering something to Mira that made her lips twitch in amusement or her eyes narrow in thought.

Brennan frowned slightly.

Since when were they this close?

He searched his memory, trying to recall a time when Mira and Halden had been anything more than childhood acquaintances, linked only by their parents’ positions in Navarre's leadership. But the way they sat—comfortable, familiar—told a different story.

He really had missed so much.

King Fen turned his attention toward Brennan. “General Aisereigh, what is your stance on the joint venture between dragon riders and gryphon fliers? Do you believe it would strengthen our defenses?”

Brennan exhaled slowly, his mind shifting back to the discussion at hand. “I believe it’s a sound strategy,” he said evenly. “Dragon riders and gryphon fliers each have unique strengths in combat. Training together would allow them to learn from one another, covering weaknesses and reinforcing strengths. If we are to present a united front, integrating our forces is the logical step forward.”

The moment he finished speaking, he felt the weight of two stares settle on him.

He looked up—both Mira and Violet were watching him intently.

Violet leaned slightly toward her sister, whispering something too low for him to catch. Mira tilted her head, assessing him, her gaze sharp with consideration.

Brennan forced himself to hold still, controlling his expression.

Beside him, Xaden muttered under his breath, “Be careful.”

Brennan swallowed.

Because in that moment, with his sisters’ scrutiny burning into him, he realized—They are suspicious.

-DRAKE-

Just like the reports had said, the Sorrengail sisters were present at the summit.

Drake leaned back in his chair, his gaze drawn almost instinctively to Mira. Dressed in her formal uniform, with her golden-brown hair neatly held back by a jeweled headband, she looked regal—like she belonged here among kings and generals, effortlessly commanding attention without speaking a single word.

He liked how she looked.

He hated that she looked good beside Prince Halden.

The way they sat, side by side, exuding familiarity, made something simmer uncomfortably in his chest. They both looked bored, yet Drake could tell Mira was listening. Her chin resting on her hand, her fingers traced idle patterns on the armrest of her chair, but her expression changed at key moments—eyes sharpening, lips pressing together. She was engaged, just hiding it well.

What irritated him more, though, was the way Halden leaned in to whisper to her, his arm still draped lazily around her shoulders. And even worse, how Mira tilted her head slightly toward him, listening. Leaning into him.

Drake clenched his jaw.

He didn’t know why it bothered him. But it did.

Then suddenly, Mira and Violet’s attention shifted.

Both were now looking at Brennan.

Mira’s posture changed ever so slightly, her bored mask slipping as she tilted her head, her gaze scrutinizing. There was something unsettling about it—sharp, calculating.

Something inside him stirred.

That gaze—the intensity, the weight of it—he wanted to be the one on the receiving end. Not out of suspicion or scrutiny, but because he wanted Mira to see him, to focus on him the way she was focusing on Brennan now.

It was a ridiculous thought. An irrational one.

And yet, as he watched her, watched how she could make even seasoned warriors uneasy with a single glance—Drake couldn’t deny it.

He wanted to be the target of that gaze.

The meeting ended in a flurry of movement—delegates shifting, people exchanging words, alliances both formal and unspoken reaffirmed in passing conversations.

Drake noticed one of the Navarrian generals making his way toward him, probably to discuss some diplomatic nonsense. He had no interest in that, not right now. Instead, he shifted away, blending into the movement of the room as he set his sights on Mira.

She walked ahead of Prince Halden, Cam, and Violet, her presence commanding despite her silence. There was no denying she held power within their group—not just as a Sorrengail but as herself. And yet… she was on to something. He could tell by the way her shoulders squared, by the slight tension in her movements.

Then he saw who she was stalking toward.

Brennan.

Disguised by glamour but visibly stiff as his sisters approached. They were definitely suspicious.

Drake flicked his gaze to Xaden and gave a subtle nod. Brennan needed help.

Xaden moved before Mira could get too close, stepping in front of Violet. "May I have a word, Miss Sorrengail?" he asked, his voice low but firm.

To everyone's surprise, Violet looks at him icy glare. "Actually I have a bone to pick with you, your highness."

"Very well then." Xaden offers his hand to her smirking. 

Mira’s eyes flickered to Violet shooting one brow at her. "It will be quick," Violet told her. Then she looks at Xaden, scanning him from head to toe with quick precision. Drake saw the moment she assessed him—as if Xaden does not deserve her sister's time.

Mira didn’t look convinced but allowed it, though not before shooting Xaden a sharp glare.

Drake, once again, found himself wanting to be on the receiving end of it.

He stepped forward. "May I also have a word with you, Miss Sorrengail?"

She didn’t even glance at him. "I don't have time for you, your highness," she said flatly.

Drake exhaled through his nose, torn between amusement and irritation.

Then, her focus snapped back to Brennan. "You, however… General…" Her voice held weight, the kind that made men second-guess their footing.

Brennan cleared his throat. "General Brent Aisereigh," he corrected smoothly, but there was a stiffness to it.

Mira’s eyes narrowed, unyielding.

Fortunately for Brennan, Halden draped an arm around her shoulders, utterly nonchalant. "Stop scaring our guest, Mira. Mom wants to have tea," he muttered lazily.

Mira clicked her tongue, exhaling sharply as if weighing her options. Then, with a sigh, she relented.

Before she turned to leave, she looked at Drake—really looked at him this time. And then, to his surprise, she smirked.

A knowing smirk, one that sent a slow, electric pulse through his veins.

She gave him a single nod. "Prince Drei." Then she was gone.

Drake stood there, watching her retreat with that damn smirk still playing on his mind.

He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or intrigued—maybe both.

She was definitely teasing him, pretending not to know his name. He should be irritated, but instead, excitement curled in his chest. It felt like an inside joke between them, unspoken but understood.

A grin tugged at his lips before he even realized it.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Prince Cordella, or I will."

Drake turned his head just in time to meet Brennan Sorrengail’s glare.

Ah. He had forgotten the brother was still beside him.

Schooling his expression into something more neutral, he merely lifted a brow, nonchalant. "Something bothering you, General?"

Brennan didn’t answer, just exhaled sharply, clearly restraining himself. Then, with a muttered, "Now, where is that other prince?" he strode off, moving toward where Xaden and Violet had disappeared.

Drake exhaled, shaking his head.

He was in dangerous waters, and he knew it.

And yet—he found himself wanting to go deeper.

-XADEN-

Violet led him to an alcove, her grip firm, her pace quick. Xaden followed without resistance, half-expecting a discussion about the books. But the moment they were alone, she turned sharply, leveling him with a glare.

"How did you get into my room?"

"Ah, straight to business, Violence?" He smirked, tilting his head.

Her scowl deepened. "Your Highness, again, my name is Violet, and I would like to know how you got into my room."

Xaden chuckled, enjoying her fire. "Let’s just say I have my ways."

She tsk-ed, clearly unimpressed. "I'll have my maid drop off the books later, but I still want to know how."

“They are yours, Violence. Return them all you like I’ll just have them on your desk by night.”

“Your highness, answer my question, How? and Why? Why would you give me those books?”

He shook his head. "They’re yours, consider them as gifts for ruining your book shopping day."

Violet’s eyes widened. Before he could react, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, tugging him closer. Xaden caught a hint of lavender, her presence unexpectedly intoxicating.

"Don’t say a word about that day, your highness never saw me there," she said, her voice low, threatening. "The first time you saw me was at the brunch."

Xaden studied her, amused. She was close now, closer than she probably realized, and though her grip was meant to be intimidating, he found her utterly adorable.

Fine. He’d let her have this—for now.

"Alright," he murmured, his smirk never fading. "How about this, keep the books, and I’ll keep your secret. You weren’t out that day. Do we have a deal?"

Violet’s eyes narrowed, assessing him. Then, with a sigh, she let go of his sleeve. "Fine."

He watched her carefully, his mind turning over the new puzzle before him. Why would she need to keep something like that a secret? 

"Are you not allowed to go out of the palace?" he asked.

Violet's eyes sharpened. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you don’t want anyone to know you were there," he said simply, watching for a reaction.

Her lips pressed into a firm line before she huffed, "Well, it’s none of your business, Your Highness."

Xaden smirked. "Alright, fair enough, but I have another question," He leaned against the wall, deliberately casual. "They say you have two dragons. How did you do that?"

She crossed her arms. "I didn’t do anything. They chose me. End of story."

He arched a brow, intrigued. "You have a lot of questions, Your Highness."

His smirk widened. "Well, I’m intrigued by you. I want to know more." His voice dropped slightly, softer, more sincere. "Please, call me Xaden, no Prince, no your highness, you don’t call Halden, Alic and Cam Prince, don't you?"

For the first time, she hesitated, as if considering it, a voice cut through the moment.

"Prince Xaden, your father is looking for you."

Xaden turned his head to see Brennan stepping into the alcove, his expression unreadable.

With a quiet sigh, Xaden pushed off the wall, casting one last look at Violet. "I’ll see you around, Violence."

She rolled her eyes but didn’t correct him this time.

Somehow, that made his smirk grow, knowing full well this wouldn’t be their last confrontation. And he was looking forward to the next.

Xaden barely took a step before Brennan fell into stride beside him, his tone sharp and laced with suspicion. "What was that about?"

Xaden arched a brow but didn’t slow his pace. Here we go.

"A conversation, Bren. You know, people do that sometimes."

Brennan scoffed, crossing his arms as they walked. "Privately? Why?"

Xaden sighed, stopping in his tracks to face the overprotective brother. "Relax, General. I just had a few questions and I did it to save you."

Brennan's eyes narrowed. "Questions about what?"

Xaden smirked slightly. "Are you always this protective, or is it just when a man so much as breathes near your sisters?"

"Answer the damn question, Xaden."

Xaden tilted his head slightly, debating how much to say. He could push Brennan’s buttons just for fun, but something told him this wasn’t the time.

"Fine. I was curious about her."

Brennan’s glare darkened. "Stay away from my sister."

Xaden chuckled. "Can’t make any promises, General."

Brennan exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath as they resumed walking. Xaden smirked to himself. He wasn’t planning on staying away from Violet Sorrengail—not when she was proving to be the most intriguing person in Navarre.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden sat through yet another meeting, his patience wearing thin. Two days had passed, and still, nothing was decided. The summit felt more like an endless battle of egos rather than a true effort to unite against the growing Venin threat.

King Tauri, stubborn as ever, refused to acknowledge the existence of the Venins, dismissing every account and report brought before him privaely. It was maddening. Tyrrendor was lucky to have its own wards, but they only covered half of the territory. Poromiel, on the other hand, had none. Their forces were dwindling with each gruesome battle. It was one of the reasons Poromiel was pushing for an alliance with Navarre—they needed access to the wards, the additional riders, and most importantly, the dragons.

Felix, seated beside him, leaned over and muttered, "This is a damn circus."

Xaden smirked but didn’t disagree. He recounted Felix's observations last night's meeting.

"Prince Halden, Cam, Violet, Mira, and sometimes Alic are always present, but they don’t speak. It’s like they’re being prepared for their roles, the question is what are their roles, but they obviously have the power to influence."

Xaden tapped his fingers against the polished wood of the table, considering. The way Mira and Violet conducted themselves was different from the other royals. They observed, listened, and—most notably—waited.

Brennan, who sat across from him, exhaled sharply before whispering, "Do you think they’re grooming my sisters? "

Xaden met his gaze and felix nodded slightly. "It’s a possibility, Bren. Mira has been seen often having tea with Queen Tauri, and Violet… well, she has two dragons bonded to her. That alone makes her indispensable."

Brennan scowled, his grip tightening around his chair’s armrest. "They’re using them."

"Or planning to use them," Xaden corrected, though he wasn’t sure which was worse.

His gaze flickered to where Mira sat, regal and unreadable, her chin resting against her hand as she listened to the political back-and-forth. Next to her, Violet was quietly taking notes, but Xaden had learned that her silence was far from passive. She wasn’t just listening—she was absorbing.

Xaden exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing.

This summit wasn’t just about war. It was about power, and it seemed that Mira and Violet were right in the center of it.

Xaden rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness as they took a much-needed coffee break.

That’s when he heard it.

"I don’t know why these spoiled brats are even here. They don’t belong in this meeting." The words were uttered in Tyrish, he turned his head slightly, just in time to see Suri, one of Tyrrendor’s council members, sneering in the direction of the Sorrengail sisters.

"Suri," Brennan’s voice cut in, sharp with warning.

Xaden followed Brennan’s gaze toward where Mira and Violet were seated.

They weren’t just looking at Suri.

They were glaring at her.

The intensity in their gazes made Xaden’s brows rise slightly. Could it be…? Did they understand what had just been said? Brennan speaking Tyrish was one thing—Xaden had known that. But the sisters?

He leaned toward Brennan. "Can they speak Tyrish?"

Brennan exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line. "We were taught several languages, but I don’t know their proficiency in each of them, since I'm... away."

"Several?" Drake echoed, his curiosity piqued.

Brennan nodded. "My father, Asher Sorrengail, was a scribe and a Lieutenant Colonel. He oversaw our education, taught us languages."

Xaden’s gaze shifted back to the younger Sorrengail sister.

Violet.

The thought of her speaking Tyrish—his language—sent an unexpected thrill through him. He would love to hear it, to know how she sounded when shaping the words.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

If she understood Tyrish, then she’d just heard exactly what Suri had said.

And judging by the fire in her violet eyes, she had definitely understood.

-DRAKE-

Drake leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, as Brennan reeling the fact that the Sorrengail siblings had been taught several languages. The revelation was intriguing, though what really caught his attention was the thought of Mira speaking his language—Korovish. Now that would be sexy. But Korovish and Tyrish were vastly different, just as Poromiel and Navarre had been on opposite sides for generations where as Tyrrendor just got their independence.

He glanced at Mira again, studying her. Could she speak it? He filed the thought away for later. He would find out.

The meeting dragged on, filled with more posturing and arguments, tedious at best and infuriating at worst. Hours upon hours of political maneuvering, and yet, no real decisions had been made, but eventually, it ended for today. Drake expected the legacies—Mira and Violet—to slip away as they always did.

But they didn’t.

Instead, they remained in the room, standing with their mother.

Lilith Sorrengail was an imposing woman, even when silent. And right now, she was far from silent.

Her piercing gaze turned to Suri, pinning him in place with an icy stare so sharp it could cut through steel.

Drake felt it before he even registered what was happening.

The temperature in the room dropped.

No—froze.

A biting chill slithered through the air, pressing against his skin like an unseen force. His breath fogged slightly as the air thickened with something unnatural.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

"Who the fuck pissed off General Sorrengail?" one of the Navarrian generals muttered under his breath.

Drake exhaled sharply as realization struck him.

Lilith Sorrengail wasn’t just a decorated general—she was a Storm Wielder.

That explained the sudden frost in the air, the way the temperature had plummeted at her anger. Damn.

He turned his attention back to Mira just as she leaned in and whispered something to her mother. Whatever she said made Lilith’s gaze flicker briefly before she gave a small nod of approval.

And just like that—the cold vanished.

The room returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.

Drake glanced at Xaden and Bodhi, both of whom had felt it too.

Mira sat back in her seat, composed and calm, as if she hadn’t just tamed a storm with a few whispered words.

Drake smirked to himself.

-XADEN-

Xaden lounged lazily in one of the seating areas in their wing, arms draped over the back of the couch as he exhaled through his nose.

"This summit is a damn endurance test," he muttered, shifting his gaze to Drake, who looked equally bored.

Garrick chuckled from his seat across the room. "The politics of it all not to your liking, your highness?"

"Not when it’s just a show with no real movement." Xaden scowled. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to speak to Violet since their last conversation. The legacies were being kept too tight, restricted to their side of the palace when not in the meetings.

Felix strolled in, shaking his head. "We should at least have a chance to mingle with them. We’ll propose something tomorrow," he said, dropping into a chair.

"Something actually useful, for once," Xaden muttered.

Garrick stood and stretched. "Wanna spar?"

"Sure," Bodhi replied, standing as well.

Xaden and Drake exchanged glances before silently pushing off the couches. A good fight would be a welcome distraction.

The training gym was already occupied when they arrived. Rhiannon, Sawyer, and Ridoc were deep in sparring matches, their movements fast and precise. Xaden leaned against a pillar, arms crossed as he observed them.

"They’re good," Bodhi muttered, watching as Rhiannon knocked Ridoc on his back with an impressive leg sweep.

"Yeah," Garrick smirked. "But we’re better."*

Xaden huffed a quiet laugh as they stepped onto the sparring mats. Bodhi and Garrick squared off first, and it wasn’t long before they drew a crowd. As expected, the foreigners sparring drew interest—whispers and quiet murmurs spread around the onlookers, some openly gossiping about them.

After Garrick managed to land a final hit on Bodhi, ending their match, Xaden pulled his shirt off without a second thought, rolling his shoulders as he prepared to spar Drake. He caught the hushed giggles and exchanged glances from some of the watching girls but ignored them, tuning everything out except his opponent.

Drake did the same, his expression unreadable as they circled each other, muscles tensing, waiting for the first move.

Xaden smirked.

Finally, something worth his time.

-GARRICK-

The clash of fists and footwork echoed through the training hall as Xaden and Drake sparred, both relentless, neither yielding an inch. Each strike was met with an equally powerful counter, their speed and precision unmatched. They were enjoying themselves—burning off the frustration of days spent idle in endless meetings.

But it wasn’t just the fight that had the crowd’s attention.

Garrick rolled his shoulders, stretching out the stiffness from sitting too long. Just then, movement near the entrance caught his eye. His gaze flicked to the doorway, where two striking figures entered the gym—Mira and Violet Sorrengail.

He nudged Bodhi. "Look who just walked in."

Bodhi turned his head slightly, then smirked. "Well, well. It seems like we have VIP audience."

The sisters were dressed in long, black casual dresses that hugged their figures perfectly—effortlessly commanding attention without even trying. Mira, as always, exuded quiet authority, her gaze sharp as she took in the scene. Violet stood beside her, her expression unreadable, but her eyes flickered with curiosity.

Garrick had known many beautiful women, but these two were different. He admits he too found them attractive. He wasn’t blind though—both Xaden and Drake were completely, hopelessly smitten. He had never seen Xaden so drawn to a woman before, so hungry for her attention, he fucking folded and gave her the books they should use as leverage. And Drake? The prince who barely spared a glance at women who threw themselves at him? He could not stop staring at Mira Sorrengail who ignores him completely.

And from the way the sisters watched, with measured intrigue, This is good, Garrick thought. At least this time my friends have caught their attention too .

But Xaden and Drake, caught up in the thrill of the fight, hadn’t noticed them yet.

Garrick smirked. "Water break!" he called out, stepping forward.

Neither stopped.

"I think you two should take a break and maybe look around?" Bodhi added, glancing pointedly toward the far end of the room.

Still, the two combatants remained locked in.

Then, salvation came in the form of Liam, who arrived beside Garrick and Bodhi, his usual bright energy radiating through the room.

"Hey, Mira! Violet!" Liam called, waving enthusiastically.

That did it.

Xaden and Drake halted instantly, breathing hard, muscles taut, but no longer focused on each other. Their heads snapped toward the source of Liam’s voice, toward where the Sorrengail sisters stood.

"That made it," Bodhi muttered under his breath, watching as both princes’ expressions shifted—something intense flickering beneath their exteriors.

Garrick folded his arms, amused. 

The four of them—Garrick, Drake, Xaden, and Bodhi—turned their attention to the Sorrengail sisters, who were now smiling at Liam like they had been friends for years. Liam, of all people, had somehow cracked the code, casually chatting with them while the two princes struggled to even get close.

Garrick exchanged looks with Bodhi, both equally dumbfounded.

"How the hell did Liam get to know them while these two are still standing here sulking?" Bodhi muttered, shaking his head.

Drake and Xaden were completely transfixed, their gazes locked onto Mira and Violet as if they were the only people in the gym. The intensity in their stares was almost comical—silent, awestruck admiration that neither of them even attempted to hide.

Someone in the crowd whispered, "Of course they’re interested in the Sorrengail sisters. I knew it."

Drake’s eyes narrowed. "How long has she been here?" he murmured.

Xaden turned to him, frowning. "She?"

Drake raised an eyebrow, as if the answer was obvious. "Mira, of course."

Xaden’s lips curled into a smirk. "Good. I’m interested in Violet."

Garrick and Bodhi groaned simultaneously.

"You two are idiots," Bodhi scoffed. "While you were sulking in your own misery, Liam went ahead and befriended them."

Drake’s jaw tensed, Xaden’s fingers twitched—both clearly ready to make their move.

But just as they took a step forward, the doors to the gym swung open.

Prince Halden and Cam strolled in, effortlessly commanding attention. And in their hands? Iced coffees.

For the sisters.

Halden walked straight to Mira, a charming smile on his face, and handed her a drink before casually slinging an arm around her shoulders. Cam, on the other hand, grinned at Violet and playfully pinched her cheek before offering her coffee as well.

The sisters smiled—smiled—at the princes and accepted the drinks without hesitation.

"Thank you," Mira said smoothly, her voice calm, unaffected.

Violet gave Cam a teasing glare but took a sip anyway, rolling her eyes with a small laugh.

Drake and Xaden went rigid.

Liam, Rhiannon, Sawyer, and Ridoc said their goodbyes as the Sorrengail sisters followed Halden and Cam out of the gym, walking away like they belonged with them. Like this was normal.

Drake’s expression darkened as he watched Halden lead Mira out.

Xaden’s jaw ticked as he stared after Violet, eyes unreadable.

Garrick and Bodhi?

They just leaned back and enjoyed the show.

"Well, that was fun," Garrick muttered under his breath, biting back a smirk.

Bodhi chuckled. "Oh, this is gonna be very entertaining, want to bet who Brennan will kill first?"

-DRAKE-

Back in their seating room, Drake lounged on the couch, arms crossed, his mind replaying the moment Mira had smiled at Liam—an actual smile, not a smirk, not a look of disdain.

That woman barely looked at him most of the time, and when she did, it was usually accompanied by some sarcastic remark or a pointed glare. Yet, there she was, all smiles with Liam like they had been longtime friends.

Xaden sat forward, elbows on his knees, his expression unreadable but his tone sharp. "Explain."

Liam, leaning against the armrest of the couch, tried and failed to hide his amusement. His lips twitched, eyes dancing with mischief as he looked between the two irritated princes.

Drake exhaled, running a hand through his damp curls. "Yeah, I’d like to know, too. How the hell did you befriend them? Mira barely acknowledges my existence, yet she was smiling at you."

"Not just smiling—" Bodhi cut in, grinning. "They looked comfortable with him."

Drake shot him a glare, but Bodhi just laughed.

Liam finally caved under their stares and shrugged. "Well…after the tour the other day I made friends with Ridoc and Sawyer first, then Rhiannon. They invited me to their sparring session—" he gestured to Xaden and Drake "—which, might I add, are nice people, you two are so focused on the Sorrengail sisters you forgot about the other friends."

Drake narrowed his eyes, unimpressed.

Liam smirked and continued. "After sparring, we were lounging in the courtyard, and I was carving when the sisters approached. Violet saw my miniature sculpture of my dragon and said she liked it. Then she asked if I could make her a set of bookends with Andarna’s features."

Xaden’s head snapped up. "She commissioned you?"

Liam nodded. "Pretty much. And before I knew it, they invited me to their lounge room."

Drake leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "And Mira? She actually talked to you?"

Liam grinned. "Oh yeah. Mira’s cool. She has a whole collection of wine in their lounge room and even made me drink a glass."

Drake felt his eye twitch. "This all happened in just a day?"

Liam nodded, the smugness radiating off him. "Yep."

Drake and Xaden exchanged a look.

Bodhi snorted. "Face it, you two have been outplayed by Liam."

Drake groaned, leaning back against the couch, while Xaden muttered a curse under his breath.

Drake still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Liam—of all people—had befriended the elusive Sorrengail sisters in a single day. Meanwhile, he had spent days trying to get Mira’s attention, only for her to act like he was not even there. The irritation simmered under his skin as he stormed into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

"She’s cool, huh?" he muttered, throwing himself onto the chair near the window, running a hand down his face.

Then, a sharp whistle cut through the evening air.

Drake immediately stilled.

The sound came from the garden below. He leaned forward, careful to stay hidden behind the curtain as he peered down. Two men lurked beneath the shadows of a tree, their stances too disciplined, too deliberate to be random visitors. His eyes narrowed as recognition settled in—these were the same men who had been with Mira the first night he met her.

A few moments later, the sound of soft footsteps on the stone path reached his ears. Then, there she was.

Mira moved with effortless confidence, her long black dress hugging her curves in a way that teased him mercilessly. The sway of her hips, the ease of her stride—it was enough to make something in his chest tighten.

The two men straightened immediately, bowing slightly as she approached.

They’re showing deference to her.

One of them pulled a folded note from his pocket and handed it to her. She took it without hesitation, scanning the contents quickly before nodding in approval.

"I’ll see you two tonight," she said.

"Of course, Captain," one of them replied.

Drake froze. Captain?

He had suspected Mira had a position of command, but hearing it confirmed—seeing the way these men deferred to her—stirred something inside him. Respect, admiration… and something much darker.

As the two men disappeared into the night, Mira turned and walked back inside, her dress swaying with every step, completely unaware of the eyes tracking her every move.

Drake sat back, his mind already working. Tonight, huh?

Whatever she was doing, he was going to find out.

And he was going to tag along.

Chapter Text

-MIRA-

Lunch with her mother and Violet was a rare occasion these days, considering how busy Lilith Sorrengail was with the Leadership Summit. Mira and her sister had been equally swamped, pulled in different directions, expected to attend meetings with the together with the princes instead of their usual classes and private combat lessons.

Mira didn’t mind. If anything, she preferred it. She liked strategic thinking, analyzing battle movements, dissecting political plays. It was a challenge she enjoyed—mostly in theory. If her mother permits she’d go to battlefields herself. 

Except for the part where she had to share space with certain visitors.

They were halfway through their meal when Lilith casually asked, “So, what do you think on our visitors?”

Mira stabbed a piece of roasted potato with more force than necessary, thinking of a particular visitor with black hair and amber eyes. Prince Drake Cordella.

He was annoying. He is the worse of them.

She hadn’t forgotten how he confronted her when he caught her sneaking out on their first night here, how he’d leaned against the wall like he had all the time in the world, smirking as if he owned the place when he is just a visitor.

“We like Liam, he is cute and friendly. Don’t like that judgmental Suri—who I promise to put in her place—the rest I guess are…Interesting?” she said finally, though the last word tasted reluctant.

Violet snorted softly beside her. Mira ignored her.

Lilith smirked, sipping her wine. She knew that look. Her mother was enjoying this, she'd promise her mother that she will put Suri in her place for calling them spoiled brats during a meeting. 

Mira scowled and pushed on. “When are they leaving?”

Lilith sighed, setting her glass down. “If everything goes well, until the end of the month.”

Mira bit back a groan. Great. Fantastic.

"It will take a while then," Violet muttered, stabbing at her food. "The meetings go on and on, achieving nothing but useless discussions."

Mira hummed in agreement. Violet was right—the so-called summit was nothing more than a grand stage for clashing egos. Meaning it would be weeks before she could sneak out again without the threat of being seen by that nosy Prince Cordella.

Lilith, of course, wasn’t finished. “How about you, Violet?”

Mira smirked, turning her attention to her sister.

Oh, this should be good.  

She’d also seen how that broody Prince of Tyrrendor looked at Violet. He wasn’t exactly subtle, even if he thought he was.

Violet shrugged, far too casual. “I don’t really have an opinion, Mom.”

Mira arched a brow. Really? She knows her sister so well, she is attracted to that Prince. 

She leaned forward. “Didn’t you have a bone to pick with that handsome Prince of Tyrrendor?”

Violet shot her a glare, her grip tightening on her fork. “Mira, its nothing.”

Mira didn’t believe her for a second.

Lilith, ever the tactician, simply smiled curtly at them both. “Well, they want to get to know you. Maybe you can invite them to your activities—practice your diplomacy.”

Mira barely had time to scoff before her mother added, “There will also be a ball next weekend.”

Both sisters groaned in unison. “Mom!”

Lilith ignored their protests. “You can leave early, but I want you to dance at least once, Violet. Twice for you, Mira.”

Mira scowled. “Why twice?”

Her mother didn’t even blink. “How else would you meet other people, if you will ignore everyone,” Then, with a pointed look, she added, “And Mira—please don’t ignore your suitors, give them time of your day.”

The way she said it, like a command, had Mira gripping her knife a little tighter. 

She forced a smile. “Of course, Mother.”

But inside?

Over my dead gorgeous body.

-VIOLET-

After lunch, Violet and Mira strolled through the grand halls of the palace. Normally, they would meet their friends for coffee, but Halden and Cam had gone out, promising to bring them iced coffees when they returned.

Violet sighed. She missed going out.

It had been a year since their mother pulled her out of Basgiath and forbade her from leaving Calldyr. With Mira, it has been three years since she had any real freedom. 

She still remembered the look in their mother’s eyes that day—the fear. Palpable.

Losing both her husband and son in two years had changed Lilith Sorrengail in ways neither she nor Mira could fully grasp.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mira’s voice.

“Would you like to join Rhi, Sawyer, and Ridoc? They’re at the gym. I want to throw some daggers.”

Violet glanced down at their outfits, they both wore sleek black maxi dress that clings to their form. “Sure,” she said, adjusting the daggers strapped to her thighs.

Should’ve worn a dress with a slit.

Not the most practical outfit for throwing daggers, but she’d make it work.

And honestly? It had been far too long since they had done anything remotely fun. The endless cycle of meetings, diplomacy, and posturing had drained her. The only highlight of her days lately was escaping into new books at night—books gifted to her by none other than Xaden Riorson.

Every day, she saw him during the meetings. Every day, he was there—watching, listening.

And every day, she found herself drawn to him a little more.

As they stepped into the gym, Mira let out a low whistle. “It’s crowded today.”

Violet nodded, scanning the room. “More people than usual.”

Then, they saw why.

At the center of the gym, Prince Xaden and Prince Drake were sparring—both half-naked.

The sight was enough to make the entire room pause.

Both men were built like warriors, their muscles shifting with every precise movement. Xaden’s tawny skin gleamed with sweat, his form honed like a blade, while Drake’s darker tan accentuated the sheer power behind each strike. Their arms and chests were all corded muscle, their footwork precise and lethal.

Violet swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the dryness in her throat.

She cast a sideways glance at Mira, wondering if her sister was feeling the same way.

Mira’s parted lips and slightly dazed expression confirmed it.

And they weren’t the only ones—everyone in the gym was gawking, entranced by the battle unfolding before them. The way Xaden and Drake moved, their speed, the raw force behind their strikes—it was mesmerizing.

Violet forced herself to speak. “Mira, we’re supposed to be throwing daggers.”

Mira barely acknowledged her, still staring. “I know… just wait,” she muttered, her voice oddly breathless.

Violet wasn’t sure which of the two men had Mira’s attention more—Drake or Xaden—but she didn’t blame her. Gods.

A familiar voice cut through their trance.

“So… you see something you like?”

Sawyer.

Violet nearly jumped as she, Mira, and their friends emerged from their daze.

“N-No… we were just—” Violet stammered. Then she frowned. “Wait, what were we doing?”

Mira, still watching, cleared her throat. “Learning their fighting style.”

“Sure you are,” Rhi teased, smirking.

“I wonder what your mom would think,” Ridoc added, snickering.

“Come on, you can’t blame them,” Sawyer chuckled.

Then, a loud voice broke through the haze.

“Mira! Violet!” Liam, their new blue eyes blonde friend.

The spell shattered. Both princes stopped sparring.

Violet felt their eyes on her—on them. Her skin prickled with awareness, but she forced herself to focus on Liam, determined to ignore the weight of Xaden’s gaze.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden strolled toward the dining hall with the rest of his group, his hands shoved into his pockets. The usual evening chatter surrounded him, but his focus was elsewhere.

Drake had excused himself, claiming he was sick. Like fuck he was. Xaden had known him too long to believe that lie. Drake never got sick. He was probably holed up in his room again, scribbling in that damn journal of his.

When they reached the dining table, he immediately noticed the limited company. Only Mira, Halden, Cam, and Alic were seated.

Xaden slid into his usual seat, the one that conveniently placed him across from Violet.

He leaned back, scanning the room. Sawyer, Ridoc, and Rhiannon were at a nearby table. But no Violet.

Reading, maybe? He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor, waiting.

A few minutes later, the doors finally opened.

And there she was.

Walking beside none other than Dain Aetos.

Xaden’s jaw tightened instantly.

She was still wearing the same black dress from earlier, the one that hugged her in all the right places. His gaze traced every curve instinctively before something else caught his attention—Aetos’ jacket draped over her shoulders.

Does she even know what he is? Xaden thought bitterly. A memory reader? Did she trust him with her secrets? Their parents were close, his father being one of her mother’s aides. That connection ran deep, deeper than Xaden liked.

Dain pulled out Violet’s chair for her, a chivalrous little move that made Xaden grind his teeth. She sat, then casually slipped off Dain’s jacket, placing it over the backrest.

That’s when her hair unraveled.

Long, dark brown strands cascaded down her back, the silver ends catching the dim candlelight. The waves were still curled from her usual braids, a little untamed, a little wild.

Xaden swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

He wanted to touch it. Just once. To feel if it was as soft as it looked. Instead, he curled his fingers into a fist under the table, forcing himself to tear his gaze away.

“Are you okay, Your Highness?” Garrick’s voice broke through the haze, snapping Xaden out of his thoughts. He barely realized how long he had been staring at Violet.

“I’m fine,” he said curtly, cutting off the conversation before it could go any further.

The dinner continued, and Garrick turned his attention to Dain, striking up a casual conversation.

“You’re a third-year at Basgiath, aren’t you?” Garrick asked.

Dain nodded. “Yes. Wing leader. It keeps me busy, flying back and forth between Basgiath and Calldyr for the summit.”

Stay in Basgiath, Xaden thought bitterly.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur, his focus drifting constantly back to Violet. The way she moved, the way she laughed at something Mira whispered to her, the way she avoided looking in his direction.

After the meal, Xaden found himself wandering outside, the crisp night air doing little to cool the fire burning inside him.

Then he saw her.

Violet stood alone on the balcony, bathed in silver light, her hair flowing in the gentle breeze. The strands shimmered under the moon, wild and free, no longer confined to her usual braids.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he was behind her.

His hand moved on its own, sliding through her hair, fingers grazing the silken strands. He was entranced, powerless to stop himself.

She stiffened at the touch and turned to face him.

“Your Highness,” she said, voice steady but questioning. “May I help you?”

She was breathtaking up close, her features soft yet sharp, strong yet delicate.

“I told you to call me Xaden,” he murmured, his voice lower than intended.

“We’re not that close, Your Highness,” she countered, tilting her chin up ever so slightly in defiance.

“We’re close enough. I bought you books.”

A flush crept up her neck, her gaze flickering away.

He couldn’t help himself. He has to know. “Is Aetos your boyfriend?”

Her sharp eyes snapped back to him.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Your Highness.”

He scoffs, as she turned away again, and silence stretched between them. He didn’t move, just watched the curve of her profile, the way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks.

Then, softly, she asked, “What do you want in return?”

Xaden inhaled deeply. Why would she think he needed something in return?

Given that she had not been raised to trust him, he could not fully trust her either-at least for now. That truth settled uncomfortably in his chest, twisting something deep inside him. 

He sighed.

“Nothing, I just want you to call me Xaden.”

Then, before he could do something reckless—like touch her again—he forced himself to walk away.

-DRAKE-

Drake leaned back against the pillows, feigning exhaustion as the palace staff checked on him. “I’m not feeling well,” he murmured, waving off their concern. “I’ll just rest.”

The excuse worked. Dinner went on without him, and as soon as the halls quieted, he rose, dressing in black leather. He even added a cloak, mimicking Mira’s outfit from the first night he caught her sneaking out.

He smirked at the memory. Let’s see where you’re going this time, Sorrengail.

Thirty minutes after dinner, he moved silently through the palace corridors, making his way to the gardens. He found a sturdy tree and climbed it, concealing himself in the shadows.

Then, he saw her.

Mira stood on a balcony above, cloaked in black, her hood drawn low. Only her eyes were visible, glinting under the moonlight.

Drake barely breathed as he watched her leap effortlessly from the balcony, landing soundlessly on the garden’s soft earth. Like a damn cat.

She moved swiftly, her steps light as she weaved through the hedges and trees. And he followed—like a shadow.

When she reached the edge of the garden, he watched as she scaled a tree and stepped onto one of its thick branches.

Then, with another graceful leap, she was over the palace wall.

Drake smirked. So that’s how she gets out.

He wasted no time climbing after her, landing on the other side with a quiet thud.

But the moment his boots hit the ground—

Mira was right in front of him.

He barely had time to curse before she grabbed him by the front of his cloak, her eyes flashing. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice low and sharp.

Drake held up his hands in mock innocence. “Isn’t it obvious?” He smirked. “I’m following you.”

“I thought you were sick?” Mira hissed, eyes narrowing.

Drake smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Worried about me, princess?”

She let out an irritated sound, a mix between a scoff and a groan. He loved it—the way the composed, commanding Mira Sorrengail got frustrated with him. The way he got under her skin.

But before she could snap at him again, the sound of approaching guards had both of them tensing. Mira grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the palace wall, pulling him behind a thick tree.

She pressed herself against the rough bark, her front flush against the tree. Drake, standing behind her, had nowhere else to go. He leaned in, his chest pressing into her back.

Jasmine and honey. That was what she smelled like. He inhaled deeply, suppressing a groan at the way the scent wrapped around him.

Mira shifted slightly, probably realizing how close they were, but she didn’t push him away. Not yet.

The guards passed by without stopping, their footsteps fading into the distance.

The moment they were gone, Mira shoved him off her, spinning around with a glare. “Go to bed, Prince Cordella,” she ordered, brushing past him.

Drake grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. She turned to face him, her fiery brown eyes burning with warning.

“Come on, let me in on your secret,” he coaxed, his grip firm but not painful. “Who knows? We might make a great team.”

Mira scoffed. “Go to bed and let me go!” she snapped, punctuating her words with a swift kick to his shin.

Drake cursed under his breath, but before he could recover, two figures emerged from the shadows.

“Captain?” one of them called.

Drake straightened instantly, stepping in front of her before she could say anything. He put on his most charming smile and extended a hand toward them. “Hello, I’m Drake Cordella, Prince of Poromiel. New recruit,” he said smoothly. “Where are we going tonight?”

The two men—Kael and Vince, judging by their surprised but slightly amused expressions—shook his hand in turn.

Mira, standing behind him, let out a slow exhale, like she was really questioning her life choices. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, looking thoroughly done.

Drake bit back a grin. This was definitely going to be fun.

"Don't say a thing," Mira commanded Vince and Kael, her voice low but firm.

Then she turned to Drake, her gaze sharp. "Same with you. Don’t say a thing. You’ll just follow. Anything you see or hear, keep it to yourself. Do you understand?"

Drake arched a brow. As a prince, no one ever gave him orders—not his men, not his rivals, and definitely not with this level of authority. Yet, somehow, coming from Mira, it didn’t irritate him. He wasn’t sure if it was the sheer confidence in her voice or the fact that it was her commanding him, but damn it—he liked it.

Still, he smirked. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, just to see if he could get a rise out of her.

Mira shot him a glare before leading the group through the dimly lit streets of the town. Drake walked beside her, blending into the shadows, matching her silent, precise movements. She was good—graceful, quick, and nearly invisible.

They stopped at a rundown tavern. The kind of place where fights broke out over spilled drinks and debts were settled with daggers.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ale and unwashed bodies. Vince and Kael greeted the bartender, a grizzled man named Bart, but Mira stayed silent, as did Drake.

Bart slid drinks across the counter. Mira murmured a quiet thanks but didn’t remove the cover from her mouth. Drake merely nodded, keeping his senses sharp.

Minutes passed, the hum of low conversation and the occasional clatter of mugs filling the room. Then, the atmosphere shifted.

The tavern door creaked open, and three men strode in—broad-shouldered, with the kind of build that spoke of brutality rather than discipline. Their eyes swept the room, searching for easy prey.

Behind them, half-hidden, was a thin teenage boy. His frame was bony, his face bruised, his eyes darting nervously as if expecting another hit at any moment.

Drake moved before he could think, stepping in front of Mira in a protective stance, blocking her from view.

Mira sighed, rolling her eyes. “Seriously?” she muttered under her breath.

Drake didn’t budge. He wasn’t about to let her take the first hit from whatever trouble was about to unfold.

Bart, still wiping down a glass, leaned in slightly. “That’s them,” he murmured. “Been using the kid to steal for ‘em. If he doesn’t bring back enough coin, they beat him bloody.”

Drake’s jaw tightened. His fingers itched to reach for a weapon.

He glanced at Mira. She was watching the scene with cool detachment, her eyes calculating.

Then, without looking at him, she whispered, “You wanted in on my secret, Prince Cordella? Watch and learn.”

Drake’s pulse quickened.

This was going to be interesting.

Mira moved toward the three men alone.

Drake instinctively stepped forward to follow, but Vince grabbed his arm. Not yet, he warned under his breath.

Drake clenched his jaw but held back, his muscles tense. Every instinct in him screamed to keep her from walking into danger, but he forced himself to watch.

Mira stopped in front of the three men, her stance deceptively relaxed. “How much for the boy?” she asked casually.

One of the men grabbed the boy by the collar, yanking him forward like a piece of meat. “This one?”

Mira tilted her head. “Obviously. Unless you’re the boy.”

Drake’s hands curled into fists. Damn it, Mira. Poking the bear like that was going to get her hurt.

The man scowled, his grip on the kid tightening. “He’s not for sale.”

Mira sighed dramatically. “Okay, you have two choices. One, you let me buy him. Two, I take him from you.”

The men barked out a laugh. One stepped closer, his beady eyes gleaming. “Or,” he sneered, “I take you for the night.”

Drake’s vision went red.

Before he could move, Mira laughed—a light, amused sound. She tilted her head, looking the man up and down.

“Oh no,” she said sweetly, “I have standards.” Then she smirked. “How about this, let me buy the kid, and I’ll let you keep your dignity.”

The man lunged, reaching for her ass. Drake shot forward, ready to rip his arm off—

But Mira was faster. She blocked the man's hand, pivoted smoothly, and slammed her fist into his face.

Chaos erupted.

The other two men jumped in, but Vince and Kael were already moving. Fists flew, bodies crashed against tables, and drinks spilled as the tavern exploded into a brawl.

Drake didn’t hold back. He moved through the fight with lethal precision, taking down one of the brutes with a calculated blow to the ribs, then another to the jaw. The man crumpled.

Vince and Kael handled the second man, while Mira dodged an incoming swing, ducked low, and drove her knee into the last man's gut.

Within moments, the three men lay groaning on the floor, piled on top of each other in a pathetic heap.

Drake shoved past Vince and Kael, his focus locked on Mira. He wanted to grab her, to shake her, to scold her for putting herself in danger—

But then she turned to him, grinning.

His breath caught.

She was smiling—not just a smirk, but a real, bright, adrenaline-fueled smile. Her eyes gleamed with excitement, her face flushed from the fight.

Drake, the man who had faced war, death, and blood without hesitation—stood stunned.

She was breathtaking.

“That was fun,” she said, voice light, as if she hadn’t just put herself in the middle of a dangerous situation.

Then, as if completely unaffected, she walked past him toward the boy.

Drake exhaled sharply.

Damn it.

He was completely, utterly ruined for this woman.

***

They got the boy settled in a small room with the help of Bart, the bartender. Mira and Vince worked efficiently—cleaning his wounds, feeding him, and making sure he was comfortable. While Kael took care of the Men they have beaten.

Drake leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Mira as she worked. There was something different about her in this moment—not the fierce warrior, not the sharp-tongued woman who constantly challenged him, but something softer. She was patient with the boy, careful with his bruises.

Once he had eaten, they sat down with him.

“What’s your name?” Mira asked.

The boy hesitated. “Lucas. I’m fifteen.”

“Where are your parents?” Vince asked gently.

Lucas’s face darkened. “Dead. My uncle sold me to those men.”

Drake’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching with the urge to break something. This is something he would not let happen in Poromiel. 

Lucas looked up at Mira warily. “Are you my new owner?”

Mira smiled, shaking her head. “No.” She leaned forward slightly, voice steady but kind. “No one owns you. You’re free. I want you to think long and hard about what you want to do with your life now. For now, you can stay here—Bart will take care of you, and Vince will check on you from time to time. When you decide what you want to do, tell Vince or Bart, and we’ll make it happen.”

Lucas stared at her, his expression unreadable. “What about the men?” he asked after a pause.

Mira’s expression hardened. “They won’t bother you anymore.”

Lucas swallowed, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

Mira reached out, ruffling his hair lightly. “Get some rest, kid.”

As they left, Drake followed silently, his thoughts tangled. Mira sneaks out of the palace to do these dangerous things but it does not explain why she is sequestered Calldyr. She is a rider she is supposed to graduate Basgaith and be a soldier like her mom. 

Once they reached the palace walls, they removed their hoods. Drake turned to her, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“So that’s what you do when you sneak out,” he mused. 

Mira shot him a sharp look. “Shut it. This night never happened, nosy prince. You hear me?”

Drake grinned. “One condition.”

Mira tsked, already irritated. “What?”

Drake stepped closer, reaching for her wrist. He felt her tense, but she didn’t pull away. He leaned in just enough to savor the warm scent of jasmine and honey clinging to her skin.

“What’s my name?” he asked.

Mira clamped her mouth shut, glaring at him like he was the most insufferable man she had ever met.

Drake smirked. Stubborn woman.

He backed her into the wall, their chest nearly touching. His head dipped lower, until their eyes met. “Go on, say it,” he murmured.

Mira smirked, finally opening her mouth. “Prince Dr—”

Before she could finish, a gasp sounded from the hallway.

“M-Miss Mira! Prince Cordella! I—I—”

Drake turned his head slightly to see a young maid standing frozen, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as if she had caught them in something scandalous.

Mira groaned under her breath.

Drake, never one to waste an opportunity, grinned at the maid. “It’s okay,” he said smoothly, his voice rich with amusement. “I was just saying good night to Mira.”

The maid turned an even deeper shade of red before scurrying off down the hall.

Mira turned to him, murder in her eyes. “You made it look like something is between us,” she hissed.

Drake only chuckled. “Did I?”

Mira huffed, kicked him hard in the shin, and stalked off without another word.

Drake smirked, watching her disappear into the palace corridors.

“Good night, my vicious princess,” he murmured to himself.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

The summit meetings had been rescheduled. Thank the gods. Xaden exhaled, rolling the tension out of his shoulders as they followed Felix into one of the sitting room. He is expecting another meeting to debrief, what they knew so far about the legacies and the politics of Navarre.

But the moment he stepped inside, he stopped short.

The legacies were here too.

Seated on the couch, Halden relaxed with an easy smirk, Mira beside him with an unreadable expression, and Violet perched next to her, straight-backed. Cam sat on the armrest next to Violet, arms crossed like a silent guardian. Behind them, Ridoc, Sawyer, and Rhiannon stood in a loose formation, looking far too comfortable.

Xaden’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t the only one caught off guard—Drake stiffened beside him, and Bodhi let out a soft curse under his breath.

The moment they entered, Ridoc, Sawyer, and Rhiannon’s faces lit up.

“Hey, Liam!” Ridoc greeted.

Sawyer, Rhiannon, Violet and Cam echoed the sentiment, while Mira looks in his eyes nods at him to join their group, and Liam grinned, stepping toward to join them like they were long-lost friends.

Xaden stared. Un-fucking-believable.

Liam had known them for what—couple of days? And yet, he already slotted into their group like he belonged.

Garrick wasn’t wrong. Everyone likes Liam.

Xaden slid onto the adjacent sofa across from Halden. Drake sat beside him, followed by Bodhi. The entire room settled, but tension lingered beneath the surface.

Then Xaden’s gaze shifted to Violet.

The moment they had arrived, her posture changed—her back straightened, her fingers subtly flexing against her lap. But his sharp eyes caught something else.

A book.

One of his books.

A smirk tugged at Xaden’s lips. She's reading it.

To his his amusement Xaden observed the others and he noticed something else. Mira was avoiding Drake’s gaze, her focus deliberately elsewhere. Drake, on the other hand, kept sneaking glances at her.

Before he could dwell on that thought, Felix cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

Colonel Aetos stood beside him, his expression as unreadable as ever, and next to him, a representative from the Poromiel council took his place.

The room hushed.

Colonel Aetos stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the room like a hawk assessing its prey.

"As you all know, you are the future of the continent," he began, his tone calm but firm. "It would be in the best interest of our countries if all of you got along. In time, you three princes"—he nodded at Drake, Xaden, and Halden—"will be kings of your respective nations. It would do well for you to be well acquainted… and perhaps even friends."

Friends? Xaden barely kept his expression neutral.

He didn’t miss the way Halden smirked as if the very idea amused him. Drake, for his part, didn’t react outwardly, though Xaden could feel the tension rolling off him. Drake and him were friends for years, Halden is another story.

Felix stepped forward, clapping his hands together. "Now, onto the reason you’re all here."

Beside him, a council member from Poromiel began handing out papers.

"These," Felix continued, "are the activities you will all be engaging in over the next of weeks. Your participation on the meetings will be less to prioritize these activities."

Xaden glanced down at the list, scanning through it.

"A ball next Saturday," Felix announced. "Aside from local Navarrian bands we have invited Tyrish and Poromish bands as well. To prepare, we have arranged a dance practice on Monday, to hopefully, create a chemistry between you lot before the ball."

Mira barely reacted, her expression carefully schooled, but Xaden caught the subtle way her fingers curled around the edge of the couch. Violet groaned under her breath.

He smirked. She doesn’t like balls either.

Felix went on. "There will also be a royal hunting event, a city stroll, a visit to the summer castle, tennis matches, formal dinners, and a trip to the theater."

Xaden sighed. A glorified social parade.

But before he could fully tune it out, Felix added, "And tomorrow, you’re all expected to fly together."

"Oh yeah!" Ridoc exclaimed, practically bouncing.

"I haven’t seen a gryphon before," Sawyer muttered, eyes glinting with curiosity.

Xaden’s gaze flicked to Drake, whose expression remained unreadable, but there was something sharp in his eyes.

He leaned back in his seat, watching all the moving pieces fall into place.

This was going to be very interesting.

Xaden glanced at Violet as she scanned the paper, a fleeting smile tugging at her lips before she quickly schooled her expression back into neutrality. Excited to go out of the palace, are we? he thought with amusement.

Felix wrapped up his briefing, and soon, Colonel Aetos, Felix, and the Poromiel council left the room.

Mira leaned toward Halden, whispering something to him before standing. Violet followed, and the two Sorrengail sisters disappeared through the door.

Halden turned to Xaden, Drake, and the rest of their group with an easy grin. "You guys want to hang? We usually relaxed in the courtyard, but since it’s gloomy, we can go to our private lounge."

Xaden arched a brow. "Sure," Garrick grins as if to say Show us how you guys hang out.

He didn’t miss that Halden only extended the invitation after Mira whispered to him.

As they walked through the halls, Xaden found himself in conversation with Halden, Drake, and Cam.

"So where’s Alic?" Xaden asked.

Cam snorted. "Busy. He’s planning to open a club—one where you can drink and dance, much like the one we have."

Their conversation flowed easily as they made their way to their private lounge. When they arrived, Xaden took in the massive space—a fully stocked bar, billiards, darts, a seating areas lined with books, and even a selection of board games.

Sawyer and Ridoc immediately roped Liam into a board game, while Rhiannon led Syrena and Imogen to the dartboard. That left Xaden, Halden, Cam, Drake, Garrick, and Bodhi in the large seating area.

A cello player arrived, adding a refined touch to the atmosphere, while a butler and two maids followed with trays of coffee, tea, and wine. A table was set with fruits, nuts, biscuits, and pastries.

Xaden leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out as he sipped his scotch, watching the conversation unfold around him. Across from him, Halden swirled his drink lazily, his usual smirk in place. 

“So,” Garrick said, rubbing his hands together  trying to lighten up the mood. “Who else is looking forward to the royal hunt in the couple of weeks?”

“Absolutely,” Cam said, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “You guys will like the summer castle in Morraine is perfect for leisure activities, we can hunt, there is a pool and a near by lagoon and hot springs.”

Drake, seated in the beside him with a book in his hand, nodded. “That should be fun, what else can we do there?”

Halden scoffed. “A lot, specially when the adults are not around. I swear if I have to listen to another advisor drone on about ‘proper diplomatic decorum,’ I’m throwing myself into the nearest lake.”

Xaden smirked, tipping his glass in acknowledgment. “At least we are excused to the more boring ones.”

Bodhi, who had been silent up until now, snorted. “Secretly you enjoy attending those meetings. Don’t lie to us, Your Highness.”

The group chuckled, and Xaden smirked but didn’t deny it. He will attend every meeting as long as Violet Sorrengail is there.

“So, what’s everyone aiming for?” Cam asked, leaning forward. “Last year, I bagged the biggest stag.”

“Yeah, and you haven’t shut up about it since,” Halden muttered.

Garrick rolled his eyes. “I’ll take anything but another damn boar. Those things charge like hell, and I’m not in the mood to get tackled again.”

“Poor baby,” Bodhi teased. “Still nursing your pride?”

“More like his ribs,” Xaden drawled. “I seem to recall you getting tossed like a ragdoll.”

Garric shot him a glare but took the jab in stride. “Laugh it up, but I’ll be the one taking home the biggest kill.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Drake said. “I plan to beat all of you.”

Halden chuckled. “We’ll see. But honestly, I’m more excited for the other activities we could do there—drinking, swimming, drinking, we can also bring women out there, no council meetings, and no pressing responsibilities? Perfection.”

Cam nodded in agreement. “For once, I won’t complain. A week of hunting, drinking, and doing whatever the hell I want without being pulled into politics? Sounds like a dream.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Xaden said. “Because after that week, it’s back to business.”

Drake sighed, running a hand down his face. “Let’s not ruin the mood.”

Halden raised his glass. “Agreed. To an eventful, stress-free week.”

The rest of them clinked their glasses together, momentarily united in their shared desire to escape duty—even if just for a little while.

Xaden was about to take another sip of his drink when the door to the lounge creaked open again. His eyes flicked up lazily, but his posture stiffened slightly as Mira and Violet stepped inside, Dain Aetos trailing behind them like a shadow.

His jaw tightened slightly.

Mira moved to sit next to Halden on the couch, while Violet took a seat beside Cam. Dain followed, giving them all a curt nod.

Mira’s sharp gaze swept the room, taking in the relaxed postures and drinks in hand. “What are you all talking about?” she asked, her voice carrying that natural authority she always had.

Halden leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “Hunting.”

Violet made a face. “Of course, you are.” She folded her arms, giving a look that told them she was thoroughly unimpressed.

Xaden smirked. “What? Not a fan of the thrill of the chase?”

Violet rolled her eyes. “I like my fights with something that can actually fight back, not a defenseless animal.”

Dain, sighed. “If you take Vi on the Royal hunt, she will come back with pets.”

“Remember the wolf she insisted a puppy and took it home, I still can remember General Sorrengail's reaction.” Cam join in the teasing

She shot him a glare. “Yeah. Yeah. I'm still pissed that mom got rid of him.”

"You good?" Drake’s voice cut through the room, directed at Mira.

Mira’s eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by his sudden concern.

"I'm fine, just a headache," she replied, settling into her seat.

Xaden leaned back, watching as she avoided Drake’s gaze again.

Xaden was sure something was happening between Drake and Mira, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it yet. The way she avoided Drake’s eyes, the way Drake’s gaze lingered on her—it wasn’t just tension. It was something.

Before he could analyze it further, the doors swung open again.

Alic stormed in, looking slightly disheveled, his grin wide with excitement. "Hey, everyone!"

Then, as if just registering Xaden’s group, he blinked and added, "Oh, I didn’t know we were hanging with them now."

Xaden smirked slightly but said nothing as Alic greeted everyone, grabbing himself a glass of scotch.

Alic moved toward Violet and, with a teasing grin, reached out to touch her hair.

Violet reacted instantly. Slap!

Alic yelped, jerking his hand back as she glared at him.

"Ugh," she muttered, shifting away from him.

Xaden chuckled. Violent Violet. His nickname for her was still perfect.

Unbothered, Alic plopped onto the couch, squeezing himself between Mira and Cam.

Cam wrinkled his nose. "Alic, you stink."

Mira shifted away from him as well, pressing closer to Halden until her shoulder was practically against his chest.

Halden arched a brow. "You just got home. Where were you?"

Alic smirked, swirling his drink. "My club is almost done, brother. A few more touches, and I’ll have it open." He turned to the group, lifting his glass. "And of course, everyone’s invited."

A round of murmured interest spread through the group, but Xaden’s attention remained on Mira.

Still avoiding Drake.

Still pressed close to Halden. And Drake’s fingers twitched on his glass, his expression unreadable.

Oh yeah, Xaden thought. Something’s definitely going on here.

Xaden sipped his scotch, silently observing the legacies and their easy camaraderie. It was fascinating to watch, almost like studying a well-rehearsed play where everyone knew their role.

Alic, as expected, dominated the conversation with tales of his womanizing escapades, boasting about the time he bedded six women at once. Bodhi and Garrick were all ears laughing.

Violet groaned. "gods, Alic, I swear you’ll get injured one of these days."

"You don't have to worry about me Vi, I'm a pro at fucking." Alic countered laughed and lifted his drink—only for Mira to snatch it right out of his hand and set it firmly on the table.

"Coffee, you need coffee," she said simply.

Alic frowned, but the maid hurried to pour him a cup without question.

Xaden smirked. So Mira commands this group, huh? It wasn’t just Halden. She held authority in a way that was expected. No one questioned her.

Just then, a tall, bombshell blonde strode in.

Alic immediately rose, grinning, and kissed her. "Everyone, meet Cherry, my girlfriend."

Cam mutters with a smirk "For today."

The group greeted her, and soon they moved toward the billiards table, Garrick and Bodhi following along. Xaden, however, remained seated, his gaze drifting toward Dain, who was speaking with Violet.

They were too close.

Before he could help himself, Xaden’s grip on his drink tightened.

Cam, who just sat beside him, must have noticed. "They’ve been best friends since childhood," he said casually.

Was Xaden that obvious? Just best friends then?

Cam added, his tone neutral but meaningful, "Just like Mira and Halden. They’re best friends, too."

Xaden flicked his gaze toward Drake, whose expression was unreadable—except for the way his jaw clenched slightly.

Then Xaden’s eyes moved to Mira.

She was resting her head on Halden’s arm, seemingly comfortable, her eyes fluttering closed in a light nap.

Drake’s fingers twitched around his glass once again.

A sudden shriek cut through the lounge.

Cherry.

She was glaring at the maid, her voice sharp. "This is not warm enough, you idiot! You have one job!"

The maid flinched, cowering slightly. "I—I’m sorry, miss."

Xaden didn’t react immediately, but he saw the exact moment Violet did.

She stood and everybody stilled, even Alic who is beside Cherry just stood in silence, the atmosphere is like a quiet before the storm.

Cam and Dain cursed under their breath and rose as well, but Violet was already marching toward the billiards table.

Being smaller than Cherry, she hoisted herself onto the edge of the table so they were eye level. She glares at her like she burn her with her eyes, she is indeed general Sorrengail's daughter.

Her voice was like ice. "I don’t know how your parents raised you, Cherry, but in this place, we don’t disrespect our staff. They are people—people who help us. If you want to remain with this circle for the rest of the day, you are expected to be a proper human and respect them. Do you understand?"

Cherry, clearly embarrassed, nodded. "Ye—yes."

Violet turned to the maid. "Rose, stand up straight. You didn’t do anything wrong."

Then, to Cherry, Violet’s tone sharpened. "Now apologize to Rose and say that again. With respect."

Cherry swallowed hard before mumbling, "I’m sorry. Rose, can—can I have another cup warmer, please"

Violet didn’t respond, simply hopping down and walking back to her seat.

But Cherry, humiliated and seething, muttered under her breath, "Bitch."

Mira, who hadn’t even opened her eyes, spoke in a voice filled with quiet authority.

"Alic, take the trash away."

Alic, grinning, grabbed Cherry’s arm. "C’mon, sweetheart. Time to go."

Cherry gasped. "Alic!"

But he only smirked, pulling her toward the door as the others exchanged amused glances.

Once they were out they could hear Alic telling her, "You don't call Violet that and expect to be around me. You are lucky you just got told off, you should go while Mira is still calm, unless you want to die today. Also, please learn some manners."

Xaden leaned back, processing what just happened with interest. They reacted as if Violet will burn the ground, Mira definitely commands this group but Violet also has some kind of authority, She is quiet but lethal, She eviscerated that woman in just a few sentences.

Xaden leaned back, watching Violet return to her seat with effortless confidence. She crossed her legs, and his eyes flickered to the daggers strapped to her thighs. And of course she carries weapons everywhere. He smirked, sipping his drink.

Fuck me. He is in deep deep trouble.

Garrick leans close behind him muttered under his breath, "Bren will kill you."

Drake, who had heard him, snorted. Xaden looks at him "He might kill you first." He frowns at him opens his mouth then close it while his gaze flicker to Mira's direction yet again. Yes, Cordella I know that look you are not just interested.

Across the room, Dain’s voice carried over. "Oh, you arleady have a copy? I was looking for one all over Calldyr it was sold out."

Xaden immediately knew what he was talking about.

Before Violet could respond, he interrupted smoothly, "I gave it to her."

Violet shot him a sharp glare, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Dain frowned. "Your highness?"

Xaden didn’t miss the subtle edge in his tone, but he only smiled lazily, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Yes, I did."

Dain’s jaw tightened slightly, and Violet sighed, like she was trying to find patience.

Xaden just smirked. Yes, take my bait Let's see if you are reading her memories, he should have known I where I met her first and more importantly I want to know if you see her as more than a best friend. 

Xaden met Dain’s narrowed gaze with an easy smirk, already enjoying this far too much.

"Generous of you, Your highness," Dain said, his voice controlled but clipped.

"Isn't it?" Xaden drawled, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. "I heard Violence is bookish. Thought she’d appreciate it." He turned to Violet, feigning innocence. "You do appreciate it, don’t you, Violence?"

Violet rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Stop calling me that."

"Not a chance," Xaden said smoothly.

Dain exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to keep his composure upon hearing the nickname. "Violence?"

Xaden tilted his head. "I call her Violence, is there a problem?" His smirk widened.

Violet muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like infuriating men.

Xaden leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, smirking at Dain. “What’s the matter, Aetos?”

Dain scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “She clearly doesn't want to be called Violence, Your Highness,” 

Xaden feigning amusement he looked at Violet, his smirk deepening. “Doesn't she, Violence?”

Mira, who had been resting with her eyes closed, finally opened them. She didn’t move, but Xaden could tell she was watching, calculating. The rest of the room had gone quiet too, subtle glances exchanged as everyone tuned in to the unfolding tension.

Cam, looking far too entertained, leaned back against the couch armrest. "This is fun," he murmured.

Halden huffed a quiet laugh. "This is a disaster waiting to happen."

Mira’s gaze flicked between Xaden and Dain, her expression unreadable. Then, with a lazy stretch, she murmured, "I’d place my bets, but I don’t gamble on lost causes."

Dain’s jaw ticked. Xaden grinned.

"Smart of you," Xaden said, lifting his glass in a mock toast. "You know how this ends."

Dain’s eye twitched. “At least, I don’t have to bribe people for attention.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Xaden said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You just hover like an overbearing chaperone and hope she eventually notices you.”

Ridoc choked on his drink. Sawyer muttered, “Damn.”

Mira, who had been watching with sharp amusement, finally sighed, rubbing her temple. “Enough.”

Xaden and Dain turned to look at her. She shook her head, exasperated. “I swear, you two are worse than children.” Then she stood, grabbing Violet’s wrist and pulling her up. “We’re leaving before this turns into some ridiculous chest-thumping competition.”

Violet, for once, didn’t argue. She just gave both of them an unimpressed look before following Mira out.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Ridoc whistled. “Well. That was something...”

Sawyer snickered. “And yet, somehow, neither of you actually won.”

Xaden just smirked, eyes lingering on the door. Oh, I won. She took my book with her.

-DRAKE-

Drake leaned against the bar, sipping his scotch as he watched Xaden and Dain go at it. The back-and-forth, the thinly veiled insults—it was the kind of pissing contest he had seen a hundred times before, usually over status or power. But this? This was over a book. A book—not a book but Violet.

Drake smirked, shaking his head. Xaden never bothered with pointless arguments unless something—or someone—was important to him. And the way he baited Dain so effortlessly? Yeah, Xaden was definitely not just interested in Violet.

But what caught Drake’s attention even more was Mira.

She had been sitting quietly, arms folded, watching the exchange with that sharp, assessing gaze of hers. To everyone else, she probably looked merely amused, but Drake knew better. He had seen her face pale since, seen the slight crease in her brow. He had asked her earlier if she was okay, and she had brushed him off with a simple just a headache. He didn’t buy it.

Probably from lack of sleep. Not surprising, considering their little adventure last night.

What did bother him, though, was the way she leaned against Halden. It wasn’t rational, but it irritated him all the same.

Then, finally, Mira had enough.

“Enough,” she said, voice carrying over the room.

Drake fought back a smile. That’s my girl—not his girl, well not yet.

The moment she and Violet left, the room’s energy shifted. The banter ended, people started drifting away, and soon, the private lounge was nearly empty.

Drake stood, finishing his drink before setting the glass down with a quiet clink. He didn’t bother saying anything to the others as he left. Instead, he went looking for Mira.

It didn’t take long to find her.

She was curled up in a small lounge, seated on a couch with her arms crossed over her chest, one leg crossed over the other. Even in sleep, she looked regal, her chin tilted slightly, her brow smooth. He let his gaze drop, catching sight of the daggers strapped to her thigh.

Of course, he thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. Always armed.

He stepped inside quietly, moving to sit beside her. He had found a book earlier, he simply opened it and started reading.

He wasn’t sure why, but sitting here, in this quiet space with Mira sleeping beside him, felt... right. Peaceful.

What he didn’t notice was the shadow that passed by the doorway.

Queen Maraya paused as she walked past, her gaze landing on the scene inside.

Her son, seated comfortably, reading. Mira, sleeping beside him.

A small smile touched her lips before she continued on her way.

Last Night...

-VIOLET-

Violet sat in front of her vanity, combing through her hair. She had decided to let it down tonight, letting it breathe from the braids she usually wore. The long, dark waves cascaded over her shoulders, soft and free. The black maxi dress she had worn earlier still clung to her form, elegant yet simple.

Her gaze drifted toward her desk, where three books lay stacked neatly. Next to them was the note she had found the other day.

Prince Xaden.

She exhaled sharply, irritation flickering through her. How the hell did he even get into my room? Is he a stalker? The thought gnawed at her. It wasn't just the intrusion—it was the sheer audacity of it. He had insisted she keep the books, as if his word alone was law. And despite her frustration, she couldn't deny that a small, traitorous part of her was… curious and even attracted to the Prince.

What does he want in return? 

She shouldn’t let her guard down. He was a prince of a country that rebelled against Navarre that killed her brother.

Yet, no matter how much she tried to focus on her annoyance, her mind betrayed her, drifting back to the way he looked that afternoon when they watched the sparring matches. His movements were powerful, controlled, each strike precise. His beautiful face, And damn it, his body was unfairly sculpted, a perfect blend of strength and grace. 

Violet groaned, rubbing her temples. No. Absolutely not.

A knock at the door made her tense. For some ridiculous reason, her subconscious expected it to be Xaden.

But when she opened it, she was met with a familiar face.

“Ready for dinner?” Dain asked, smiling warmly.

Violet perked up, pushing all thoughts of the infuriating prince aside. “Yes,” she said, stepping out and letting Dain lead her down the hall.

Dinner was always a grand affair, a gathering of everyone in the estate.

Which meant he would be there.

-MIRA-

Mira trudged into her room, exhaustion weighing down her limbs. The day had been long, she did not mean to go out and rescue the Lucas tonight but Vince and Kael, were able to track those men and they said that the nosy prince was sick, so she was confident about sneaking out only to find that nosy prince was following her as she sneaked out. She did not have a choice but let him join them since he is already out of the palace and rescue missions are time sensitive every minute they waste are opportunity for them to abuse Lucas, she was happy though the thrill of doing something to protect.

If only her mom would let her and Violet out of Calldyr, she sighed, she was more than ready to collapse into bed.

She peeled off her clothes, stepping into the warm shower. The hot water soothed her aching muscles, washing away the grime and tension from the day. Once she was clean, she slipped into a silk nightgown, the fabric cool against her skin.

Usually, after sneaking out at night for some adventure—whether it was flying or something more reckless—she would be so exhausted that sleep claimed her instantly. Tonight should have been no different.

She climbed into bed, letting out a soft sigh as she settled under the covers. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to sleep.

And then—Drake Cordella’s face.

Grinning.

She snapped her eyes open. What the fuck?

Mira groaned, flipping onto her side. No. Absolutely not. I refuse.

She shut her eyes again.

There he was, again, that insufferable, smug prince. This time, his whiskey-colored eyes gleamed with amusement, and his lips curled into that devilish smirk. Say my name, he murmured.

Mira bolted upright, her heart hammering in her chest.

She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to scream. "No, no, no... that nosy prince," she muttered through gritted teeth, grabbing a pillow and punching it. "I’m going to throttle him when I see him tomorrow."

Lying back down, she glared at the ceiling, willing herself to think of anything but him.

It didn’t work.

Sleep never came.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

The wind rushed past Xaden’s face as he stood on the flight field, the crisp morning air filling his lungs. The weight of the past few days faded in the presence of his dragon, Sgaeyl. He had missed her more than he was willing to admit.

It feels good to be near you again, he admitted, resting a hand against her gleaming blue scales.

I do not see why, You left me in Aretia because Navarre requested it,  Sgaeyl huffed in his mind, shifting her wings in irritation. That pompous arrogant King, so insecure!

Tell me about it, Xaden agreed, his gaze sweeping across the field where his team—Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, and Liam—waited alongside their dragons. Nearby, Drake and Syrena stood with their gryphons, their sleek wings tucked close to their sides.

This morning, is the first of the engagements they need to attend to, they were flying. It had been too long since he had taken to the skies, and with everything going on, he was more than ready. But what intrigued them the most was Violet's dragons. They had a meeting last night reviewing possible scenarios of today's flight and they wonder if Violet will bring both of her dragons. They saw Andarna the princess but they have not seen the other one.

This will be interesting, Sgaeyl mused, amusement curling in her tone.

Sgaey please, Xaden warned as he caught her thoughts drifting toward Violet.

I’d like to see the woman you’ve been obsessing over and her so-called princess dragon, she teased.

There’s no such thing as a princess dragon, Sgaeyl scoffed, her mental voice tinged with disapproval.

Xaden didn’t argue, but his lips quirked slightly.

Then, the sky darkened as six dragons approached, the first to land were Ridoc with his Brown Sword tail and Sawyer with his Red sword tail, their dragons settling onto the earth with smooth precision.

“Sorry,” Ridoc called out. “Violet needed to rein in Andarna.”

A low growl rumbled from Sgaeyl.

That dragon is not a princess. She is an adolescent.

Xaden barely had time to register Sgaeyl’s words before his attention snapped back to the sky. Andarna, the gleaming black dragon that seems to be deep purple when with the sunlight, was circling above, but something was wrong.

Violet wasn’t straddling the dragon in a typical riding stance. Both of her feet were positioned on one side, balanced precariously—and then she let go.

Xaden’s breath caught as Violet fell.

Gasps erupted around him. His heart lurched into his throat as instinct screamed at him to move, but before he could so much as twitch—

A shadow streaked across the sky.

A massive black dragon swooped in, catching Violet on its back with perfect timing.

“Holy shit,” Bodhi muttered.

“That’s the biggest dragon I’ve ever seen,” Garrick said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Sawyer grinned. “That’s Tairn. Violet’s other dragon.”

Xaden barely heard them, his eyes locked onto the scene before him. Violet stood at her Tairn's back walking then she sat in a saddle strapping herself on him.

She needs a saddle? Why? Most importantly a dragon allowed her to strap him a saddle is unheard of.

Tairn landed with a powerful thud, the force of it sending a tremor through the ground. As the dust settled, Xaden’s gaze locked onto Violet.

She is clad in fitted black riding leathers, her hair is in it's usual crown braid, effortlessly regal.

She looked good in leather. Too good. Xaden exhaled slowly, schooling his expression into neutrality.

The tension in the air crackled the moment Sgaeyl and Tarin locked eyes.

Sgaeyl let out a deep, menacing growl.

Tairn answered with an earth-shaking roar.

On my back, Sgaeyl ordered, her voice vibrating through Xaden’s mind with a sense of urgency he didn’t understand.

“What the hell is happening?” he asked as he climbed up.

Sgaeyl didn’t answer.

Then, with a powerful thrust of her wings, she took off at breakneck speed. Xaden clenched his jaw, adjusting to the sudden force as he searched for whatever had caused this reaction.

Tarin was flying right beside them, matching Sgaeyl’s speed effortlessly. Violet, just as confused as he was, sat on Tarin’s back, her expression one of pure frustration.

Tairn roared at Sgaeyl.

Sgaeyl roared right back.

“Where are they taking us?” Violet shouted over the rushing wind.

“I don’t know!” Xaden yelled back.

They soared through the sky, higher and farther than expected. The dragons were flying with purpose, their powerful bodies cutting through the air, but neither of them were answering.

It wasn’t long before Xaden noticed the landscape below shifting—recognizable landmarks growing distant.

Then, suddenly, Sgaeyl banked sharply and descended toward a secluded hilltop.

Xaden barely had time to brace before Sgaeyl landed with a forceful thud.

Dismount, she commanded.

Xaden hesitated, but he knew better than to argue with her. He slid off, watching as Tarin followed suit, landing just a few feet away. Violet dismounted as well, looking equally bewildered.

Then, without warning, both dragons took off again.

Xaden watched as Sgaeyl and Tarin soared away, their powerful wings carrying them into the mountains nearby.

They were gone.

Stranding him and Violet alone.

“What the hell just happened?” Violet fumed, turning on him.

“I don’t know,” Xaden admitted, rubbing a hand down his face. “Sgaeyl won’t answer me.”

Violet exhaled sharply, glancing around. “They flew us too far. We’re almost in Vale.”

Xaden huffed a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “I guess we’re stuck together, Violence.”

-DRAKE-

The weight of Sovadunn beneath him was a comfort Drake hadn’t realized he’d missed until now. The sharp gusts of wind ruffled his dark curls as his gryphon shifted, wings flexing, eager for action.

Oh, now I know why you want to stay in this phony country, Sovadunn teased in their bond, his tone smug.

Drake barely paid attention, his focus locked onto Mira as she dismounted her green Clubtail dragon. She moved with the kind of confidence that made his blood heat—powerful, assured, lethal in rider black leathers that clung to her body like a second skin.

Then chaos struck.

A massive black dragon—the biggest Drake had ever seen—landed with Violet on its back. But before anyone could process the sheer size of the beast, Xaden’s dragon, Sgaeyl, roared, and the two dragons took off, leaving Xaden and Violet barely clinging to their backs as they vanished into the sky.

“Violet!” Mira’s voice cut through the chaos.

Andarna, the smaller black dragon that had been with Violet, let out a violent, ear-piercing roar. The ground trembled beneath them.

Drake instinctively reached for his sword, but Sovadunn’s sharp command stopped him. Move!

Imogen, Bodhi, Liam, Syrena, and Garrick were already mounting their dragons and gryphons, their expressions tense, their movements quick. The tension was tangible—one wrong move, and they’d be dealing with a raging dragon.

Drake turned just in time to see Mira stepping forward.

Toward Andarna.

“Mira! Don’t!” Cam shouted.

Drake’s grip tightened on his reins, his heartbeat slamming against his ribs.

That woman really has no fear, he thought.

Sovadunn snorted in his mind. Like that’s a bad thing for you?

No, it wasn’t. It was Mira. Reckless, stubborn, and completely irresistible.

The other dragons—Cam’s blue, Ridoc’s brown, Rhiannon’s green, and Sawyer’s red—moved in, attempting to rein Andarna in. But the dragon thrashed, her wings flaring wide, her tail sweeping dangerously close to anyone foolish enough to stand too near.

Everyone took a step back.

Everyone except Mira.

Drake’s breath caught as she reached out a hand, palm open, her voice smooth, coaxing.

“It’s okay, Andarna,” she said, her tone soft but firm. “It’s okay. I know. We will find them. I’m sure Tairn didn’t mean to leave you.”

Andarna’s growls slowed, her massive golden eyes locking onto Mira. The ground settled.

Step by step, Mira moved closer until she was right in front of the dragon, her fingers grazing the smooth black scales.

Andarna shuddered but stilled, her enormous body lowering slightly. Then, to everyone’s shock, the dragon nuzzled Mira’s outstretched hand.

Drake let out a slow breath.

Of course, she had managed to calm the a dragon.

Sovadunn let out a low, amused chuff in his mind. Oh, you’re in real trouble, aren’t you?

Drake didn’t respond. He already knew the answer.

The sound of heavy boots striking the ground pulled Drake’s attention away from Mira.

General Lilith Sorrengail marched toward them, her expression carved from ice, Felix at her side. Her presence alone made even the strongest riders stand at attention.

“What happened?” she demanded.

Mira, still standing beside a now-calmed Andarna, turned to face her mother. “I don’t know. Tairn and Prince Xaden’s dragon just took off, leaving a raging Andarna. Teine said something about mates, but I’m not sure.”

A heavy silence settled over them.

Lilith’s gaze sharpened before she turned to Aetos, who was jogging toward them. “Send a missive to Kaori. Tell him to be here as soon as possible.”

Then she turned to Felix. “Let’s go.”

A brown dragon and Felix’s red dragon landed in unison.

As Lilith mounted her dragon, Garrick, still on his own dragon’s back, spoke up. “We will help too.”

Rhiannon nodded in agreement, stepping forward. “We’re going as well.”

With swift movements, the riders climbed onto their dragons. Wings stretched, claws dug into the dirt, and then they were airborne.

Drake stayed a little longer, lingering as the rush of wind and the sound of flapping wings filled the space. His eyes drifted to Mira, expecting her to join the search.

She didn’t move.

Instead, she turned to her mother, her expression set with stubborn determination. “Mom, can I help too?”

Lilith didn’t even hesitate. “No. You will stay here in Calldyr. We will find your sister.”

Drake saw it—the flash of anger, frustration, helplessness in Mira’s eyes.

“Mom!” she protested, stepping forward.

Lilith’s gaze was as cold as steel. “Mira, no.”

Drake’s jaw clenched as a strange tightness filled his chest.

His gryphon huffed. Clearly she is capable and more, why isn’t she allowed to go?

Drake’s gaze flicked to Brennan, whose face was set in a hard, unreadable mask. 

As the last of the dragons and gryphons took flight—including Syrena’s—Drake hesitated.

Mira stood there, glaring up at the sky, her fingers absently scratching Andarna’s jaw as the dragon pressed close, the two of them comforting each other.

He tilted his head, watching her for a moment before smirking. “Princess, cheer up! We’ll find her.”

Mira shot him a dark scowl.

Drake, grinning, gave her a wink.

Before he could enjoy the reaction, her green dragon roared at him and Sova.

Sovadunn shrieked, flapping his wings aggressively before hissing in Drake’s mind. You will get us killed!

Chuckling, Drake nudged Sova into flight. “Worth it.”

-XADEN-

Xaden and Violet has be stuck together on the hill for hours. It is late in the afternoon soon the sun will set. 

“Tairn left me,” she muttered, kicking a loose rock. “Unbelievable.”

Xaden, on the other hand, fought the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he didn’t mind being stuck with her. Not even a little. 

He adjusted the straps of his pack—the one he always carried, because war had taught him that preparation was survival.

Violet, however, had nothing. Not even a damn jacket. With a sigh, he reached inside his pack and pulled out his cloak.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her.

She eyed it suspiciously. “I’m fine.”

Xaden arched a brow. “You’re shivering.”

She scowled, but after a moment, she grabbed the cloak and draped it over her shoulders. The fabric swallowed her, but he had to admit—she looked good in his cloak.

They sat beneath a tree, the thick branches providing some shelter from the wind.

Xaden pulled out some dried meat and handed her a piece. 

“You had food, too?” she asked, impressed.

He leaned back against the tree trunk. “Unlike some people, I like to be prepared.”

She rolled her eyes but took the food anyway, chewing slowly.

The silence between them stretched, but for once, it wasn’t uncomfortable. The wind rustled the leaves, and in the distance, an owl hooted.

Violet tugged his cloak tighter around herself, some of her hair sticking out from her braid. Xaden forced himself to look away before he did something stupid—like reach out and tuck it behind her ear.

“Do you think they’re coming back soon?” she asked quietly.

Xaden glanced toward the ridge where Sgaeyl and Tarin had disappeared.

“No,” he admitted. “Not yet.”

She sighed, leaning her head against the tree. “Great.”

Xaden smirked, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Violence.”

“You don't?” 

“Let's see, being stuck with a beautiful woman, no I don't think so.” 

Violet huffed look away from him but a very visible blush exploded on her cheeks.

Chapter Text

-GARRICK-

They had been flying for hours, exhaustion pulling at Garrick’s limbs, the first hints of dawn breaking on the horizon. He could hear the steady beats of dragon and gryphon wings all around him—Imogen, Liam, and Syrena, all flying in formation, searching the dense terrain below.

It had been almost a full day since Tairn and Sgaeyl had taken off bringing Xaden and Violet with them.

Then, finally, he saw it.

A small flickering fire in the distance. 

“There,” he called out, signaling the others.

They descended swiftly, their dragons landing with practiced ease in a clearing near the fire. The moment they touched down, Garrick’s sharp eyes scanned the area.

Xaden and Violet were there, fast asleep against a tree.

Violet was curled in front of Xaden, his arms wrapped around her protectively. Their breathing was steady, peaceful—like they hadn’t been stranded in the middle of nowhere for an entire day.

Imogen huffed in disbelief, crossing her arms. “Of course the prince and the princess are sleeping while we’ve been searching for them for hours.”

Liam, ever the reasonable one, shook his head. “They’re kind of stranded, Im, and I don’t see Tairn or Sgaeyl anywhere.”

Garrick’s eyes scanned the tree line. No sign of the two massive dragons. That wasn’t exactly comforting.

With a sigh, he stepped forward and gave Xaden a rough shake.

“Your Highness. Time to wake up.”

Violet stirred first, her lashes fluttering as she blinked blearily up at him, still groggy from sleep.

Then realization hit. Garrick gave her a smile “Good Morning Ms. Violet, time to go.”

Her body went stiff when she noticed exactly where she was—pressed against Xaden, his arms still locked around her. Color flooded her cheeks, and she immediately tried to move.

But Xaden grumbled in protest, tightening his hold. “Don’t.”

Violet gasped.

Garrick exhaled slowly, shaking his head. His best friend was truly in trouble.

Without hesitation, he smacked Xaden on the back of his head. “Let her go, Your Highness. Time to wake up from your beautiful dream.”

Xaden groaned, finally waking. His dark eyes opened, groggy at first, but the second he saw their group standing there, he let out a slow breath and released Violet.

Violet shot up instantly, putting distance between them as she walked toward Liam, clearly seeking comfort in someone she trusted.

Xaden gave him an irritated look, rubbing his head.

“Oh, sorry for looking for you, Your Highness,” he said dryly.

Then, stepping closer, he dropped his voice into a whisper. “Thank the gods we were the ones who found you. Imagine if it had been her mother, or worse—her sister. Or Brennan. You’d be dead instead of saved.”

Xaden sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Right. Tairn and Sygael left us here yesterday, they went to those mountains.”

“Chradh said something about mates, General Sorrengail sent a missive to one of the professors expert in dragon kind,” Garrick informs him as he helped him pack his things.

“I’ll fly with Liam,” Violet said abruptly.

Both Garrick and Xaden turned to her at the same time.

Liam didn’t seem surprised, but the air around them shifted. Violet wasn’t just asking—she was choosing distance from his best friend. He wonders what happen between the two, while they were stranded. 

Xaden nodded once, unreadable, then shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Violet. “Wear this.”

She hesitated for a second before accepting it, pulling it over her shoulders.

Syrena let out a soft chuckle, crossing her arms. “He’s smitten, isn’t he?”

Garrick didn’t answer, though he knew the truth. No one had ever seen Xaden like this—not even with Catriona, Syrena’s sister, Xaden’s ex-fiancé.

Not that Garrick would ever say that out loud.

Instead, he smirked and clapped Xaden on the shoulder. “Come on, honey bear. You’re with me.”

-XADEN-

“They are mates,” Professor Kaori declared.

The words settled heavily in the air of General Sorrengail’s office, where Xaden and Violet had been immediately sequestered after their rescue. The room was full—General Sorrengail, King Fen, Mira, and the professor himself, an expert in dragon kind from Basgiath.

They are mates.

King Fen, Xaden’s father, exhaled sharply. “Tairn and Sgaeyl are mates?”

“Yes,” Kaori confirmed. “It appears so, based on their behavior. As soon as their eyes met, they felt it. They might be gone for a long time as they begin their mating ritual in Vale, they are in a process of wooing each other.”

“How long?” General Sorrengail asked, her expression unreadable.

“No one knows for sure, General. It could take weeks, even months—it depends on when Sgaeyl will accept Tairn’s advances.”

“When not If?” his father asked.

“There is no if, Your highness, dragons have one mate. Tairn is the second largest dragon recorded, he is black and Morningstartail —rare color and breed of tail— he is also considered one of the deadliest dragons in Navarre. In human terms one he is an eligible bachelor. Sgaeyl on the other hand a rare blue, finest female dragon. If you ask me they are kind of a perfect match.”

Xaden leaned back in his chair, processing. He already knew how rare mated dragons were, what it meant. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud—not yet.

“What does that mean for us?” Violet asked quietly.

Xaden’s attention snapped back to her.

She was sitting across from him, beside her mother and Mira, still wrapped in his flight jacket.

A smug grin tugged at his lips as he recalled Dain’s reaction when they had landed earlier. Dain had watched in silent fury as Violet climbed off Liam’s dragon—wearing Xaden’s jacket, not Aetos’.

Xaden made sure to smile at him then, just to rub it in.

Kaori cleared his throat. “You will feel what they feel. Tairn and Sgaeyl will amplify it as their mating progresses. I suggest you learn to shield better, and to do it well.”

Violet stiffened. “Feel what they feel?”

Kaori nodded, glancing between the two of them. “Yes. As their bond deepens, so will the connection between the two of you. Shielding will be essential to maintaining your focus.”

Xaden hummed in response, already imagining the implications.

Beside Violet, General Sorrengail and King Fen exchanged looks, their expressions unreadable.

After a moment, Lilith Sorrengail spoke. “Let’s discuss their arrangement once the dragons return. Mated dragons require—”

Xaden stopped listening.

He already knew what they were going to say. Mated dragons had to be together. No matter what negotiations took place in this room, one thing was certain—he was tethered to her now.

After the summit, he would have an excuse to see her again.

He imagined Violet in Tyrrendor.

Violet in his space.

Violet tangled up in—

He looked at her again, half-listening as she focused on Kaori. As if sensing his gaze, she turned, meeting his eyes.

Xaden smirked.

Then, he winked at her.

Violet’s scowl was immediate, her glare sharp as she turned back to Kaori.

He liked riling her up.

A sharp ahem pulled his attention to Mira, who was sitting beside her sister, arms crossed, her glare even sharper than Violet’s.

Damn.

Xaden leaned back in his chair, unfazed, but Mira’s silent warning was clear.

He was going to have to deal with her eventually.

-DRAKE-

Drake stepped onto the patio, freshly showered, the scent of coffee and warm pastries filling the air. After flying all day yesterday in search of Violet and Xaden, the palace staff had prepared an elaborate brunch for them.

He exhaled, watching as Mira ran straight to her sister when Violet landed. She was checking her for injuries, brushing away imaginary specks of dust, her expression lined with worry.

She would make a good queen.

He frowned at the thought, shaking it away as he turned toward the buffet table. He was going to eat, maybe catch a glimpse of Mira before he collapsed into bed for the rest of the day.

Syrena was already there, piling her plate with food. Drake joined her, filling his own.

She glanced at him. “Cat wrote. She wants to come for the ball.”

Drake groaned. “That would be a problem.”

He loved his cousin like a sister, but Cat—Catriona—could be a real nightmare, especially when it came to Xaden. She had never quite forgiven him for breaking off their engagement two years ago, even though she was now to be engaged to Trager, another noble and flier close to their family.

And Drake knew Cat. She would definitely try to mess with Violet.

He sighed as they sat at their table, joining Garrick, Imogen, and Liam.

Syrena turned to Garrick, clearly still on a previous topic. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Garrick, eating like he hadn’t been fed in a week, didn’t even look up. “You have eyes, Syrena. What do you think?”

Syrena opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Xaden appeared, taking a seat at their table.

Drake’s eyes immediately flicked to the buffet, spotting General Sorrengail approaching. So, the meeting’s over.

But where was Mira?

“So?” he asked Xaden.

Xaden stretched, looking entirely too pleased. “Sygael and Tairn are mates.”

Garrick snorted into his breakfast. “What?”

“Well, that’s complicated,” Imogen muttered.

Xaden smirked, he is fucking happy?

Drake narrowed his eyes. “And what does that mean for you?”

“I’m tethered to Violet.”

Ah no wonder he was so smug. 

Sova can you—

No! You used to be smart what is happening to you. Sovadunn said then reinforced the shield between them.

Drake didn’t have time to respond before Mira appeared, striding toward their table, her glare fixed on Xaden.

But before she reached him, a maid intercepted her, holding a bouquet of flowers. Those flowers again, who the fuck keeps on giving her flowers.

“Ms. Mira, these came for you.”

Mira didn’t even look at the flowers. “Throw them out.” 

“But, Ms. Mira, your mother said—”

Mira clicked her tongue, snatching the bouquet from the maid. Without even glancing at it, she turned, glaring in her mother’s direction before walking to the nearest table and throwing the flowers there herself.

Drake can't help the smirk forming on his lips. Yes, That is my Vicious Princess.

Then she turned back to Xaden, expression deadly. “You. Come with me.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away.

Xaden sighed, but he stood and followed without argument.

Garrick, watching the whole scene unfold, muttered under his breath, “She’s terrifying.”

Drake smirked. “You have no idea.”

There was a war between Mira and her mother. That much was clear.

Drake had seen the tension simmering between them since they arrived, but Mira’s fury at the flowers only confirmed it. Lilith Sorrengail had not allowed Mira to help in the search for Violet. But why? Mira was a dragon rider, a warrior. She had every right to be on the front lines with the rest of them.

Drake stood and picked up the discarded bouquet. White tulips.

He exhaled sharply, taking the card and flipping it open.

----------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps white tulips? I'll be in Calldyr soon. I hope to see you. —T.A.

----------------------------------------------------------

His jaw clenched.

He crumpled the card, picked up the flowers, and tossed them into the trash.

Drake had known for a while that someone had been sending Mira flowers, but this? Hope to see you soon? Who the hell was T.A.?

His first instinct was to ask Vince or Kael. They were closest to Mira. They’d know. But he held back. The more important question was—why did Mira keep throwing the flowers away?

Did she hate flowers? Or just the person sending them?

He needed to know.

Drake walked out of the patio and into the hall where Mira and Xaden had gone. Their voices drifted toward him, low but intense, clearly discussing Violet and the implications of their dragons mating.

That’s going to be a mess when Cat gets here.

He leaned against the wall, waiting. A moment later, Mira turned in his direction.

Drake intercepted her before she could walk away.

He flashed her a smirk. “Hi, Vicious.”

Mira rolled her eyes and breezed past him, completely ignoring him.

Drake chuckled, watching her go.

Fine my Vicious Ice Princess, soon you will thaw for me.

-XADEN-

Xaden followed Mira through the halls, her sharp footsteps leading him into a quiet alcove. The dim lighting softened the hard edges of her face, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable. She wasn’t here to chat.

The second they were alone, Mira crossed her arms, pinning him with a look that had likely sent entire riot scrambling.

“Say whatever you need to say, Ms. Sorrengail,” Xaden said, leaning casually against the wall. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, but he could already see it coming.

Mira’s jaw tightened. “I see the way you look at Violet.”

Xaden tilted his head. “And?”

“And if you’re not serious about her—if you’re just playing some game—then walk away now,” she said, voice deadly calm. “Because the complications of Tairn and Sygael being mates will already make things difficult. The last thing she needs is a distraction that’ll only hurt her in the end.”

Xaden smirked. “And what if she wants me?”

Mira’s glare sharpened. “Then I’ll support her—her not you.”

His smirk widened slightly—she hadn’t expected that answer.

“But,” she continued, stepping closer, her voice dropping into something far more dangerous, “if you hurt her, I will destroy you.”

Xaden chuckled, unfazed. “You’d try.”

Mira didn’t blink. “I wouldn’t need to try, Riorson. I would.”

Something about her certainty made his amusement fade slightly.

Xaden straightened, meeting her gaze head-on. “I don’t play games with things that matter.”

Mira studied him for a long moment, searching for a lie.

Whatever she saw must have satisfied her, because she finally exhaled, though the tension in her posture didn’t fully ease. “Then don’t screw this up.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Xaden alone in the alcove.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

Mated dragons. An ice queen sister. And Violet Sorrengail.

He was in so much trouble.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he listened to Felix lay out everything they’d gathered so far. The lounge was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of coffee and aged wood. The weight of the conversation was pressing down on everyone, but Xaden had learned to thrive under pressure.

“So, what we know is this,” Felix said, pacing. “Dragon mating while bonded to riders are rare. Extremely rare. But when it happens, the bond affects not just the dragons but the riders, too. Their emotions, their magic—it all intensifies. Which means…”

“We might still feel them while shielding,” Xaden finished for him, voice flat.

Felix nodded. “Yes intense.”

Drake, who had been quiet for most of the discussion, finally spoke. “There’s more. General Sorrengail has forbidden Mira from leaving Calldyr.”

Xaden narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Drake mused. “We suspect it has to do with her signet. Both General Sorrengail and Brennan have powerful signets.” 

“They must be powerful,” Bodhi added, “both of them. It makes sense, doesn’t it? General Sorrengail wouldn’t cage Mira unless it was absolutely necessary.”

Xaden mulled that over. He had noticed something was off, especially with how tense Mira had been. If her signet was rare—and powerful—then her mother keeping her under close watch meant there was something dangerous at play.

“And Violet?” he asked, shifting his gaze to Felix.

Felix hesitated. “There’s a strong chance she has two signets.”

Two signets just like him, no one knows he has two and he can't even use the other he has to be careful in Calldyr. Silence stretched between them as that sank in.

Xaden clenched his jaw. “Because she’s bonded to two dragons.”

The conversation continued on their observations on the legacies friendship dynamics, Halden and Mira were the ringleaders but Halden often follows Mira's command more, Violet although not front she was definitely in the center of it all. The rest follows, they are still wary of Dain Aetos good thing he was rarely present. 

Liam let out a low whistle. “Mira and Violet are something else. It’s almost poetic.”

Xaden and Drake shot him a look.

Liam grinned. “What? I'm always with them. It’s just—Mira is like an ice queen. Cold fury. And Violet? She’s the fire queen. Burns hot when pissed off.”

Drake smirked and Xaden huffed out a quiet laugh. “Accurate.”

“Well, their mother is General Sorrengail.” Brennan adds.

The conversation took a sharp turn when Felix dropped another piece of information.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Catriona is coming for the ball.”

Xaden’s muscles tensed immediately. Garrick tsked then looks at Drake, “No offense, but your cousin is... something else.”

Drake sighed shaking his head like he is exhausted thinking about it, “I know.”

Xaden didn’t miss the way his father’s expression flickered—just for a second—before going neutral again.

King Fen wasn’t an easy man to read, but Xaden knew him well enough. His father still secretly wanted him to reconsider the engagement to Cat.

As if that was ever going to happen.

Xaden had made his stance clear years ago. Yet, despite all his refusals, despite Cat’s upcoming engagement to Trager, there was still an unspoken pressure lingering between him and his father.

It was why he had distanced himself over the years.

Xaden clenched his jaw and stood, stretching his arms. “Let her come.” His voice was sharp, dismissive. “She won’t change anything.”

Brennan raised a brow. “Sure about that?”

Xaden met his gaze, cold and unwavering. “Absolutely.”

Xaden walked through the halls toward the flight field with Bodhi, Garrick, and Drake flanking him, their boots echoing against the stone floors. The mood was light—too light—and he could already sense he was about to be the unfortunate target of their amusement.

“So,” Garrick began, a smirk tugging at his lips, “you feeling anything yet?”

Xaden narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Bodhi slung an arm around Xaden’s shoulders, far too gleeful for his liking. “You do remember that Sgaeyl is currently off mating with Tairn, right?”

Xaden stiffened. Of course he knew. He had been trying not to think about it. But now, with them reminding him? A slow, simmering heat burned under his skin, like a warning before an inevitable explosion.

“Oh, shit,” Garrick cackled. “You are feeling something, aren’t you?”

Xaden scowled. “Shut up.”

Drake smirked, hands in his pockets. “Better find a churam or a bedmate,” he mused. “It’s only going to get worse.”

Bodhi snickered. “Yeah, unless you want to suffer through the most frustrating day of your life.”

“I can handle it,” Xaden muttered, jaw tightening.

But Garrick, the absolute menace, just had to push further. “Sorrengail sisters’ are off-limits, though,” he added with a pointed look. “Just in case you were considering.”

Drake’s gaze sharpened. “Yeah, Mira is definitely off-limits.”

Xaden rolled his eyes. “Not interested.”

Bodhi hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder if Violet will take a bedmate, though.”

Xaden’s head snapped toward him so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. “What?”

Bodhi smirked, sensing weakness. “Well, she’s bonded to Tairn, I don't know how good she is with shields but she still might feel some of the effects, right? Maybe she’ll get… restless.”

Garrick joined in, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You think she’d go to Aetos? They have history.”

Xaden growled, low and deep. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Bodhi teased, grinning. “It makes sense. She trusts him, and base on your pissing contest the other day he clearly has feelings for her.”

Xaden clenched his fists. “It’s not happening.”

Garrick tilted his head. “True, true. Could be someone else, It could be Liam. I mean, everyone likes Liam. And she’s been getting closer to him lately…”

Bodhi chuckled. “Oh yeah, Liam’s a good choice. She might pick him instead.”

The growl that ripped from Xaden’s throat was pure instinct.

Drake and Garrick howled with laughter. Bodhi just smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

“Gods, you’re so easy,” Garrick gasped between laughs.

Xaden scowled at all of them, his temper rising. “I will kill all of you.”

“Relax, brooding prince. It’s all hypothetical.” Drake grins at him.

Bodhi just clapped a hand on Xaden’s shoulder as they walk to the flight field leaving Xaden to walk towards the dais.

But Xaden knew it wasn’t. He wasn’t blind. Violet was beautiful, sharp, and strong. Any man would be a fool not to want her. And the worst part? She didn’t even realize the effect she had on people.

And now, thanks to these idiots, he had a new problem.

Because if Violet did decide to take a bedmate…

There was no force on this continent that could stop him from losing his damn mind.

Xaden stepped onto the flight field, watching as the others prepared for their flight around the city. Dragons and gryphons stretched their wings, riders and fliers secured on their back, and the energy buzzed with anticipation. He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. Normally, he’d be up there too, but with Sgaeyl still off mating, he was grounded.

Just as he was about to turn away, movement from the makeshift dais caught his eye.

Violet.

His brows furrowed in surprise. She stood there, arms crossed, her usual uniform crisp and fitted—plaid skirt, button-down shirt, and thigh-high boots. Her silver hair, woven into a perfect crown braid, caught the sunlight like threads of moonlight.

Without thinking, Xaden made his way toward her, stopping just beside her. She didn’t acknowledge him immediately, her sharp eyes fixed on the field, watching as Mira, Garrick, Cam, and the others took off with their dragons.

And fuck, she smelled good.

Lavender. Fresh and light, with an underlying hint of something warm and addictive.

He inhaled again, deliberately this time.

Yeah. Definitely lavender.

“Violence, You’re not flying with them?” he asked, keeping his voice casual.

Violet finally turned her head slightly toward him, her expression neutral. “No. Andarna’s sulking.”

Xaden smirked. “She’s sulking?”

Violet sighed. “She’s not happy that she was left behind. She really has a mind of her own, that one.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s why they call her the princess, huh?”

“Exactly.” Violet rolled her eyes but smiled slightly. “She does what she wants. She actually promised to make Tairn miserable when he gets back.”

Xaden chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching as the others lifted off one by one. The wind shifted, sending a cool breeze between them, and suddenly, Violet inhaled sharply.

Xaden glanced at her. “What?”

Her eyes flicked up to his, slightly wide, and then—gods—her face turned pink.

“You—” She hesitated, then shook her head, biting her lip.

“What?” he repeated, amused now.

“You smell good.” The words came out fast, like she regretted them immediately.

Xaden blinked. Then grinned.

Violet’s eyes went even wider. “I mean—nothing! I don’t know why I said that!” She turned away, flustered, shifting on her feet.

Xaden laughed. A real, deep laugh.

Then, because he couldn’t resist, he leaned just a little closer, lowering his voice. “Really? What do I smell like?”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Nope. Not answering that.”

He smirked. “Come on, Violence. You already said it.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, but he caught the tiny smile tugging at her lips.

Xaden extended his arm toward her, teasing. “How about a walk? Since we’re tethered, we should get to know each other better.”

Violet hesitated, eyeing his arm like it might explode.

He grinned. “You can smell me all you like.”

She huffed, shoving his arm away, but after a moment, she looped her hand through anyway.

“Fine,” she said, exasperated. “I guess we are stuck again with each other we should at least be friendly… for Tairn and Sgaeyl’s sake.”

Xaden’s smirk widened as he led them toward the path.

-DRAKE-

Drake was still grinning from teasing Xaden when his eyes landed on the one person who could completely steal his attention.

Mira.

Standing on the flight field, looking effortlessly untouchable as always. The sun glinted off her golden-brown hair, catching in the braids woven tightly to keep it from her face. Her uniform fit snugly—battle-ready, formidable, irresistible.

Without a second thought, Drake ran toward her.

The moment she caught sight of him, her expression shifted—half irritation, half amusement.

Drake’s grin widened. “Hello, Vicious.”

Mira smirked but immediately turned in the opposite direction, completely ignoring him.

“Hello, pesky prince.” She mutters

Drake huffed a laugh. Predictable. She could try to escape, but he was nothing if not persistent.

He smoothly stepped around her, tilting his head so his face was directly in front of hers, blocking her view. “Uh-huh,” he drawled, his grin widening. “What’s my name, Vicious?”

Mira let out a frustrated sigh, her sharp eyes narrowing. “Ugh! Why are you everywhere?”

Drake merely raised a brow, smug. “Did you forget about my condition last time?”

Her jaw clenched slightly, and for just a moment, she didn’t answer.

Drake leaned in, lowering his voice just enough that only she could hear. “You know, before we got interrupted by that maid after we got back from our… night activity.”

Mira’s eyes snapped to his, alarm flashing across her face. She swatted his arm, glancing around. “Stop! Someone might hear you.”

Drake smirked. “Why? You worried they’ll get the wrong idea?” He leaned just a fraction closer, eyes gleaming. “Or the right one?”

Mira scoffed, crossing her arms. “Why do you make it sound like there’s something between us?”

His smirk deepened. “Oh? There isn’t?” He tilted his head. “I don’t know… I felt the chemistry.”

Mira laughed, rolling her eyes. “Please. You and me? No.”

With that, she mounted her green dragon without another glance back.

Drake just smirked as he swung onto Sova’s back.

His gryphon huffed through their bond. You really have a death wish. The vicious woman does not like you. Take the hint.

Drake chuckled. Not yet, Sova. But she will.

-XADEN-

The stone pathways of the fortress stretched before them, winding through the training grounds and past the barracks. Xaden walked at an easy pace, his arm relaxed but steady beneath Violet’s grip.

She kept glancing at him like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of this—of them.

“You know,” he drawled, breaking the silence, “You are staring again you must really like me, Violence.”

Violet scoffed, her grip tightening for just a moment before she loosened it, feigning indifference. “I tolerate you. There’s a difference.”

“Tolerate me?” He smirked. “That’s interesting, considering you just told me I smell good.”

She groaned, looking up at the sky like she was praying for patience. “Are you really not going to let that go?”

“Not a chance.”

Violet huffed, but there was amusement in her eyes. “Fine. Since you’re so curious, I’ll tell you what you smell like.”

Xaden arched a brow. “By all means.”

She took a deliberate breath, as if considering. “Arrogance. You smell like arrogance.”

He chuckled. “Arrogance has a scent now?”

“Oh, absolutely.” She shot him a sly look. “It smells like someone who thinks very highly of himself.”

Xaden grinned. “Well, it’s not my fault that I have good instincts.”

“Good instincts?” She turned to face him fully now, walking a bit sideways. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “Like knowing you’re pretending to be annoyed right now, but you actually don’t mind this.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He smirked. “You’re still holding onto my arm.”

Violet immediately let go and crossed her arms. “I take it back. You’re insufferable.”

Xaden laughed. “See, that’s the thing about us, Violence. You insult me, but you’re still here. Walking with me. Entertaining my so-called arrogance.”

She muttered something under her breath that he didn’t quite catch, but he was willing to bet it was a colorful insult.

They strolled toward the edge of the training fields, where a small ridge overlooked the valley below. The sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows over the land. It was quiet here, away from the usual noise of the fortress.

Violet let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing.

Xaden took the moment to study her. He’d always known she was sharp, fierce in battle—but there was something else beneath all of that. Something softer. He wondered if many people got to see this side of her, or if she kept it locked away like a secret.

“So,” he said, tilting his head, “are we actually going to be friends? Or are you just humoring me?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “Do I have a choice we are stuck together... we could be friends.”

“Could?” He smirked. “I’m sensing a condition.”

“Oh, there’s definitely a condition.” She turned to him with a serious expression. “No more calling me Violence.”

Xaden blinked. “Absolutely not.”

Violet groaned. “Prince Xaden—”

“Nope,” he cut in, grinning. “It’s non-negotiable.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Then I’m calling you Brooding Prince forever.”

Forever huh? Xaden chuckled. “I can live with that.”

Violet shook her head, but there was a small smile playing on her lips. “Fine. Friends… for now.”

Xaden held out his hand. “For now.”

She eyed it warily before finally shaking it.

And as their fingers touched, something unspoken passed between them—a connection, a shift in whatever this was between them.

Xaden smirked.

Chapter Text

-DRAKE-

There is tension in the palace.

It always was when General Sorrengail and Mira were in the same room.

Even without words, everyone could feel Mira’s quiet defiance, the way she sat stiffly, jaw locked, answering her mother with clipped responses or pointed silence. It was a battle of wills, one that played out in every glance, every unspoken challenge.

Drake had seen war, had stood on the front lines against enemies that would tear him apart without hesitation, but this?

This was something else. 

The air in the room practically hummed with it, making every soldier, rider, and noble at the room tread carefully.

At dinner Mira, Alic, and Halden were nowhere to be found tonight, which only made the weight in the room heavier.

Across from him, Xaden and Violet were talking—still distant, but something was shifting between them. A growing understanding, maybe even the beginning of trust.

At least Violet wasn’t scowling at him. Progress.

Drake, however, kept looking at the empty seat where Mira should have been.

Halfway through dinner, he couldn’t help himself.

Turning to Violet, he asked in an easy, casual tone, “Where’s your sister?”

She gave him a look. A knowing one.

“She’s currently at war with our mom,” Violet answered dryly. “She’ll keep pushing until Mom bends, or they reach a compromise.”

Syrena scoffed. “The General bends? Compromise?”

“Rarely,” Ridoc said, shoveling food into his mouth. “But usually for Mira.”

Drake frowned.

His mind ran over the day—after their flight at the meeting, the tension between Mira and General Sorrengail, her defiance. And then, realization struck.

“She hasn’t eaten today,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Violet nodded. “Not even at lunch.”

That was not good.

Drake sat back, remembering how Mira had scowled at him earlier, accusing him of being everywhere.

Fine.

Then he’d be everywhere.

Without a word, he stood, his chair scraping against the floor.

As he left, he signaled a maid. “Prepare a plate. lots of broccoli.”

Once the food was secured, he set off, determination thrumming through him.

Drake moved through the empty lounge, his boots echoing softly against the polished floors. The halls were quiet, the dim candlelight casting long shadows as he strode forward, still holding the plate of food in one hand.

"My prince, are you a maid now?"

Sova’s voice rang through their bond, laced with amusement.

Drake reinforced his mental shield, unwilling to deal with his gryphon’s teasing right now.

As he reached the courtyard, his gaze lifted toward Mira’s tower window. Dark.

She wasn’t there either.

His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching, feeling—and then, he found her.

Sitting on the sloped roof, bathed in moonlight, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared at the sky.

Drake’s brows lifted. How the fuck did she get up there?

He approached a nearby guard. “How do I get up there?”

The guard hesitated, then gestured toward the library. “There’s a small study inside. The window there leads to the roof.”

Drake nodded and made his way inside, weaving through the rows of books until he found the open window. The night air was cool against his skin as he hoisted himself up, muscles flexing as he climbed out onto the roof.

Mira must have sensed him because she turned, her expression immediately shifting into a scowl.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Drake grinned. “Vicious, I swear, you’re like a cat.”

Her eyes flicked to the plate in his hand, but her expression remained unimpressed. “Answer my question.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted some fresh air.”

Then, without waiting for her permission, he settled down beside her.

She huffed. “This is my spot.”

“Can you not share?” He smirked, placing the plate between them. “I’ll share my food.”

“I’m not—” she started, but before she could finish, her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.

Drake bit back a laugh. Instead, he casually picked up a piece of steak and popped it into his mouth, pretending not to notice. Then, as if making an offhand comment, he said, “Come on, I asked them to put extra broccoli. You like broccoli, yeah? Saw Halden giving you his.”

Mira stayed silent for a moment, but then she reached for the fork and speared a piece of broccoli.

Drake smiled—but he looked away before she could see. He knew better than to spook her.

She chewed, watching him cautiously, and after a beat, she took a piece of steak.

“If you’re going to be annoying, you may leave,” she muttered.

“I think I’ll stay,” Drake replied easily.

He leaned back, resting his arms behind his head as he reclined against the sloped roof, closing his eyes as the breeze passed over them.

He could feel her gaze lingering on him.

So, after a few moments, he cracked one eye open—just to check.

Mira was still eating, but her gaze remained locked on him.

Their eyes met, and they stayed like that. One. Two. Three… Eight beats.

Then, as if realizing she had been caught, Mira quickly averted her gaze, a faint flush dusting her cheeks. 

“Thank you,” she mutters

Drake smirked, satisfied, and shut his eyes again.

He didn’t know why, but something about this—them—felt right.

It wasn’t just the banter, the challenge, the way she pushed back against him at every turn.

It was also the quiet moments.

Like sitting beside her now, under the moonlight, her presence steady beside him.

He had felt it before—when he had sat beside her as she slept the other day.

And the realization hit him like a lightning strike.

He craved this, her presence, her smile, her scowl, her ire. 

He craved her.

-MIRA-

Mira groaned as she rolled onto her side, pressing her face into the pillow. Another sleepless night. And she knew exactly who to blame.

Pesky Prince Drake Cordella.

The prince who did not know when to stop—who was everywhere, inescapable, persistent.

Infuriating.

She huffed and sat up, rubbing her temples. Last night, after a full day of avoiding food, she had planned to continue doing so—until he found her.

On her roof.

Bringing her food smiling smugly. And worse? He had stayed.

Mira clenched her jaw. She should have insisted him to leave. She should have left him. Should have resisted.

But the smell of steak and broccoli had been too much.

She had eaten. And she had felt better for it.

But she would never admit that.

Never! Teine agreed.

Throwing off the blankets, she swung her legs over the bed and exhaled sharply. Her muscles were tense from exhaustion, her mind still spiraling from the never-ending battle she was waging with her mother.

Three years ago, after her fourth assassination attempt, her mother had sequestered her in Calldyr, locking her away like some fragile pawn.

And then, a year ago, she had done the same to Violet after an attempted assassination when bonded Tairn and Andarna.

She remembered her mother's icy stare when she made her stance very clear—Mira was not to be involved in the search for Violet.

The rage simmered under her skin, hot and sharp, pushing her to her feet. That feeling of hopelessness because she can't help find Violet.

Although she has not seen battle, she was a warrior. A Sorrengail.

And she would not back down.

Pride flickers through her bond with Teine. You are better than most but your mother has reasons.

Her fingers twitched, reaching for the sword leaning against the nightstand. She needed distraction. Something to hit.

But then—her stomach twisted, a hollow reminder of what she had been neglecting.

And Mira cursed under her breath because now she was thinking about him.

About the way he had sat beside her last night, unbothered, stretching out on the roof like he belonged there. About the way he had watched her eat but never pushed, never made a comment. Just let her be.

She hated that his presence calmed her.

Hated that she had felt something.

Mira scowled at herself.

That pesky prince was everywhere.

He is, but why does your mind keep coming back to that Prince. Shut it down! Teine chastised her.

I'm trying.

Try harder! I don't like where this is going. 

Mira sighed let the warm water wash away the remnants of sleep, rolling her shoulders as steam curled around her. Today, they were heading into the city—a casual stroll, nothing official, yet she knew the expectations.

Proper. Preppy. Conforming.

The thought made her smirk as she stepped out of the shower.

Not today.

She picked out her shortest skirt, the fabric barely brushing mid-thigh. Paired it with an oversized white button-down reached until her mid-thigh, then layered it with a loose V-neck sweater. The finishing touch? A delicate black ribbon tied at her collar.

Stepping in front of the mirror, she tilted her head. From the right angle, it looked like a short dress on her.

Still preppy but not conforming. Perfect.

Sliding into her black boots, she smirked at her reflection. Mira has always tried to be perfect general’s daughter, but not today.

With that thought fueling her, she strode down the hall to her mother’s private dining room, where breakfast and lunch were usually held. The scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries filled the air as she stepped inside.

Violet was already seated, dressed in the standard uniform—a stark contrast to Mira’s rebellious ensemble. Her sister barely glanced up before doing a double take, her brows shooting up.

Mira just grinned.

Walking up behind Violet, she pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Good morning!” she chirped before slipping into her usual seat.

Violet studied her. “You look stylish.”

Mira reached for the kettle of coffee, pouring herself some before responding, “Why, do you like it?”

Violet nods biting on her toast “I think you will set a trend again. Only you can pull it off.”

A sly smirk curled at the edges of her lips. “I heard from Ridoc and Rhi that you were cozying up with Prince Xaden.”

Violet nearly choked on her toast. She shot her sister a glare. “Excuse me?”

Mira, looking far too pleased with herself, sipped her coffee. “That’s what they said.”

“We need to be at least friend for Tairn and Sgaeyl.” Then, as if Violet had just remembered something, “Oh, and speaking of princes—I think I saw Prince Drake last night, wandering around the palace with a plate.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

Violet leaned forward, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “And he was asking everyone where you were.” She dropped her voice to mimic him, exaggerating his deep tone. ‘Where is your sister?’ ‘She has not eaten yet.’

Mira rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Vi.”

Violet just giggled. “I think he likes—”

Before Mira could throw a piece of toast at her and Violet finish her sentence, the door opened, and their mother strode in, moving with the same unshakable presence she always carried.

Lilith Sorrengail took her seat at the head of the table, her sharp eyes settling immediately on Mira’s outfit.

Mira felt the weight of her mother’s stare, the disapproval thick in the silence.

She raised her chin in defiance.

Lilith’s expression remained unreadable, but the tension in the room crackled like a live wire.

Mira simply picked up her coffee, took a slow sip, and smirked.

Game on. She should try for Violet. 

Mira didn’t touch the food in front of her. She simply sipped her coffee, letting the bitter warmth coat her throat as she leaned back in her chair. Across from her, Violet ate in silence, glancing between her and their mother like she was waiting for an explosion.

Lilith sighed as she spread butter on her toast. “Mira, eat your breakfast.”

A command, not a request.

Mira set her cup down, tilting her head. “Sure.” She paused, letting her voice turn almost sweet. “That is if you let Violet and I will come with them to the summer castle.”

Lilith stilled.

Mira didn’t miss the slight twitch in her mother’s jaw, the subtle way she placed her knife down too carefully. They both knew she wouldn’t let them go without her.

A silent battle waged between them, ice meeting ice.

Violet, sensing the shift, straightened in her chair, her eyes flickering with cautious hope.

For a moment, it seemed like their mother wouldn’t bend. Then, Lilith closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose.

“Done,” she said. “But you will not participate in the hunt, and you will entertain suitors next week. I am getting tired of them asking for your time.”

Mira’s fingers curled against her coffee cup, her jaw clenching. She knew there would be a price. 

Fine. She could play this game, too.

“Fine,” she said smoothly, lifting her chin. “But it will be on my terms.”

Silence. Everything in Violet and Mira's life is on her mother's terms. 

Lilith considered this, the weight of her gaze pressing down like a storm about to break. Finally, she nodded once.

“Okay.”

Violet let out a small breath, a barely contained yes lighting up her expression. Mira turned to her, smirking as she popped a grape into her mouth.

Violet grinned.

Mira winked at her.

From the bond, Teine’s voice hummed with amusement. Well played, my vicious one. Glad that’s over. I’m tired of avoiding Aimsir.

Mira snorted softly. Teine, don't call me vicious! 

Chapter Text

-DRAKE-

Drake stood in the courtyard, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket, pretending to listen as Xaden and Halden exchanged stiff pleasantries. It was supposed to be a simple public outing—a symbol of unity between Tyrrendor, Poromiel, and Navarre.

And then Mira walked out.

Drake’s entire world slowed.

Gone was the usual preppy uniform that he had grown accustomed to seeing her wear—skirts, stockings, button-down shirts that screamed General’s Daughter.

Instead, she was dressed in something far more distracting.

A white button-down shirt, oversized but barely skimming mid-thigh. A thick sweater layered over it, just as short. No stockings. Just boots. And her legs—long, smooth, and utterly on display as she descended the steps.

His eyes trailed down her form, lingering where a dagger winked at him from her left thigh, strapped and ready. A reminder—as if he needed one—that she wasn’t just a beautiful woman. She was a warrior. Deadly and untouchable.

And yet, all he could think about was touching her.

A sharp elbow to his ribs jolted him back to reality.

“Violet said you won the war with the General,” Cam commented, smirking as he glanced at Mira.

Drake tore his gaze away and exhaled slowly, trying to regain his composure.

Mira, already grinning as she approached, shrugged lightly. “It was more like a compromise.”

“So, are you coming to the summer castle with us?” Alic asked, falling into step beside her.

Mira’s smile grew even brighter, her eyes briefly meeting Drake’s before flicking away. “She was persuaded.”

Drake’s jaw tightened. They're not suppose to come? She needed to persuade her mother so Violet and her could come, to the point of starving herself. 

Mira had won against her mother. Or, at the very least, forced a compromise. Not an easy feat, considering who Lilith Sorrengail was.

Drake listened with half an ear as Cam, Liam, Alic, and Halden continued their chatter, their excitement growing now that Mira and Violet would be joining them at the summer castle.

His eyes traced over her once more—this outfit, the rebellious choice of it, the way she had walked out of the palace with her chin held high, daring anyone to challenge her.

This wasn’t just about clothes. It was a statement. A challenge. A defiance against expectation.

And fuck, did he admire her for it.

But admiration wasn’t the only thing he felt, he felt the need to get close to her.

Before Halden could claim her attention entirely, Drake moved.

He stepped up to her, his presence cutting off whatever Halden had been about to say. “Morning, Vicious,” he greeted smoothly, offering his arm.

Mira blinked at him, momentarily surprised. He could see the hesitation in her eyes—not because she disliked the idea, but because she wasn't used to accepting gestures like this from him, but there is something shifted between them last night when he brought her food. They are like in a truce, and Drake would be damned if he won't use it to get even closer to her.

After a brief pause, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. As she  greets him “Morning, Pesky,”

A thrill shot through him at the simple contact.

Look at my prince being rewarded today, Sova teased him. 

See that, make sure to be acquainted to her dragon. 

Oh please, you have a long way to go.

He led her toward the carriage, resisting the urge to smirk when he felt the heat of her hand against his arm. Once they reached the carriage, he helped her inside, his touch lingering for just a fraction longer than necessary.

And then, somehow, someway—he ended up seated next to her.

Drake exhaled slowly, biting back the grin threatening to form.

-XADEN-

This was supposed to be a relaxing outing.

A simple public appearance to showcase the alliance between Navarre, Tyrrendor, and Poromiel. A few leisurely hours of strolling through the town, browsing shops, and maybe—if they were lucky—finding something worth buying.

It was not relaxing.

Guards surrounded them in a tight formation, keeping the press at bay. Journalists from all three nations lurked at the edges, their sharp eyes dissecting every interaction, their hands busy sketching or scribbling notes. Even the citizens watched from the sidewalks, murmuring among themselves as the group passed.

The only good thing about this outing?

Violet.

She was in a good mood today—cheerful, bright-eyed. Xaden glanced at her, wondering if it was because she finally got to leave the palace.

They moved as a unit, trained but casual. Violet walked with Liam and Rhiannon, flanked by Sawyer, Cam, and Ridoc, forming what felt like their own squad. Xaden walked a few steps behind with Drake, Garrick, and Bodhi, while Mira, Halden, and Alic led the front. Syrena and Imogen had opted out of this mess, which, in hindsight, was probably the smarter choice.

People stared, some openly, some pretending not to. The journalists sketched quickly, capturing how their group moved together, their body language, the unspoken hierarchy of leadership.

Mira, ever the leader, took charge. “Let's get coffee,” she ordered, nodding toward a large coffee shop with floor-to-ceiling windows.

No one questioned her. They stepped inside, grateful to escape the chaos outside.

Xaden maneuvered to sit beside Violet. Liam took the seat on her other side.

He and Violet were somewhat friends now but Liam and Violet are something else, they are closer. Although he keeps reassuring Xaden that they are just friends that Xaden wasn’t tempted to break his nose every time he spoke to Violet.

Settling back in his seat, Xaden draped an arm over the back of Violet’s chair, his fingers grazing the fabric of her jacket. She smelled good—warm and soft, like vanilla and lavender. He smirked to himself when she didn’t tense at the proximity.

She was talking to Liam, her focus entirely on whatever they were discussing. Xaden barely heard the conversation, too preoccupied with a single thought:

If I take her hand, will she let me? Or will she pull away?

Before he could act on it, she called his name.

“Xaden.”

He looked at her, not responding immediately. He liked the way she said his name.

Violet frowned, confused by his silence. “What? You said to call you Xaden.”

He still didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her lips the way she said his makes his heart jump.

Violet’s brow furrowed, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Xaden smirked. “No reason.”

Liam coughed, barely holding back a grin. Rhiannon just rolled her eyes.

Violet huffed, “They are asking for your order, your highness.”

Xaden shrugged “Just get me what you are getting.”

Violet sighed, turns to Rhi who is assigned to get their orders. “Fine he will have a mocha.”

Xaden smiled satisfied that she orders for him, he leaned in slightly, voice low enough for only her to hear.

“I like it when you say my name, Violence.”

Violet frowned at him then looks away, but she can't hide the blush all the way to the tips of her ears. 

Rhi finished telling the server their order when Cam glanced around the group. “Where do you guys want to go next?”

Xaden didn’t bother answering. He was preoccupied—absently twirling a loose strand of Violet’s hair between his fingers. She had it in her usual crown braid, only half up, the other half left cascading down her back. Without thinking, he brought the piece he was playing with under his nose, inhaling the lavender scent.

A sharp kick landed against his shin.

Xaden snapped his gaze to Garrick, who just raised a brow in warning. Beside him, Bodhi was glaring too, his expression clearly saying, What the fuck are you doing?

Xaden just smirked and glanced at the rest of the table—only to realize Drake, Mira, Alic and Halden were watching him.

He caught Mira’s unimpressed stare. She rolled her eyes, then picked up her iced coffee like she was beyond done with his antics.

Xaden straightened his spine but didn’t move his arm from where it rested on the back of Violet’s chair.

Their group continued on their small talks. As the server placed their drinks on the table. Mira, set the next plan. “When we go out again, you three need to walk beside each other and talk. Show the people you are socializing.” She directed her gaze at him, Halden, and Drake, nodding firmly.

Drake, leaning back lazily in his chair, gave an exaggerated sigh but nodded. Halden simply smirked in amusement.

Mira continued, “Let’s walk the strip. If you want to go into a shop, just let the group know, okay?”

A chorus of agreement followed.

Then she turned to Violet, already anticipating her complaint before she could even open her mouth. “You don’t need another pen, Vi.”

Violet groaned dramatically, slumping back in her chair.

Xaden smirked. Cute. I should get her pens later.

With that settled, they all stood and stepped out of the coffee shop, back into the chaos of the public eye.

They walked as a unit down the bustling strip of shops, Drake positioned at the center, Xaden to his left, and Halden to his right.

Xaden was civil with Halden, but friends? Not even close. Drake, on the other hand, made an effort to keep the conversation going, throwing out small talk between them. Xaden only half-listened, nodding when necessary, but his attention kept drifting forward.

Violet.

She walked just ahead of them, animated as she spoke with Liam, Rhi, and the others. Her movements were easy, relaxed—she was actually enjoying this outing.

Then a voice from behind broke through the usual noise of the crowd.

“Mira! Violet!”

Teenage girls, excited and wide-eyed, called their names.

Xaden watched as both Mira and Violet turned, smiling and waving at the group.

Violet’s smile was breathtaking. The kind that made his chest feel tight, like he needed to look away but couldn’t. She looked so effortlessly radiant in the moment, happy and free.

Then, as if realizing the attention, she suddenly looked embarrassed and grabbed Liam’s arm, hiding herself. Fucking adorable.

Xaden realize he likes everything Violet does, it entice him.

“Mira and Violet are popular. You will see more of that when we go out.” Cam explained to Bodhi when he aske why they know the sisters. 

Liam turns to call back to them, “We’re stopping by that clothing store.”

Xaden, Bodhi, Garrick, Drake, Halden, and Cam stayed outside while the others went in. The energy outside was light, filled with casual conversation and a few shared laughs, but something felt off.

Then Xaden noticed it—the crowd was growing. More people stopping, watching, whispering. The journalists were still sketching and observing, but now civilians were adding to the numbers. But there is also that feeling he usually feel when they are facing Venin in battle. 

Cam cursed under his breath. “We need to move. The crowd’s getting bigger.”

Xaden’s jaw tightened as he scanned the area. He caught Drake’s eyes, then Halden’s, both men already aware of the shift. He knows Drake could feel it too, he just does not know if Halden feels that unsettling feeling.

-DRAKE-

Cam cursed under his breath. “We need to move. The crowd’s getting bigger.”

Drake’s senses were already on high alert, but Cam’s words sharpened them further.

Xaden’s jaw clenched as he scanned the area, his sharp gaze meeting Drake’s, then Halden’s. They didn’t need words to understand—this was the moment when things turned unpredictable. What should have been a simple, diplomatic outing was becoming a spectacle.

But there was something else.

A feeling.

It crept up his spine, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. It was the same sensation he felt in battle against the Venin. A cold, crawling unease, like something unnatural was brushing against his consciousness.

Impossible.

They were in Navarre. Within the wards.

Venin couldn’t be here.

Could they?

Halden, completely oblivious to the tension between Drake and Xaden, commanded the guards, “Get the girls. We’re leaving.” Then he added casually, “It’s always like this when Violet and Mira go out. Watch—next few days, Mira’s outfit will be a trend.”

Drake barely heard him. His focus was on the store where Mira and the others had gone inside.

The moment she stepped out, accompanied by Sawyer, the cheers and calls from the crowd intensified.

“Mira!”

The same teenage girl from earlier shouted, waving eagerly.

Mira turned, smiling at them, ever the composed woman that she is.

That was when it happened.

A blonde man  mid height stepped forward, reaching for her arm.

Drake didn’t think—he moved.

So did Halden.

“Hey! Don’t touch her, please,” Sawyer reprimanded, stepping between them, but it was too late.

Drake’s hand closed around Mira’s left arm, Halden’s on her right.

They yanked her back, away from the stranger and into their waiting carriage. 

Xaden was already on the move toward the store, likely going for Violet. Garrick, Bodhi, and the guards were waving at them to get into the carriages.

But for a moment, everything stilled.

Drake and Halden were still gripping Mira’s arms, but instead of working together, they were tugging her in opposite directions.

He glares at Halden, Not today Halden.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Mira groaned, exasperated.

“Let go of her and get inside the damn carriage!” Garrick snapped.

They both released her at the same time, and Mira immediately turned toward the store.

“I’m not leaving without Violet,” she said, voice firm.

Drake clenched his jaw, already anticipating this.

As soon as he saw Xaden emerging from the crowd, Violet pressed close to his side, his arm securely guiding her through the chaos.

That was enough for him. “Xaden's got her!” Informs Mira, then he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her into the carriage.

She gasped, hands instinctively gripping his shoulders, eyes blazing with irritation.

He smirked, slamming the carriage door shut behind them.

-GARRICK-

Garrick watched as Halden and Drake tugged Mira in different directions.

They had to be kidding.

“Let go of her and get inside the damn carriage!” he snapped, exasperated.

The moment Mira saw Violet safe with Xaden, her shoulders relaxed—but before she could say anything, Drake lifted her into the carriage.

Garrick let out a sharp breath. Well, that was one way to do it.

The others hurried into the second carriage, but Garrick reached for Xaden’s shoulder before he could follow. “Ours.”

Xaden nodded once, stepping up behind him.

As soon as Garrick swung open the carriage door, Mira’s sharp voice cut through the air.

“Drake, I swear, if you pick me up like that one more time—”

Drake smirked at her, clearly unfazed. “Say my name again, Vicious.”

Mira’s lips pressed together, but whatever retort she had was abandoned the second she spotted Violet climbing in with Xaden, Ridoc following close behind. She immediately pulled her younger sister onto the seat beside her, tucking her close.

The seating arrangement was tight—Drake, Mira, Violet, and Xaden, crammed together on one bench, while Garrick and Ridoc took the opposite side. Neither Drake nor Xaden seemed interested in shifting for more space, so they remained squeezed together, tension crackling between them.

Violet was the first to break the silence. “What happened?”

Ridoc snorted. “You two got recognized. That’s what happened.” He leaned back against the carriage wall, grinning. “Sucks to be an ‘It Girl’ sometimes.”

Mira sighed.

“Mira,” Violet whined, looking at her sister for reassurance.

Mira reached up and smoothed Violet’s hair. “I’ll take care of it.” Then, turning to Ridoc, her tone shifted. “You know what to do?”

Ridoc’s usual easy demeanor became sharper, more focused. He nodded. “Yep. Leave it to me, Rhi, and Sawyer.”

Garrick watched them carefully, wondering what the hell that meant.

But he didn’t have time to ask.

The moment the carriage rolled to a stop at the palace, Mira’s entire demeanor changed. Her back straightened, her expression unreadable as she stepped down. 

“Tavis.”

“Miss Mira?” Garrick started, but she didn’t even turn around.

“Gather everyone,” she said. “Meet me at the steps by the courtyard.”

There was something about the way she said it—something absolute.

It left no room for argument.

Garrick didn’t question it. He just nodded and moved.

As soon as they exited the carriage, his eyes landed on Brennan standing in the courtyard, arms crossed, brows raised. The silent What happened? was clear on his face.

Garrick mouthed, Later.

Then, turning toward the second carriage, he swung open the door, addressing the others inside. “Mira wants a word. Gather at the benches.”

As everyone shuffled out, the air around them shifted.

Whatever Mira was about to say—it wasn’t going to be small.

The group gathered at the palace steps, everyone in place except for Ridoc, Rhi, and Sawyer—who had their own mission to handle.

Mira stood front and center, her usual commanding presence settling over them.

Garrick had seen her in action before, but every time, it amazed him how effortlessly she took control of a situation.

Halden, Cam, and Alic, meanwhile, looked completely relaxed—like they already knew what was coming. As if this was just another normal occurrence for them.

Then, Mira spoke.

“What happened out there—keep it to yourselves. Do not tell my mother someone tried to grab me.”

Violet’s eyes snapped to her sister. Sharp. “Someone tried to grab you?” Garrick swears for a moment there is a static electricity that charges the air.

Mira sighed, hold up a hand to Violet. “Calm down, Vi.” then she continued “Yes, but let’s just say the crowd got bigger. The sun is shining, the weather is great—we decided that we’ll play tennis instead.”

Xaden, arms crossed, studied her carefully. “Why?” His tone was measured but curious. “Why cover this up?”

Violet immediately turned on him, eyes blazing. “You will shut your mouth and let us do the talking.”

Garrick barely contained his laugh as Xaden smirked, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay.”

My best friend is fucking whipped, Garrick thought, shaking his head.

Drake, standing slightly apart from the others, eyed Mira with a challenge. “Will it work? There were people around us and the guards.”

Mira met his gaze, a smirk playing at her lips. “Trust me. It works every time.”

Drake’s answering smile was slow, admiration in his eyes. “As you wish.”

Another prince, Garrick thought, fucking whipped.

Just then, Ridoc, Rhi, and Sawyer approached.

“The guards are handled,” Rhi reported smoothly.

Mira gave a sharp nod. “Good.” She turned back to the group. “Act normal. No one says anything.”

With that final command, they began to disperse.

Garrick, Xaden, Bodhi, and Drake lingered behind.

That was when Brennan strode toward them, arms crossed, suspicion written all over his face.

“What happened?” His tone was direct. Then, just to mess with them, he pointed at Xaden. “This one plays with Violet’s hair.”

Then, shifting his finger to Drake, he added, “And this one lifted Mira by her waist.”

Silence.

Then—

Brennan’s eyes flared.

“What?”

Chapter Text

-BRENNAN-

Brennan strode toward them, arms crossed, suspicion thick in his expression.

“What happened?” His tone was sharp, demanding.

Garrick pointed at Xaden first. “This one plays with Violet’s hair.”

Then, shifting his gaze to Drake, he added, “And this one lifted Mira by her waist.”

Silence.

Then—

His eyes flared, his blood boiling.

“What?”

He knew it. These fucking princes liked his sisters. It was obvious from the way they smirked, the way their eyes followed Mira and Violet, the interest they barely bothered to hide.

Who wouldn’t be interested, though?

His sisters were smart, beautiful, and kind.

Before he left Navarre to fight against the Venin, he had prepared himself for this—for the day boys would start circling around his sisters.

But back then, they had been younger. The thought had been distant, something he imagined dealing with when they were older.

Now?

Seeing them again, all grown up. They weren’t just smart, beautiful, and kind.

They had become formidable. Sharp. Strong.

And to him?

No man was good enough for them, his fury surged.

With no hesitation, he lunged, swinging at the two cocky bastards, but they shifted, stepping just out of reach.

“In my defense, Bren, I think it’s Sgaeyl’s mating to Tairn,” Xaden said, far too nonchalantly. “She’s affecting my senses.”

Brennan scoffed, unbelievable. “I don’t believe you. You were interested in Violet even before that.”

Xaden just shrugged. He didn’t even try to deny it.

That boiled Brennan’s blood even more.

With a growl, he surged forward, grabbing Xaden by the front of his shirt.

“Bren, this one’s getting away,” Bodhi called out.

Brennan shifted, catching the movement in his peripheral vision—Drake was trying to slip away.

Not a chance.

In a fluid motion, he grabbed Drake by the collar, pinning both of them against the stone wall.

He knew they could easily push him off if they wanted. He wasn’t stupid—these were two of the strongest fighters he knew. If they truly wanted to break free, they could.

But they didn’t.

Which only meant one thing.

They were seriously about his sisters.

Brennan narrowed his eyes.

“Let me explain, Bren.” Drake’s voice was steady, even. “Someone tried to grab Mira from the crowd. I needed to get her to safety.”

Brennan froze.

The fire in his chest didn’t cool—it shifted.

His grip tightened, not out of anger at the men in front of him, but because his focus snapped to the information just given to him.

Someone tried to grab my sister?

Brennan’s voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl.

“Who?”

“We don’t know, but we felt a Dark Wielder in the crowd.” Drake said, his tone somber, he hated the idea of Mira being anywhere near such a threat.

“I felt it too, the others did not though, he thought it was just a normal crowd,” Xaden added, his expression unreadable.

Bodhi and Garrick nodded in agreement.

Brennan released both Xaden and Drake, his mind racing. Venin in Navarre, near his sisters, someone tried to grab his Mira, Venin or not he will find out who it is.

“This is an indoor conversation now,” he muttered.

Xaden ran a hand through his hair. “The rest of the council, King Fen, and Queen Maraya are in a meeting. Let’s talk inside first. I’ll inform them afterward.”

Without another word, they moved toward the palace, heading for the sitting area in their wing.

As they strode through the halls, they spotted Violet and one of Mira’s maids carrying bouquets of white daisies.

Drake’s steps slowed, his attention immediately snapping to the flowers. A small, knowing smile curved his lips as he approached them.

“Are those for Mira?” he asked casually.

One of the maids startled, her eyes widening before she quickly looked down.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she murmured.

“From whom?” Brennan’s irritation flared. Who the hell keeps sending his sister flowers?

The maid hesitated before answering.

“I believe they’re from Viscount Archibald… Miss Mira’s ex-boyfriend.”

Brennan narrowed his eyes.

Who the fuck is Viscount Archibald?

Drake, however, went rigid. His jaw clenched so tightly Brennan thought he might crack a tooth.

“Let me give them to her,” Drake said, his voice dark, controlled—but filled with something dangerous. “They’ll be tossed anyway.”

The maids exchanged nervous glances, then quickly handed the bouquet to him.

When they reached their sitting area, Drake wasted no time. He tore open the note attached to the flowers and read aloud

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Mira,

I have a meeting with your mom. Please talk to me, or at least let me see you.

–T.A.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Drake crushed the note in his fist.

Brennan’s fury reignited. There is a reason why Mira keeps tossing these flowers.

Who the fuck is Viscount Archibald? Has he hurt Mira?

And more importantly—Why the hell is he meeting their mother?

-XADEN-

The scent of crushed Daisies lingered in the room of their sitting room, Xaden leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his mind still replaying the chaos from their stroll earlier.

Bodhi, Garrick, Drake, Brennan, Imogen, Syrena, and himself—all of them were gathered here, their expressions grim. 

“A Venin. In Navarre.” Brennan broke the silence first, his voice low, as if speaking the words too loudly would make them more real. “That’s unheard of.”

Xaden exhaled sharply. “And yet, we all felt it. Not just one. There were at least two.” His jaw clenched. “It happened right after Violet and Mira got recognized.”

He did not like the thought that Violet was near a Venin.

Drake sat forward, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “The man who tried to grab Mira—was that a normal occurrence?” His eyes burned with something Xaden thinks, Possessiveness? Concern? Maybe both.

“Looks like it,” Garrick answered, “The way they calmly covered it up? Rhi, Ridoc, and Sawyer handled the guards, but that was too coordinated. Too quick.”

Bodhi’s expression darkened. “Mira said ‘It works every time’, means it happens more than once that the cover up works every time.”

Xaden ground his teeth. “The question is ‘Do they know that there are Venin out there?’ and ‘The man who tried to grab Mira was he a venin?’ I did not see him properly to confirm.”

Silence settled in, heavy and suffocating.

Drake leaned back against the couch, his fingers tapping against his knee. “That’s not the only thing Mira’s been handling.”

Brennan raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Drake smirked, but there was something amused in his expression. “They were not suppose to go to the summer castle with us but she was able to persuade the General to let them go with us.”

Garrick let out a low whistle. “Impressive. How’d she manage that?”

Drake shrugged. “She can talk a storm into submission when she wants to.”

Xaden shared a glance with Brennan, who merely nodded in agreement.

“Well she is Mira,” Brennan muttered, pushing off the chair and pacing toward the window. “We also have a bigger problem. If there are Venin in Navarre, that means the wards aren’t holding? Or some are strong enough to be able to live within the wards? ”

The room fell into a deep silence, the implications of that statement settling over them like a storm cloud.

-KING FEN-

Fen was not a sentimental man.

He was a king, first and foremost. His decisions were made for the greater good, not for personal indulgence. Everything he had done—every move, every political maneuver, every sacrifice—was for the sake of their people, for the survival of their continent against the Venin threat.

Including the arranged marriage between Xaden and Catriona.

It was a logical match. A strong alliance between Tyrrendor and Poromiel, reinforcing their forces, strengthening their hold against their enemies. But his son—

His stubborn, defiant son—

Had stood up before him and the council two years ago and refused.

Not with anger. Not with cruelty. Just unshakable certainty.

"I will not marry a woman I do not love."

Fen had been furious. Not because Xaden rejected Catriona—he could understand that—but because Xaden was risking the alliance they so desperately needed.

And now, two years later, there was a rift between them that neither of them had bridged.

Fen had done what he thought was best.

But Xaden had done what he thought was right.

And the truth was…

Fen was starting to believe his son had been right all along.

Now, he just wanted to fix things.

He sat in the study, in the library, the old chess set arranged on the table before him. He and Xaden had once played frequently—silent battles of strategy, of wit. It had been too long.

Almost an hour had passed.

And his son had not come.

Fen exhaled, the weight of disappointment settling heavily on his chest—

When the door creaked open.

Not Xaden.

A woman stepped inside, pausing the moment she saw him.

Violet Sorrengail.

The youngest of the Sorrengails. The woman now tethered to his son through their dragons.

She was beautiful, he noted absently, with sharp intelligence in her gaze. He had no doubt that she would soon become an ally, whether she liked it or not. Fate had already decided that for her.

And if her brother Brennan was any indication, she would be a willing ally once she learned the truth about the Venin threat.

She clutched a book to her chest before offering him a polite curtsy.

“Apologies, Your Majesty. I did not know someone was here.”

Fen offered her a small smile. “It is quite alright, Miss Violet. I was leaving anyway.”

He reached for the chess pieces, prepared to put them away, but—

Violet’s gaze landed on the chessboard.

She hesitated.

“Looks like my son stood me up,” Fen murmured, almost to himself. “I asked him to play chess.”

When he glanced up, Violet was looking at him.

And her expression—Soft. Gentle.

“I can play with you, Your Highness,” Violet offered.

For a moment, Fen simply stared at her. She comforting him, her offer warms him in a way he had not felt in a long time.

Was this… what it was like to have a daughter?

He had heard of it—from friends, from advisors, from other rulers who had daughters of their own.

But he had never understood it, not until now.

Fen raised a brow at her. “You know how to play chess?”

Chess was traditionally taught to men, a game of strategy, war, and control. It was rare to find women who played, let alone ones who could play well.

Violet smiled. “I know the basics. It’s been a long time since I played, though.”

A modest answer. He wasn’t convinced.

Still, he gestured for her to sit. “Alright, then.”

Violet slid into the seat across from him, looking at the board thoughtfully.

“White goes first,” he informed her.

“Of course.”

She moved her first piece with practiced ease, and as the game progressed, Fen quickly realized—

She had undersold herself.

Violet played with a calm yet aggressive style, pushing him into King’s Gambit with ease, taking control of the board like a seasoned strategist.

Fen found himself losing.

And when she finally won, Violet leaned back with a triumphant smile.

“You lost, Your Majesty.”

Fen blinked at the board, then at her.

“You said you knew the basics. You did not tell me you were good at it.” He shook his head. “And aggressive as well.”

Violet laughed, light and carefree, and Fen found himself chuckling as well.

When was the last time he had laughed like this?

“Would you like a rematch, Your Majesty?” she teased.

Fen narrowed his eyes. “You will not win this time.”

But he did.

And then, he lost again.

And then—again.

By the end of their third match, Fen found himself genuinely enjoying the game. The conversation. The company.

Had he missed out on having a daughter?

It certainly felt that way.

After their matches, he finally noticed the book Violet was carrying. A Tyrish book.

Curious, he asked, “This is Tyrish. You can read Tyrish?”

Violet glanced at the book and nodded casually. “Well, yes, I can. I like reading books in their original language. Sometimes things get lost in translation, you know.”

She sounded annoyed, as if mistranslations personally offended her.

Fen studied her for a moment. If she could read Tyrish, could she speak it like her brother?

He tested her, switching languages. “Can you speak Tyrish?”

Violet’s smile turned mischievous. “Yes, I can. My father taught us.” She said it in perfect Tyrish, her pronunciation smooth, effortless.

Fen lifted a brow. “Did your father teach you chess as well?”

Violet shook her head, still speaking in Tyrish. “No, the late King Tauri did, Cam's grandfather. I was six when my mother was stationed here, the late King was sick bedridden but he liked playing chess, I was a very curious girl, loved learning. Sometimes when Cam was being taught, I tagged along. Then next thing I knew I was playing chess with the late King every afternoon.”

Fen stared. She played with the late king?

She had been raised in Navarrian court, learned under royalty, had studied their language, their strategies.

She was more than just a Sorrengail.

But before he could question her further, Violet stood up, smoothing her dress. “Anyway, I need to go, Your Majesty. I think I’m late to dance practice.”

“Of course.”

She moved toward the door but suddenly paused.

Then, without turning, she said, “Your Highness, choose the outpost in Athebyne rather than the other ones.”

Fen stilled. She’s giving me advice.

His gaze sharpened. “Why?”

Violet finally turned to face him, her expression serious. “To be honest, the other ones are not well kept. They’re infested with mice, and it will be expensive to renovate those, and will take time until it is fully functioning. That’s why they’re offering them to you. With Athebyne, you will spend less and will be up and full functioning in weeks rather than months.”

Fen let out a short chuckle. “Is that so?”

“Uh huh.” Violet tilted her head, her smirk returning. “But you didn’t hear it from me, Your Majesty.”

And then, her voice dropped into a mock-threatening whisper. However Fen found her cute rather than threatening.

“Tell anyone I told you about Athebyne… and I will tell them you lost to me at chess.” She held up three fingers. “Not once. But thrice.”

Then she walked out, leaving him stunned—and then—Fen laughed.

Laughed.

It had been ages since someone dared to threaten him.

She was—something else.

Chapter Text

-DRAKE-

Dance practice.

Drake didn’t understand why they needed it, but if it meant spending more time with Mira, then he was all in. Especially now.

Now that there was an ex sending her flowers. An ex who apparently couldn’t let her go.

An ex who was coming to Calldyr to meet with her mother.

His grip tightened at the thought, but he pushed it aside as he walked alongside Bodhi and Syrena, heading toward the designated room.

“They have a music and dance room?” Syrena muttered, sounding unimpressed. “Feels like a waste of space.”

“Says the woman who has a pool in their house.” Bodhi teased.

Drake barely paid attention, his mind elsewhere.

When they arrived at the door, they realized they were early. No one was inside—at least, that’s what they thought. The room was dark, the curtains drawn, but faint music played from within.

Curious, they stepped inside.

That was when they noticed the stage.

And the single mage light illuminating a lone silhouette.

A woman.

Dancing.

Drake froze.

His breath caught as he watched the way she moved, the slow, sensual roll of her hips, the effortless grace in her movements, the sheer confidence in the way she arched her body, matching the pulse of the music.

The song was one he recognized—one meant to seduce with every beat.

Drake had seen a lot of things in his life. Had witnessed dangerous beauty, breathtaking sights, things that could turn men to ruin.

But this?

This was something could ruin him entirely.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Bodhi muttered beside him.

“Uh huh,” Syrena agreed.

Drake’s jaw clenched.

The woman must have heard them, because the dancing suddenly stopped. The music cut off.

A flick of her fingers and the curtains opened, filling the room with light.

Drake sucked in a breath.

Mira Sorrengail.

Standing there, sweaty, flushed, and looking like every sinful thought he’d ever had wrapped into one woman.

She was wearing simple sweatpants and a black cropped shirt, but fuck—it might as well have been the most provocative thing he’d ever seen.

Was she blushing from exertion? Or from embarrassment?

Drake didn’t know.

All he knew was that he wanted to kill Bodhi for witnessing this.

If Mira was going to dance like that, then he wanted it all to himself.

Drake adjusted himself discreetly, trying to regain some composure.

“You guys are early,” Mira said, breathless.

“Yes, and you are freaking hot!” Syrena blurted out.

Drake nearly strangled her on the spot.

“Thanks!” Mira responded easily, not the least bit fazed.

He clenched his fists. Even Syrena? This was getting out of hand.

Then, movement from the side caught his attention.

They weren’t alone. Two men. One woman.

Mira turned toward them, offering an easy smile.

“This is Professor Devera, she teaches battle brief in Basgiath but also specializes in dance. And these two—” she gestured to the men “—are Vince and Kael, my squad mates when I was in Basgiath. They’re visiting.”

Drake kept his expression blank as he exchanged introductions. He already knew who Vince and Kael were and if they are here that means Mira will be out tonight.

The conversation flowed around him—Syrena teasing Mira, Bodhi cracking jokes, Vince and Kael chiming in effortlessly—but Drake remained silent.

His focus was entirely on her.

She stood casually, relaxed in their company, her flushed face still warm from dancing. She had a way of talking with her hands, a small habit he noticed whenever she was comfortable.

Drake’s gaze trailed over her—her delicate collarbone, the elegant line of her neck, the toned curves of her body. His eyes lingered a second too long on her abs, the way her tight crop shirt clung to her skin.

Then his mind betrayed him.

He imagined her legs wrapped around his hips, the heat of her body pressed against his. Mira—dancing for him, just for him, in the privacy of his room, where no one else could ever see her like that.

A deep, possessive hunger coiled in his chest.

She would not—could not—dance that sensually again in front of others.

Doesn't know how but he would make sure of it.

His breathing slowed, jaw tightening as he wrestled with the thought.

Then—Mira turned to him, her gaze sharp, knowing. “Pesky, You’re staring.”

Drake didn’t react. He just watched her, waiting.

Mira raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. “What do you want?”

You. I want you.

The words burned in his throat, but he didn’t say them aloud.

Before he could respond, Syrena snorted, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

“You got my cousin speechless,” she teased.

Mira’s blush deepened, her fingers twitching as she averted her gaze.

Drake smirked, pleased at her reaction. He would have teased her if not for the others watching.

Before the tension could build any further, the door opened again, and more people trickled in.

Last to arrive was Violet, wearing the same outfit as Mira, but it did not make his heart skip a beat the way Mira does. 

“Sorry, I didn’t notice the time. I was reading,” she said, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Drake barely acknowledged her arrival.

Because his eyes had already found Mira again, and she was still blushing as Devera’s voice rang clear through the room.

“Dance is all about feelings. Your body colliding with the tune. If you don’t feel the music, the chemistry, the connection, then you’ll never be able to pull off a proper dance. And considering that you all barely know each other, that makes this even harder.”

Drake barely paid attention—until Vince muttered beside him, “Your Highness, remember Mira and I are friends, just friends.”

Drake narrowed his eyes at him. “What?”

Before Vince could answer, Devera clapped her hands and gestured toward the center of the room. “To demonstrate, I have Mira and Vince here to show you what real chemistry looks like.”

A flick of Devera’s wrist, and music filled the air.

Drake stiffened as Mira and Vince moved to the center. Mira stood in front of Vince, their bodies naturally falling into position as the music started. Drake watched as Vince’s hands slid to Mira’s waist, their hips moving in sync with the rhythm. Then Vince’s face dipped close to her neck, their bodies pressing together, flowing with the music like they had done this a hundred times before.

Drake clenched his fists as their movements became more fluid, more intense. They faced each other now, bodies waving to the beat, their connection undeniable. Mira’s hand gripped Vince’s shirt, pulling him closer, their eyes locked, and the way Mira gazed at Vince, her expression alluring, intense and Vince bit his lower lip at the movement.

Drake barely registered himself stepping forward, his blood boiling, until strong hands held him back. “Fuck,” Garrick cursed under his breath, tightening his grip. “Stay put.”

“Restrain yourself,” Bodhi added, his voice tense.

Kael, watching Vince with apprehension, murmured, “Your Highness. They’re just friends.”

Drake didn’t care if Mira saw Vince as a friend. He still touched her. He still danced with her. He still had his hands on her waist. Drake could barely think past the possessive rage surging in his veins. But thankfully, the song ended, and with it, the dance.

Drake shoved past the three holding him back. He stalked straight to Mira, settling beside her and unclasping a water bottle. Without a word, he handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she accepted it with a nod, but Drake didn’t look away, his gaze locking onto Vince, who gave him an apologetic smile.

Drake didn’t return it. If he could snarl at him he will.

Devera clapped her hands. “Now, everyone, find a partner—preferably someone not from your country. Chemistry is all about learning how to move together, after all.”

“We're leaving. Enjoy dancing, guys,” Mira announced.

She walked out with Vince and Kael, disappearing through the doors.

Drake did not hesitate, if Mira wasn’t staying, he wasn’t staying.

Without so much as an excuse, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, eyes scanning the halls—looking for Mira.

-XADEN-

Xaden walked into the dance practice room with Imogen and Garrick, his mind still preoccupied with the fact that he had deliberately stood his father up. Fen had asked him to play chess, something they hadn't done in years, and for a brief moment, Xaden had considered showing up. But the timing was too suspicious—Catriona was coming to Calldyr soon, and his father would undoubtedly use their match as an opportunity to pressure him into marriage again. He wouldn't be swayed. Not when his mind was consumed by someone else entirely.

Violet Sorrengail.

He was beginning to think of nothing but her. He woke up excited because of her. When he slept, she haunted his dreams. And now, as he walked through the hallways toward the music and dance room, he found himself wondering if she would be there.

"Why do we need dance practice again?" Imogen grumbled beside him.

"Beats me. Instead of fighting against the real threat, they spend time dancing," Garrick muttered.

Xaden remained silent as they entered the room, scanning the space. Most of the legacies were already there, along with their friends. But his eyes immediately sought out the one person he wanted to see the most—only to realize she wasn’t there.

His gaze landed on Liam. He strode over. "Where is she?" Xaden asked without preamble.

Liam didn’t even need to ask who he meant. "Oh, she went to the library to read. She complained that we’re too loud."

Xaden frowned at Liam’s words. Of course, Violet would rather be buried in books than waste time on dance practice. He couldn’t blame her—he himself thought this entire exercise was pointless. But part of him was disappointed. He had been looking forward to seeing her today.

As he was thinking of an excuse to leave, Violet entered the room.

Xaden’s eyes followed Violet as she walked in, her voice casual, but the faintest hint of pink dusted her cheeks. She had likely run here at the last second, and the thought made the corner of his mouth twitch. She was wearing sweatpants and a cropped black shirt—simple, unassuming, yet somehow more distracting than anything else in the room. He tore his gaze away, glancing at Mira, who was dressed similarly, but his attention snapped back to Violet almost instantly.

“Sorry, I didn’t notice the time. I was reading,” she said to Devera, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

The professor smiled at her “It's okay Violet.”

She slid into place between Liam and Rhi, adjusting the hem of her shirt before crossing her arms. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Imogen smirked. “Not a fan of dancing, Sorrengail?”

Violet rolled her eyes. “I'm not a fan of ball.”

“Watch her sneak out on Saturday,” Cam muttered.

Xaden didn’t say anything, though he agreed. This ball was a waste of time. But as he watched Violet tuck another strand of hair behind her ear, shifting slightly on her feet, he realized there was one advantage to this dance practice—he would get to touch her.

Devera clapped her hands together, cutting off any further complaints. “Now, everyone, find a partner—preferably someone not from your country. Chemistry is all about learning how to move together, after all.” she commanded. “No standing around. Move.”

“We're leaving. Enjoy dancing, guys,” Mira announced then left with two men Xaden can't remember the names, a beat later Drake followed them out of the room.

Xaden was already stepping forward before anyone else could claim Violet. Liam barely had time to turn toward her before Xaden’s hand was already extended in silent demand.

“With me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Violet blinked up at him, surprise flickering across her face before she tilted her head. “Demanding, aren’t you?”

“You’ll get used to it.” He smirked, holding out a hand.

With a sigh, she took it. The warmth of her palm against his sent a thrill down his spine. He curled his fingers around hers, pulling her closer as the instructor moved to adjust their positions.

“Hands here,” the Devera directed, guiding Xaden’s hand to rest on Violet’s waist. He felt the slight inhale she took at the contact, and his grip tightened reflexively. Her hand settled on his shoulder, her fingers just barely pressing into him.

“Try not to step on my feet,” she murmured, tilting her chin up to look at him.

Xaden huffed a quiet laugh. “I should be telling you that, Violence.”

She narrowed her eyes but didn’t pull away. If anything, she held herself with more confidence, her fingers gripping his shoulder as the music started.

And then they danced.

At first, it was stiff—Violet overthinking, Xaden hyper-aware of her every move—but as the music flowed, she relaxed. And with her, he did too. Their steps became smoother, their movements instinctive. He led, she followed, and for the first time in a long time, Xaden felt at ease.

“Didn’t think this was your kind of thing,” he murmured as he spun her effortlessly.

She scoffed. “It’s not.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t have a response. Instead, she focused on the steps, and he took the opportunity to pull her a little closer.

It was reckless but he didn’t care.

For the first time in too long, something other than battle or strategy occupied his mind.

And her name was Violet Sorrengail.

Xaden tightened his grip on Violet’s waist as they moved to the slow rhythm of the music. Her steps were light, her body fitting against his so naturally that it was almost too easy to forget the world around them.

The second song starts, something was off. Her shoulders were tense, her movements slightly rigid and she glared at him.

“You’re grumpy today, Violence” he murmured, pulling her just a little closer.

Violet sighed, barely looking up at him. “I’m not happy with you right now.”

Xaden frowned, tilting his head. “Why? What did I do?”

“You don't know how lucky you are still have your—” A voice cut through the room. A voice Xaden recognized immediately and had no desire to hear.

“There you are, my fiancé.”

Xaden’s jaw clenched.

Catriona.

She stood at the doorway, her arms crossed, her icy gaze locked on them. No—not on them. On Violet.

The music halted. The entire room fell into silence.

Syrena immediately stepped in front of her sister, her expression a mix of frustration and exasperation. “Cat, why are you here so early?”

Catriona barely acknowledged her, brushing past her like she was nothing more than an obstacle in her path. Her eyes never left Violet.

Xaden felt Violet shift slightly, stepping away from him, and in an instant, Liam, Rhi, Cam, and Ridoc closed in around her protectively. The sight sent a sharp pang of something unfamiliar through him. Annoyance. Possessiveness.

Xaden stepped forward, placing himself between Cat and Violet, his expression cold. “I’m not your fiancé anymore. Don’t make a scene.”

Catriona let out a scoff, shaking her head. “Well, she is beautiful,I'll give you that,” she admitted, her lips curling in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “But does she know that you were already engaged before she went out with you?”

She slapped a newspaper against his chest, her manicured nails tapping against the sketch on the front page.

A detailed drawing of him and Violet. Their stroll through the city. The moment in the café when he played with her hair.

Xaden didn’t even glance at it. His voice was steel when he spoke. “Again, I’m not betrothed to you. I can be with the woman I like.”

Catriona wasn’t listening. She was already turning her attention back to Violet, stepping toward her with purpose.

Rhi moved first, standing her ground. “Who do you think you are?”

Catriona barely spared her a glance. “I am Catriona Cordella. Xaden’s fiancée.”

Xaden's blood boils by the the Cat's casual claim to on him. He was over this drama. He turns to Violet, he wants to explain, to tell her, she owns him.

Something shifted in Violet's face. The quiet, soft, warm, woman was gone. In her place was someone else entirely. Someone cold. Calculating. Dangerous. She looks very much like her mother and Mira now.

Violet’s gaze swept over Catriona from head to toe. Then she tilted her head, a slow smirk spreading across her lips.

“Should you be this desperate if you’re already engaged with him?” she mused.

Catriona stiffened, her nostrils flaring.

But Violet wasn’t finished. Her gaze flicked to Xaden for the briefest moment before she turned away from him entirely.

“You didn't even asked if I'm with him,” she said, her voice light, dismissive. “I am not, you can have him.”

Xaden felt the words like a physical blow.

Violet turned to Liam, offering her hand. “Liam, would you like to dance with me? My dance partner seems to be already taken.”

Liam didn’t hesitate. He glared at Cat before taking Violet's hand and leading her back onto the dance floor as if nothing had happened.

As if Xaden wasn’t standing there, seething, as if she hadn’t just handed him over like he was nothing.

Catriona was livid.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her jaw tightening as she glared at Violet, furious at being dismissed so effortlessly.

“I’m not done with you!” she snapped, voice sharp enough to cut through the lingering silence in the room.

Violet barely spared her a glance, as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience—an irritating mosquito buzzing in her ear. Slowly, she raised her chin. She was smaller than Cat, but in this moment, she looked taller. Unshaken. Unbothered. Unimpressed.

“But I am. I'm Violet Sorrengail and in this place,” she said, voice calm but laced with something that sent a pulse of energy through the room. “When I say it’s over, it’s over.”

A subtle crackle filled the air. Not just tension—something more. Something alive. Power hummed around her, electric, controlled but undeniable.

Xaden felt the shift, his senses attuned to it, to her.

Violet turned, her gaze landing on Professor Devera. “We’re done here,” she said smoothly. “Before this gets even more...” she looks at Cat briefly “embarrassing.”

Devera, who had been watching the entire exchange with a sharp, assessing gaze, simply nodded.

With that, Violet pivoted on her heel and strode toward the door, Liam, Cam, Rhi, Ridoc, and Sawyer falling in step behind her like an effortless formation.

Catriona’s face twisted with fury. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She had come here to make Violet insecure, to shake her. Instead, she had been dismissed like she was nothing.

She screamed in frustration.

Syrena, looking both exasperated and resigned, grabbed her arm. “Enough, Cat.” Then, before Catriona could cause any more of a spectacle, Syrena hauled her out of the room.

For a moment, there was silence.

“I’m starting to like the Silver Sorrengail,” Imogen mused, smirking.

“She is pretty amazing,” Garrick agrees.

“That was a power play Cat did not expect,” Bodhi added, shaking his head in amusement.

Alic strolled up, clapping Xaden on the shoulder with mock sympathy. “That’s your fiancée,” he said, lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Poor Tyrrendor. A scandalous woman for their future queen.”

Then he walked away, shaking his head like the entire thing was a tragedy.

“Was! She was his fiancée,” Garrick stressed.

Imogen Bodhi and Garrick continues to discuss how thankful they are that Xaden did not marry Cat but Xaden barely heard them.

His eyes were still on the door Violet had walked through.

His jaw tightened. She had handed him over. Given him away without a second thought.

That wouldn’t do.

Not at all.

-DRAKE-

Drake slowed his steps as he spotted Mira, Kael, and Vince huddled together in the sitting room, their heads close in quiet conversation. He considered joining them, curious about what had them so engrossed, but a familiar voice caught his attention.

Syrena.

He turned just in time to see her marching down the hallway, dragging Catriona by the wrist. His other cousin. The cousin who wasn’t supposed to be here yet.

Drake frowned.

Catriona was meant to arrive Friday night, just in time for the ball on Saturday. So why was she here now? And more importantly—why did Syrena look ready to murder her?

His curiosity piqued, he followed them, his long strides catching up easily.

When he entered Syrena’s room, he found her already mid-lecture, her arms crossed as she glared at Catriona, who looked entirely unrepentant.

“What were you thinking, Cat?” Syrena snapped. “That behavior was completely inappropriate! You embarrassed yourself in front of everyone.”

Catriona scoffed, arms folded. “I was simply stating the truth.”

Drake shut the door behind him, cutting off any possible escape. “What truth exactly?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Syrena turned to him with a sigh, rubbing her temples like she already had a headache. “She crashed the dance practice and confronted Violet in front of everyone, making a spectacle of herself.”

Drake’s brows lifted. “What?”

Catriona merely shrugged. “Xaden is my fiancé—”

“No, he’s not,” Syrena and Drake said at the same time.

Drake exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. “You have to let go of him, Cat. It didn’t work out, and you’re supposed to be engaged to Trager. Do you know how ridiculous you looked today?”

Catriona’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Syrena shook her head. “You just embarrassed yourself in front of half the legacies, and for what? Xaden has moved on. Violet is a good person. She doesn’t deserve whatever game you’re trying to play.”

Catriona’s jaw clenched. “She dismissed me like I was nothing.”

Syrena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That’s because you were acting like a child.”

Catriona’s eyes flashed, but Drake stepped in before she could argue. “Enough. You’re staying in your room until you get your head straight. No more scenes.”

Drake studied Catriona for a moment. He could see it—the frustration, the lingering pride refusing to admit defeat.

But it was over.

And the sooner she accepted that, the better for everyone.

Chapter Text

-DRAKE-

Drake leaned against the palace wall, arms crossed, his cloak blending into the shadows. The tree near him swayed slightly in the night breeze—the same tree Mira always used to slip past the palace walls when she had business beyond them.

And he knew she had business tonight.

He’d noticed the way she, Kael, and Vince had huddled together earlier, murmuring in that conspiratorial way they always did when they were up to something.

So here he was, waiting.

When he finally saw them approaching, he pushed off the wall, moving toward them silently. Vince was close—too close—to Mira’s side. Drake clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at the casual way Vince moved beside her. He reached out and grabbed Mira’s elbow, pulling her toward him.

She gasped, her body tensing instantly. He saw the flash of movement, her fist rising, and barely caught it midair before it connected with his face.

“Sorry, Vicious, it’s just me,” he said, smirking.

Mira’s glare could have set him on fire. “Pesky, what are you doing here?”

Drake placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “I’m wounded. I thought we were a team?” He moved between her and Vince, forcing Vince to shift to the other side.

Vince shook his head with a smile, but Drake wasn’t smiling.

He still had to confront Vince about his relationship with Mira. Friends with benefits? Maybe. But there was no way to fake the kind of chemistry they had while dancing earlier. Drake had noticed it. He didn’t like it.

Mira scoffed. “We are not a team. I just let you tag along last time.”

“Why can’t I tag along again tonight?” Drake asked, tilting his head. “I think you need extra protection. Someone just tried to grab you the other day—” His grip on her arm tightened slightly. “I will protect you.”

“No,” Mira said, her voice firm. “This does not concern you, Pesky Prince. Go to bed.”

Drake didn’t let go. “If you’re going, then I’m going.”

“You really are pissing me off.” Mira tried to shake his hand off, but he held on. “Let go.”

“No.”

Kael sighed. “We can do it, Mira. Anyway, it would be dangerous if you go with us and someone recognizes you—or him.”

“Yes,” Vince chimed in. “As I said earlier, we can do it. We’ll just go with Plan B.”

Mira exhaled, clearly unhappy. “Alright. You two do it, tell me everything tomorrow, and don’t get caught. I need to take this pesky prince to bed.”

Drake’s thoughts immediately derailed.

His mind supplied images—Mira, tangled in his sheets, golden-brown hair messy, her soft lips parted as she—

He swallowed hard. “You will take me to bed?” he asked, his voice dropping, a slow smirk forming.

Mira’s face turned red. “Not like that, you pervert prince!”

Drake chuckled, finally letting go of her arm but leaning in just slightly, enough that his breath brushed her ear. “Shame. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Mira huffed and stormed ahead. Drake followed, still grinning.

Pesky Prince or not, he wasn’t leaving her side tonight.

Drake followed Mira into the palace, his steps silent against the marble floors.

"Just go to your room," she muttered, exasperated.

He scoffed. "So you can slip away and follow Vince and Kael? Not happening. Where you go, I go."

"I'm going to bed," she said, throwing him a pointed look.

"Sure." He smirked. "I'll stay outside your door then."

Mira glared at him before abruptly changing course, turning toward the library instead. Drake sighed but followed, watching as she weaved through the bookshelves, then into the study. He knew exactly what she was doing. When she climbed out the window and perched herself on the roof, he shook his head with a chuckle before joining her.

The night was cool, the city lights twinkling below them, the moon casting a silver glow on her face. She sat with her knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them.

Drake had questions.

A lot of questions.

Why was she caged in this palace? Did Viscount Archibald hurt her? Why did they break up? Was Vince just a friend—or something more? And if he kissed her right now, would she kiss him back?

He exhaled sharply, forcing the thoughts aside. He couldn’t ask those questions.

Instead, he settled on, "So… what were you planning on doing tonight with Vince and Kael?"

Mira turned her head slightly, considering him, then sighed. "There's a man who stole bread and butter. They're going to cut off his fingers tomorrow."

Drake cursed under his breath. "How cruel."

Mira smiled at his reaction, a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. "They won’t find him tomorrow. By the time they look, he'll be far from here."

Drake studied her, admiration curling in his chest. "How did you find out about him?"

"I'm not going to tell you the details of how I run my operation," she said smoothly.

"Why not? I’m on your team."

"You’re not." She turned back to the moon, her expression unreadable. "You’ll leave this place in a few months. But I won’t…"

There was something in her voice, something heavy. He wanted to press, but then she smirked and said, "You know, I like you more when you're speechless."

Drake felt heat creep up his neck, but he smirked. "Well, you know what to do to make me speechless."

Mira flushed, her gaze locking onto his. For a brief moment, she swallowed, her eyes flicking down—to his lips, then to his Adam’s apple—before she quickly averted her gaze.

Drake clenched his fists against his thighs. He wanted to touch her, to close the distance, but she shifted before he could.

"Speaking of dance," she said, breaking the tension, "what’s up with your cousin?"

Drake sighed. "I apologize for her. She refuses to let go of the idea of wearing the crown of Tyrrendor."

Mira scoffed. "She wants to be a princess?" Her tone was laced with disbelief, like the idea personally offended her.

Drake tilted his head. "You don’t?" He knew a lot of women who would do just anything to be one, including his cousin.

"And be married to someone I don’t love? No, thank you," she said without hesitation.

Something twisted in his chest. What if you loved a prince? Will you choose a prince to love? he wanted to ask, but it can not, she spoke again.

"I'm not going to marry Halden, if that's what you're about to ask," she added, her voice steady, like she was used to repeating it. "We’re just best friends."

Drake said nothing. All his life he does not want anything, being the prince of Poromiel his life has one goal, to win the war against the Venin, save his people from them. 

Tonight, he wanted to be the one she chose.

-XADEN-

Xaden slid on his sleep pants as he prepared for the night ahead. A knock sounded at the door.

Garrick. It must be Garrick.

He strode to the door and pulled it open—only to be met with an unexpected sight.

Catriona.

Wearing nothing but a sheer Deverelli silk robe.

Before he could react, she pushed past him, stepping into his room with an air of practiced confidence. Her fingers trailed up his chest, her touch unwelcome, before resting against his collarbone. She rose onto her toes, leaning in, lips parting—

Xaden turned his head away, stepping back.

"Cat, what are you doing here?" His voice was sharp, his patience wearing thin.

She pouted, eyes dark with determination. "Xaden, I know you still want me. Make me your queen."

She moved closer again, but this time, he caught her wrists, holding her at arm’s length.

"Cat, I told you no. Don’t do this to yourself." His voice was firm but not unkind.

She scoffed. "So you really like her?"

Xaden met her gaze without hesitation. "Yes. I do."

Catriona’s expression twisted, frustration flickering across her face. "You can still have her as a consort—just make me your queen."

Xaden sighed, releasing her hands. "I am not going to marry you, It is not just because I don't love you, we are wrong for each other," He shook his head. "I bet you wouldn’t even like me if I wasn’t the prince of Tyrrendor."

"As if she’s any different!" Catriona snapped.

Xaden’s jaw tightened. "Yes, she is different."

His tone left no room for argument.

"Now leave."

With a firm shove, he guided her toward the door and shut it behind her without another word.

For a moment, he exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair.

Violet.

She was nothing like Catriona.

She wasn’t after power, though she deserved it. The way she carried herself, the way she spoke—regal without trying. A queen without a crown.

She was kind. Even to the palace maids, the guards. She knew them by name, treated them as equals. 

And yet, she had captured his attention so completely.

If he weren’t a prince, he knew Violet would still see him for who he was. That thought alone was more precious than any crown.

But damn it, he hadn’t even won her heart yet.

You can have him.

The words she had thrown at Catriona earlier replayed in his head, stinging more than he cared to admit.

Xaden knew why she had said it—knew that Violet didn’t belong to anyone, that she wouldn’t fight for something that wasn’t hers to begin with.

But still.

She could have any man she wanted. They would line up for her.

And Xaden needed to make sure she chose him.

Xaden stepped out of his room, frustration still simmering beneath his skin as he walked down the dimly lit hallway. The air was cool, but it did nothing to temper the heat of his thoughts. He needed to clear his head.

Then he saw her.

Violet.

She was walking out of Liam’s room with Rhi, Sawyer, and Ridoc, laughing softly about something. The sound made his chest tighten. His eyes locked onto her, drawn to the way her silver hair glowed under the lantern light, how she stood slightly apart from the others, always watchful, always guarded.

He called her name before he could stop himself.

“Violence.”

Her head snapped toward him, her laughter fading.

“Can I talk to you?” Xaden asked, taking a step closer.

She didn’t move. Didn’t smile.

“I’m going to bed, Your Highness.”

The words hit him harder than they should have. Your Highness.

She was drawing a line. He hated it.

“How about tomorrow?” he pressed. “Can we take a walk? Let me explain, please.”

Violet frowned. “You don’t have to explain anything, Your Highness.”

Again. Your Highness.

Rhi cleared her throat. “Good night, Liam. Your Highness.” She gave Xaden a look he couldn’t quite decipher before linking arms with Violet and pulling her away.

The others followed, leaving Xaden standing alone in the hall.

A moment later, Liam approached, arms crossed.

“We saw Catriona leaving your room,” he said.

Fuck.

Xaden ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t—”

Liam cut him off, his expression hard. “Did you sleep with her again?”

“No,” Xaden bit out.

Liam studied him for a beat before nodding, his shoulders relaxing. “Good. Because Violet is amazing, and if you weren’t interested in her, I would have been.”

Xaden’s head snapped up.

“I am.” His voice was sharp, leaving no room for doubt. “I do.”

Liam smirked. “Yeah, I know, brother.” He clapped a hand on Xaden’s shoulder. “That’s why I told them the truth—you ended things with Cat a long time ago.”

Xaden exhaled slowly. “Thank you.”

Liam gave him one last knowing look before heading back to his room.

Xaden turned toward his own door, his mind still restless, when Garrick suddenly appeared, looking between him and the now-empty hallway.

“What just happened?” Garrick asked, raising an eyebrow.

-VIOLET-

Violet stared at the ceiling, wide awake.

The palace was silent at this hour, save for the distant hoot of an owl and the occasional rustle of leaves outside her window. She should be sleeping, but her mind wouldn’t quiet.

Since Tairn and Sgaeyl left them on that hill. Left her and Xaden alone.

When they got back, something had shifted.

It was a tug—a pull in her chest that she felt whenever Xaden was near. No matter where she went, he was always there. And worse, her own feet seemed to betray her. More than once, she’d caught herself drifting toward the visitor’s wing, only stopping when she realized where she was heading.

One time, Liam had spotted her lingering too close, and she’d hastily muttered something about wanting to see him instead. He’d given her a knowing look, but thankfully, he hadn’t called her out on it.

This… attraction—it wasn’t new.

The first time she saw Xaden, back in the bookstore, she had felt it. But she had ignored it. Pushed it down. Convinced herself it was nothing.

But after that night on the hill? After she slept on his arms, his body warming her, it had become impossible to ignore.

Now, whenever she entered a room, her eyes instinctively sought him out. She noticed things she hadn’t let herself notice before—like the way he smelled. Mint and leather.

Violet groaned and buried her face in her pillow. Why did she have to tell him he smelled good?

She’d blushed when she said it, too. Gods, it was embarrassing.

At least Mira had managed to convince their mother to let them go to the summer castle. She had been thrilled at the thought of being there.

Because he would be there.

She should have known.

Xaden Riorson wasn’t just some man. He was the prince of Tyrrendor. A powerful, dangerous man. A ridiculously good-looking one.

Of course he already had a woman. Or—he had one.

Catriona.

Royalty of Poromiel. His former fiancée.

Her outburst in the dance practice had taken Violet by surprise. It had been so… desperate. Messy. And for a moment, Violet had almost wielded—almost let the storm inside her lash out and reveal her signet.

Catriona thought she could unmoor her. Thought she could rattle her.

But Violet had been raised by Lilith Sorrengail.

She had spent half her life in a palace, surrounded by power plays and manipulation.

She knew exactly how to hold her ground.

So she had lied.

Told Catriona she could have Xaden.

And then, as if fate wanted to mock her, Violet had turned a corner and seen her.

Catriona, walking out of Xaden’s room in nothing but a sheer robe.

She hadn’t noticed Violet standing there, but it had taken everything in Violet not to strike her down with lightning right then and there.

And then Xaden had tried to talk to her.

Tried to explain.

But she had been too furious to listen.

Violet groaned again as the first rays of sunlight crept into her room. There was no use in lying here, stewing over it.

She pushed herself up, got out of bed, and prepared a bath.

She didn’t want to be caught up in Catriona’s drama but she refuse to hide.

As she dipped her body into the warm bath she closed her eyes something inside her longs to claim Xaden. 

Chapter Text

-VIOLET-

Violet stood in the hallway, waiting for Rhiannon, Ridoc, Cam, Sawyer, and Liam. They had all agreed to head to brunch together, knowing that nobles from different provinces were beginning to arrive, making the palace even busier than before.

When they finally joined her, they made their way toward the dining hall.

She barely registered the polite greetings from nobles along the way, offering a practiced smile and a nod as they passed.

Her mind was elsewhere, taking note of the noblemen who will yet again ask for a dance at the ball. 

And then, the moment they stepped inside, she felt it.

That pull. 

Her breath hitched then she saw him.

Xaden was standing behind her usual seat, his large hands gripping the back of the chair like he had every right to be there. His gaze was already on her, watching, waiting.

And across the room, on her peripheral—Catriona seething. She felt it again the sudden urge to claim him, Violet has to push down the feeling and reinforced her shields. Was it Tairn's urge to claim or hers?

“Oh, here we go,” Liam muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

Violet kept her expression neutral as she walked toward Xaden, trying her best to ignore the weight of his stare.

She would not let this turn into something bigger than it needed to be.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Xaden cut her off before she could say another word. “Sure, Just to make it clear, I did not sleep with her, I threw her out of my room last night,” he said, voice smooth and steady. 

His response disarmed her for a second. He did not sleep with her?

Her eyes flicked to him instinctively.

He was smirking.

Then, without hesitation, he pulled out her chair for her. “Sit Violence, Let's eat breakfast.”

Violet sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she sat down, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened.

And then—of course—Xaden sat in the chair next to her.

Their arms brushed, and she felt it immediately—that rush of heat, the spark that always came when he was too close.

Her entire body went rigid for half a second.

Damn him.

Across the table, Mira had the audacity to wiggle her eyebrows at her knowingly. Xaden chose you.

Violet shot her a warning glare. 

Mira just grinned.

Drake took the seat next to Mira, while Syrena sat at another table with Catriona. She could feel Catriona's glare but she ignored it.

The table was already filled with platters of fruit, stacks of pancakes, crispy bacon, and fresh bread. Violet reached for the bowl of berries—only for Xaden to beat her to it, scooping some onto her plate before she could even protest.

She frowned. “I can do it myself.”

“I know,” he said. But he didn’t stop.

Her fingers twitched.

Fine. If he wanted to play this game—

She snatched the yogurt before he could and spooned some onto her plate, pointedly ignoring the way he smirked beside her.

The conversation at the table shifted toward the upcoming ball, small talk about which noble families had arrived, who would be attending, and what political maneuvers were likely to unfold.

Violet tried to focus.

Tried to ignore the way Xaden’s presence felt like a storm cloud pressing too close.

A group of nobles approached, greeting them all politely. 

And then—Xaden’s hand landed on the back of her chair.

Violet’s heart stumbled.

His fingers rested there—casual, effortless, like he had done it a thousand times before.

And then, after a while, he did something worse.

He reached out and played with her hair.

The soft tug of his fingers sent shivers down her spine.

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered wildly, and she cursed them for it.

-KING FEN-

The summit meeting chamber buzzed with quiet murmurs as maps and documents were exchanged between advisors. King Tauri sat at the head of the table, his expression composed, but Fen had learned to read the tightness around his mouth. He wasn’t pleased. Queen Maraya, ever poised, remained silent, watching the discussion unfold like a chessboard.

Fen exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against the polished wood of the table. Violet Sorrengail had been right.

After their chess match yesterday, he had taken her advise seriously. He sent his spies to investigate the outposts King Tauri was offering in exchange for weapons. As expected, most were in dismal condition—poorly maintained, barely defensible, and strategically worthless.

Except one. Athebyne.

It was the most valuable location, a fortified outpost with strong defenses, positioned perfectly for trade and war alike. King Tauri's men had conveniently downplayed its importance, but Fen was no fool.

What he didn’t know, however, was why Violet had helped him.

He didn’t think she had a hidden agenda. She hadn’t known he would be in the library that afternoon. And yet, she had steered him toward the truth without asking for anything in return. She even avoided his gaze in public, acting as though their quiet chess matches had never happened.

Was she genuinely kind? Did she care about fairness in the negotiations?

Fen’s grip on his armrest tightened slightly. What if he asked for another match? Should he commission a chessboard for her as a thank you? When will they talk about their dragon's arrangement again, when she visits Tyrrendor, he should—

A soft cough interrupted his thoughts.

"Your Highness," Suri, his closest advisor, murmured beside him. "They are waiting for your decision."

Fen straightened, scanning the expectant faces around the table. Then, without hesitation, he said, "I choose the outpost in Athebyne."

The reaction was immediate.

King Tauri’s dismay flickered across his face, gone in a heartbeat but not quick enough for Fen to miss. He had not expected Fen to make the correct choice.

Thank you, Violet.

The meeting wrapped up shortly after, and as Fen stepped onto the palace patio, the tension of negotiations eased. Below, the courtyard bustled with nobles son and daughters arriving for the upcoming ball. Some legacies lounged on the steps, chatting lazily, but his gaze landed on a familiar figure.

Violet sat reading with Liam and the others, the golden light catching in her silver hair. She looked utterly absorbed in her book, unaware—or perhaps ignoring—the watchful glances of the nobility around her.

Fen allowed himself a rare smirk. He had bested King Tauri today, but it was Violet who had given him the strategy to do so.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted by a sudden commotion.

A shrill voice cut through the courtyard.

Catriona.

Fen barely held back a sigh. He couldn’t believe when he heard the scene she had made during their dance practice. And now, she was doing it again.

Catriona stalked toward Violet like a woman scorned, her fury barely restrained. Fen leaned back against the stone railing of the patio, watching with growing curiosity. What had Violet done to make Catriona lose her composure so completely?

Catriona had always been poised, elegant—even calculating—when she was engaged to Xaden. But now, she was practically unraveling. Was she always this uncultured?

"Sorrengail!" Catriona shrieked.

Violet, who had been peacefully reading, looked up with an expression so calm, so regal, that it only seemed to infuriate Catriona further.

Liam was on his feet instantly, moving to intercept. "Catriona, don’t—"

"What makes you better than me, huh?" Catriona spat, her voice shrill.

Silence fell across the courtyard and the patio. Leaders, Nobles, legacies, maids and guards all turned to watch the unfolding spectacle.

Violet merely regarded Catriona with a cold, assessing gaze—the very same one Lilith Sorrengail was known for. Unbothered. Unshaken.

"What did you do to that he is completely enchanted by you?" Catriona demanded.

Fen’s brows lifted slightly. He? My Xaden? Is he the root of this tantrum.

Violet sighed, snapping her book shut before rising smoothly to her feet. "You know, I'm reading a really good chapter,"

The difference between them was stark—Violet, composed and in control, while Catriona stood there shaking with anger, disheveled from her own rage.

"What’s your name again?." Violet asked coolly.

Catriona’s face turned red. "You know who I am!"

"Ahh… Cat, was it?" Violet mused, feigning thoughtfulness. Then, with a slight smirk, she added, "What? Did the sheer robe didn't work? You’re making a scene again, you think this will make him like you? It’s very… unqueenly. You’re embarrassing yourself, again. If that was your goal, you’re doing an excellent job."

Fen had to bite back a smirk.

"You bitch!" Catriona screeched, raising a hand to slap Violet.

Liam caught her wrist before the blow could land, his expression thunderous.

"I'm sorry I can't relate to whatever it is you are doing, unlike you I don't chase men." Violet said, her tone mild but cutting.

"That is my crown!" Catriona yelled. 

Fen frowned slightly, realization dawning. So that’s what this is about the crown? Catriona wants to have the crown not Xaden. Does my son like Violet?

Before he could ponder the thought further, a rush of wind and the thud of talons against grass drew his attention.

A dragon had landed in the courtyard. One of Violet’s dragons, Andarna snarling at Catriona, Catriona stepped back.

Violet turned toward her deep purple-scaled dragon, murmuring something under her breath as she placed a calming hand on Andarna’s snout.

From the shadows of a nearby tree, another voice joined in—Mira Sorrengail.

"Andarna, sweetheart, you don't eat cat food," she drawled, smirking as she let her gaze sweep over Catriona from head to toe, unimpressed.

Fen chuckled under his breath. The Sorrengails certainly knew how to put people in their place.

Without another word, Violet swung onto Andarna’s back, and with a powerful leap, the dragon took off, soaring into the sky.

"Lilith Sorrengail," Suri murmured beside him, nodding toward the patio.

Fen turned just in time to see Violet’s mother stepping forward, her sharp gaze locking onto Viscount Tecarus, Catriona’s father.

The man swallowed hard.

Lilith did not raise her voice. She didn’t have to. Her cold, clipped tone carried across the courtyard, laced with an unmistakable warning.

"I expect your daughter to issue a public apology to my daughter."

Viscount Tecarus bristled. "Catriona is royalty—"

Queen Maraya, who had been silent until now, cut in smoothly, "Your daughter did not act like royalty."

Lilith tilted her head slightly, eyes gleaming like a predator sizing up prey. "Or else she might lose a limb or two, one for each of my daughter's dragon,"

Fen stiffened slightly, Lilith reminding everyone that Violet might not be a royalty but two dragons chose her. He also recognize the tone in her words instantly.

That’s exactly the tone Violet used to me after our chess match.

He had found it amusing coming from Violet. But from Lilith?

No. Lilith was dead serious.

The viscount paled. Lilith didn’t wait for further discussion. In true Sorrengail fashion, she turned on her heel and left without another word, her presence lingering like a storm cloud.

Fen exhaled slowly.

His gaze drifted skyward, where a deep purple dragon still circled above.

He had many questions. About Xaden and Violet.

But one thing was clear—Violet Sorrengail had just won another match.

And this time, she hadn’t even needed a chessboard.

Fen sat back, his fingers steepled as he replayed the scene in his mind. Catriona’s tantrum. Her complete lack of composure. The desperate shrillness in her voice.

His blood ran cold.

I chose her?

He had once thought Catriona would make a fine queen—poised, politically savvy, and with the right connections. But after today? No. This was unacceptable.

His gaze drifted to his son.

Xaden was still watching the sky, his expression unreadable, but Fen had ruled too long not to recognize the look in his son’s eyes. That wasn't mere interest—it was longing.

He likes Violet but does she like him?

Before he could fully dissect the thought, a voice interrupted him.

"Your Highness," Colonel Aetos said smoothly, standing beside him. "I believe Catriona was mistaken. Violet does not like your son."

Fen turned his head sharply, frowning. How dare he?

Xaden was handsome, powerful, and more than worthy of any woman’s affection. Who wouldn’t like my son? Unless Violet is already spoken for?

Aetos continued, oblivious to Fen’s simmering irritation. "She is in love with my son, Dain. They have been friends since they were five. Dain intends to propose after he graduates. I hope that does not create any… misunderstanding."

Fen’s frown deepened. Dain Aetos?

Before he could respond, another voice cut in.

Queen Tauri coughed lightly, her voice laced with amusement. "Apologies, Colonel, but nothing is set in stone." She smiled, but there was an unmistakable sharpness behind it. "Violet may not be yours to claim so easily. She has grown close to my son, Cam. They spend more time together than she does with Dain now. If Violet really likes Dain shouldn't they be together now? Mira and Violet are like my daughters already, it only make sense that they join our family."

Fen’s brows lifted slightly. Well fuck them I would like Violet to be my daughter-in-law as well. Queen Tauri is right nothing is set in stone yet. 

Both Aetos and Queen Tauri had already started moving their pieces across the board.

He exhaled slowly, considering his own position. Then his gaze flickered back to Xaden.

Below them, Violet and Andarna had landed, the dragon's deep purple scales gleaming in the light.

Xaden was already moving.

With quick, determined steps, he reached Violet, catching her wrist in a firm grip before leading her toward an alcove hidden in the shadows.

They spoke in hushed tones, close—too close.

Fen's fingers tapped against his knee as realization settled in.

If Xaden wanted Violet—if she could be his future queen—then it was time Fen moved his own chess pieces.

Like the Colonel. Like Queen Tauri.

He would not sit idly by.

-XADEN-

Xaden strode through the halls with Bodhi, Garrick, Imogen, and Brennan, their conversation cutting off as they stepped toward the courtyard and caught sight of the spectacle unfolding before them.

Catriona.

Again.

He should have expected it. After last night’s rejection and his silent claim on Violet during brunch, he knew she would retaliate, but he didn’t think she’d be foolish enough to do it publicly. And yet, there she was, standing in front of Violet, screaming like a child throwing a tantrum.

Violet, in contrast, was calm. Collected. Untouched by Catriona’s venom.

Couldn’t Cat see the stark contrast between them? How ridiculous she looked compared to Violet’s effortless composure?

Xaden’s gaze flickered toward the patio, where Queen Maraya, King Fen, King Tauri, Queen Tauri, and General Sorrengail were all watching, their expressions unreadable.

“I’ll try to find Syrena to reign in Cat before she completely humiliates herself,” Bodhi muttered.

Imogen smirked. “I’m staying. Watching Cat embarrass herself is like a gift. I swear it’s my birthday.”

Xaden barely acknowledged them, his attention snapping back to the courtyard when Catriona suddenly raised her hand—

To slap Violet.

He and Brennan moved at the same time, stepping forward to intercept—

But then Mira appeared beside them, arms crossed, her expression mirroring Violet’s icy calm.

“Don’t,” Mira said, her voice smooth but laced with steel. “My sister is not a damsel. She can handle that nuisance.”

Xaden hesitated as Liam already blocks Cat's wrist. 

"unlike you I don't chase men." Violet said. Of course she doesn't she attracts men. Remembering the noblemen who stops and greets her during brunch, putting his arm on the back of her chair was not enough, Xaden had to glare at some of them. 

A shadow passed overhead. A rush of wind.

Andarna landed in the courtyard, her deep-purple scales glinting under the sun, her venomous tail coiling around Violet in a silent, protective gesture. The young dragon was pissed, snarling at Catriona with barely restrained fury.

Fuck.

Garrick exhaled sharply. “She’s going to torch her.”

They all knew Andarna wouldn’t hesitate to breathe fire—or worse, eat Cat whole.

But before anything could escalate, Violet moved. She stepped past Catriona as if she was nothing more than a breeze in the wind, reaching up to stroke Andarna’s snout, her touch instantly calming the dragon. Catriona does not deserve Violet's kindness. 

"Andarna, sweetheart," Mira murmured on a nearby tree, her voice soft but firm. “You don’t eat cat food.”

Garrick snorted. “Exactly.”

Imogen lost it. She doubled over, laughing. “I love the Sorrengails!”

Xaden smirked despite himself, watching as Violet mounted Andarna’s back with ease, her silver braid trailing behind her as the dragon lifted into the air. She was gone in seconds, leaving nothing but dust and a stunned Catriona behind.

Finally, Syrena appeared, hauling her sister away—again.

Xaden didn’t bother sparing Catriona another glance.

Instead, he walked into the courtyard, tilting his head back to watch Andarna fly in circles above the palace. He would wait.

Because unlike Catriona, Violet was a woman worth pursuing. And he had every intention of making her his.

-MIRA-

Mira strode down the hallway toward Violet’s room, sighing when she reached the door and found it locked. Typical.

After her little sister was channeled their mother’s Lilith Sorrengail ruthlessness to face Catriona at the courtyard she needs a breather. Violet had shut herself in her room, and Mira knew exactly why to avoid dealing with what was really bothering her.

And that something was Xaden Riorson.

Mira knocked. “Violet?”

No answer.

Mira knocked again, harder this time. “Vi, open up.”

Still nothing.

Mira rolled her eyes flicks her wrist to slightly alter the wards she put on her door and pushed the door open, stepping inside—

And immediately stopping short.

Because in true Violet form, when something was bothering her, her room was an absolute disaster.

Books were scattered everywhere—piles and piles of them stacked haphazardly across the floor, covering her desk, thrown across the bed. Her shelves, usually neat and orderly, were bare. The only thing that wasn’t buried in books was the target across the room.

Violet stood in the middle of the chaos, still in her nightgown, methodically throwing daggers at the bullseye—

Or rather, at the newspaper tacked to the target.

Mira squinted.

It was a rough sketch of Xaden’s face.

A slow smirk spread across her lips. “Wow,” Mira drawled, crossing her arms. “You must really like him. Your room looks like a war zone.”

Violet froze, mid-throw, her shoulders stiffening.

“I don’t,” she said, but the way she clenched her jaw made it very clear that she was lying.

Mira arched a brow and gestured around them. “Vi, come on. I can see it. Look at this mess.”

Violet turned to glare at her, tossing a dagger onto the desk with a sharp thunk. Then, with an exasperated sigh, she ran a hand down her face.

“Oh, I don’t know, Mira,” she muttered, her voice frustrated but laced with something deeper. Something vulnerable. “It’s… complicated. I think I need to talk to professor Kaori.”

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Two days.

It had been two agonizing days since he had last seen Violet.

She had ignored him for the rest of the day after the courtyard incident—after he had grabbed her, pulled her into the nearest alcove, and apologized to her.

After that, not a single glance. not a single word.

And now, nothing. She has not shown up in any of their activities. 

He hadn’t even smelled her.

The lack of her presence, of her scent—lavender and vanilla—had his head pounding, his body on edge like he was waiting for an attack that never came.

Catriona had finally stopped bothering both of them. She had been put firmly in her place, forbidden from going near Violet unless it was to apologize.

And that was all thanks to General Lilith Sorrengail.

Xaden had heard that the General had demanded a public apology from Catriona—because no one disrespected her daughter and got away with it.

His respect for Lilith—though previously nonexistent—had grudgingly risen for that.

Still, that didn’t solve his real problem.

He had tried to go to Violet’s room.

But her wards had changed.

The door wouldn’t let him in, even his shadows can go in the creaks. Whoever warded her room was pretty strong.

Neither would the window. Or the balcony.

He knew because he had tried climbing.

Garrick had found him hanging halfway up the palace wall and had nearly laughed himself off the ledge.

Now, Xaden sat in his room, sprawled in his chair, rubbing his temples as his headache throbbed. Garrick sat across from him, looking entirely too entertained by his suffering.

“Just go find her,” Garrick said. “This is pathetic.”

Xaden glared at him. “You think I haven't been looking!”

A knock sounded at the door before Bodhi stepped inside.

“Xaden, your father was asking for you again,” Bodhi said, crossing his arms. “He said it’s important.”

Xaden exhaled sharply, brushing him off. “He’s been asking to meet every damn day. I’m not interested.”

Bodhi sighed. “You should be.”

Xaden ignored him.

After a while, Liam entered, shaking his head like Xaden was a lost cause.

“You’re an idiot,” Liam announced pointing at him.

Xaden narrowed his eyes. “You’re still alive, so I’d rethink calling me that.”

Liam ignored the threat entirely.

“Do you know why your father has been asking for you?” Liam continued, crossing his arms. “Because he’s been spending time with Violet.”

Xaden’s entire body snapped to attention. “What?” he demanded.

Liam smirked. “Yeah, they are like friends now or something. Violet picked out his attire for the ball. Then yesterday, they went to the children’s infirmary together. And right now? They’re playing chess in the study.”

Xaden froze.

His father. friends with Violet.

Spending time with Violet.

He hadn’t even seen her in two days, and his father had been sitting across from her, playing godsdamned chess?

Bodhi let out a low whistle. “Told you don't ignore him, first Liam then you father.”

Before he could finish, Garrick smacked him in the shoulder.

“You idiot. Go now before you miss her again.”

Xaden was already moving.

He stormed out of the room, heading straight for the study.

He wasn’t going to miss another second.

Two days ago...

-KING FEN-

Fen adjusted the collar of his tunic, staring at the racks of fine clothes before him.

The palace attendants had brought out a variety of options for the upcoming ball, but honestly? He had no idea what was in fashion these days.

If he still had a daughter, perhaps she would’ve helped him.

But he didn’t.

So he would ask Violet Sorrengail.

Not only because she had a keen sense of practicality—having spent her life among both nobles and warriors—but also because it gave him an excuse to speak with her.

He reeled in the way his son acted since arriving Calldyr, his son had always been composed, always strategic in everything he did.

Except when it came to her.

Around Violet, Xaden’s control wavered.

The way he looked at her, the way he reacted to her—

It was undeniable.

Xaden liked her.

Fen had once considered proposing a marriage arrangement between them, but he had quickly dismissed the idea. Violet was not like Catriona or the other noblewomen who sought the crown. If he forced a political engagement, she would only resent him for it.

No, Xaden needed to earn Violet’s heart.

And Fen?

Well, he would help him court her.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in,” Fen called, turning just as the door opened.

Violet stepped inside, her expression calm but guarded.

“Your Majesty, you asked for me?” she said politely.

Fen smiled. “I did.” He gestured to the tea set on the table. “Would you join me for some tea?”

Violet hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. She took a seat across from him, her back straight, her posture composed.

“Can I call you Violet?” he asked.

She nodded again. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

Fen exhaled, setting his teacup down. “I’d like to apologize, Violet. For the way Catriona acted.” He met her gaze directly. “You should know—Xaden does not want her. I was the one who made a deal with the Viscount, but Xaden ended that arrangement years ago.”

Violet sipped her tea, her expression unreadable. “Liam already explained, Your Majesty,” she said. “I understand.”

Fen nodded, pleased by her straightforwardness. “Good. Now that’s out of the way, I need your help with something.”

Violet raised an eyebrow, clearly curious.

“I don’t have a daughter to tell me what’s fashionable these days,” Fen admitted with a wry smile. “And by the way—thank you for your suggestion about Athebyne. I had my men scout the outpost, and you were right. It’s the best choice.”

Violet nodded, accepting his gratitude without fuss.

“So,” Fen continued, standing up, “will you help me find the best outfit to wear for the ball?”

Violet smiled slightly as she stood. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

She moved toward the racks of clothing, inspecting the options with a critical eye.

Fen glanced toward the door.

Where in the fuck was Xaden?

His son was supposed to be here as well.

Fen turned back to the clothing racks and picked up a lime-green robe.

“What do you think of this?” he asked.

Violet’s reaction was instant. “Hideous! your majesty,” she blurted out, looking appalled.

Fen chuckled.

She looked rather cute when she was horrified.

He picked up another robe. “How about this one?”

Violet’s frown deepened. “Gods, Your Majesty, you really need help,” Her tone and posture getting comfortable with him.

My future daughter-in-law is cute when appalled, he thought.

Daughter-in-law? He imagines her and Xaden at the Tyrrendor throne, looking majestic. Yeah that what Violet is My future daughter-in-law.

Fen picked up another one, “This one? Do you like this one?”

Violet huffs “No! Your Majesty just sit down, your taste is questionable.”

Fen sat on the couch and looks at her conceding “Yes, I chose Catriona, haven't I,”

Violet looks at her eye wide as if she can't believe what Fen just said then she snorted with laughter.

Fen laughed, a deep, amused sound. 

The afternoon passed with Violet sorting through his wardrobe, vetoing one terrible choice after another.

Xaden never showed up.

That boy was truly an idiot.

As they finished, Fen glanced at Violet. “What are your plans for tomorrow? Would you like to play chess?”

“I’m busy tomorrow, Your Majesty,” she answered. “I’m going to the children’s infirmary.”

That caught his attention. “The infirmary?”

Violet nodded. “I usually go once a week to read to the children. But now that we have visitors, I only go once a month.”

Fen considered that. “Would you mind if I came with you?” he asked.

Violet blinked, clearly surprised. “You want to come?”

“I do,” Fen said simply. “It’s been a long time since I visited an infirmary, and I’d like to see the work being done there.”

Violet studied him for a moment.

Then, finally, she nodded. “All right,” she said. “You can come.”

Fen smiled.

Good.

He just wished Xaden would take this opportunity.

***

Disguised as a palace guard, Fen stood near the waiting carriage, his arms crossed as he observed Violet with growing curiosity.

Of course, he had invited Xaden to come along.

And, as always, his son was an idiot and had not shown up.

Fen would deal with that later.

As they waited, Violet’s frown deepened when she noticed the bruised and slightly swollen nose of her brute of a guard.

“Dante,” she said, worry evident in her tone, “what happened to your nose?”

Dante shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, Miss Violet. Being your guard has its cons.”

Violet scoffed. “Make sure you see a mender, not a healer,” she instructed firmly.

Fen took note of her concern.

For all her sharp tongue and unrelenting strength, Violet cared deeply for those around her.

Dante, however, seemed less concerned about his injury and more interested in something else.

Fen followed his gaze—

Straight to Rose, Violet’s maid, who turned bright red under Dante’s flirtatious grin.

Violet caught on immediately. Her expression turned deadly.

“Uh-uh, no!” She grabbed Rose by the arm, pulling her protectively to her side. “You better not hurt Rose, or I will break your nose.”

Dante chuckled. “Don’t worry, Miss Violet, I have no intention of hurting Rose, being your guard has it's pros” He winked at the blushing maid.

Fen shook his head.

Of course, Violet was violent, loyal, and fiercely protective, even to her guard and maid.

If Tyrrendor could truly earn that kind of devotion from her, it would be a blessing.

The carriage ride to the children’s infirmary took about ten minutes.

When they arrived, Fen observed how the healers greeted Violet with warmth and familiarity.

She had not been exaggerating when she said she came here often.

As Violet moved to sit among the sick children, preparing to read them a story, Fen stayed back with Rose and Dante. He watched as she interacted with the children—not with duty, not with obligation, but with genuine care.

“Why does Violet do this?” he inquired, glancing at Rose and Dante.

Rose answered softly, “Your Majesty, the children’s infirmary holds a special place in Miss Violet’s heart. She was a sickly child herself and spent much of her early years in and out of infirmaries.”

Fen frowned.

Violet Sorrengail—a sickly child?

That was not what he had expected.

“She was sick?” Fen asked, unable to hide his skepticism. She looked strong now.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Rose confirmed. “The General was very ill during her pregnancy with Miss Violet. When she was born, she was tiny, and soon after, she was diagnosed with weak bones. Her parents looked for cure for her sickness but none works, her brother Brennan even tried when he was alive but he too could not mend her.”

“What do you mean no cure? until now she is sick?” Fen asked, he has to ask Brennan  about her sickness, Brennan was another problem if to earn Violet's trust Brennan has to reveal himself to his sisters. How and when he does not know yet. He wonders how Violet will take it. 

“No cure, your majesty, She is still hurting every day, there is a bone healer that she sees every now and then,” Dante confirms, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

“That is also why she is not that trained in hand to hand combat but she has perfect accuracy, she can kill someone before they get close to her.” Dante adds proudly.

Fen stared at them, processing this revelation.

Violet—who carried herself with such confidence, such strength—had been hurting? Had lived in constant pain?

His gaze drifted back to her.

She was reading to the children now, her voice animated as she brought the story to life, making the young patients laugh.

And yet, behind that smile, there was a past filled with struggle.

What kind of strength must it have taken for her to become the woman she is today?

Fen had already thought she would be a formidable queen.

Now, he knew it with absolute certainty.

Present...

-XADEN-

Xaden strode down the halls of the palace, his irritation to himself simmering beneath the surface. For two days, His father had been insistent, yet vague, about why he wanted Xaden to meet him. He should have told him that he was spending time with Violet. He would have been there everyday.

As he neared the study, something unexpected stopped him in his tracks.

Laughter.

His father’s laughter.

That alone was enough to make Xaden pause. He could not remember the last time he had heard his father laugh so freely.

And then—a feminine voice, amused and teasing, followed his father’s laughter.

Curious, Xaden pushed the door open.

And there she was.

Violet Sorrengail, sitting across from his father at a grand chessboard, dressed in her usual preppy uniform, her brown sliver tipped hair neatly braided in a crown. They had a small plate beside her, filled with almond-covered chocolates, which she popped into her mouth between moves.

She looked completely at ease.

Xaden’s gaze shifted to the board just as Violet moved her knight.

“Checkmate,” she declared, her tone smug.

Fen sighed. “I lost again,” he muttered before reaching for the last chocolate-covered almond.

Violet’s eyes widened in horror. “Your Majesty! That is the last one!” she whined, looking personally offended.

Fen laughed—actually laughed—before tossing the chocolate into his mouth.

Xaden stared.

He had never seen his father act like this.

Something warm twisted in his chest, a mix of awe and confusion.

What kind of spell had Violet put him under?

Shaking off his thoughts, Xaden stepped forward. He placed his hand on the back of Violet’s chair, feeling the slight tension in her shoulders as she registered his presence.

“You called for me, Dad?”

Both Violet and Fen turned to look at him.

Fen exhaled as if he had been waiting for this exact moment. “Ahh, finally, you’re here.”

Xaden narrowed his eyes. His father’s voice held something knowing.

Had he planned this?

Fen casually offered his reddened wrist to Violet. “I have lost five times already, Xaden. Do you mind subbing for me?” He shook his head dramatically. “If this continues, I might lose my hand to Violet.”

Violet scoffed. “Your Majesty, you asked me to play. I was fine reading in my room. This is your fault.”

“You’re right,” Fen admitted easily, then smirked. “Do you mind playing with Xaden then? I’m done losing.”

Violet’s lips parted, ready to decline, but then she hesitated. “Actually, I have a meeting with my sister.”

Xaden leaned down slightly, his voice low as he cut in smoothly, “Are you sure you have a meeting with Mira? Or are you avoiding me, Violence?”

Her eyes snapped to his, narrowing slightly.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she said immediately.

“Yes, you were,” Xaden countered.

“I was not!”

“Then prove it.” Xaden smirked. “Play a match with me. If I win, you go on a date with me.”

Violet’s expression wavered for a moment before she huffed, arms crossed. “Fine. But if I win, you owe me more of these almond chocolates.”

Xaden almost laughed.

Even if she lost, he would buy her boxes of them.

His father looked highly amused at their exchange, shaking his head as he stood. As Xaden moved to take his seat, Fen muttered under his breath, just loud enough for him to hear: “You better win this match.”

Xaden smirked. “I will, Father.”

Xaden watched Violet with sharp focus, studying her every move. She was good—really good. Twice now, he had barely managed to save his king from her aggressive attacks.

Her brows furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted as she calculated her next move. Damn, she was beautiful. It didn’t matter if she was smirking, frowning, or glaring at him—she always was.

He leaned in, drawn in by her scent, subtle but intoxicating. How did she always smell so good?

On the side, his father muttered, as if the fate of Tyrrendor hung on this match. “Careful, Xaden. She’s aggressive.”

Xaden smirked but didn’t take his eyes off Violet. He knew that already.

Just then, the door opened, and Violet’s maid stepped inside.

“Miss Violet, Your Majesty, sorry for interrupting,” the maid said hesitantly.

Violet glanced up, her expression expectant. “What is it?”

The maid hesitated before answering, “Miss Violet, Viscount Archibald has just arrived at the palace.”

Xaden felt the shift immediately.

Violet’s entire demeanor turned ice cold. Her warmth, her teasing nature—gone.

She scoffed, muttering under her breath, “That pigheaded—” then abruptly stood from her chair.

Xaden’s reflexes kicked in. He reached out, grabbing her wrist before she could leave.

“Where are you going?” His father asked his voice held amusement.

“I’m going to destroy a Viscount, Your Majesty,” Violet declared, fire burning in her eyes.

Fen looks at violet in awe and disbelief. 

Xaden, however, wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. He tilted his head. “Are you forfeiting?”

She stilled. Her eyes flickered to the chessboard, realizing what that meant.

Xaden didn’t remind her that forfeiting meant she owed him a date. Instead, he gently rubbed his thumb over her wrist, feeling the steady but fast pulse beneath her skin.

Violet’s gaze lingered on the board for a moment longer before she sighed. “I guess I am.”

Satisfied, Xaden smirked and released her wrist. “It's a date then.”

She shot him one last look before turning and walking away.

Xaden leaned back in his chair, inhaling deeply, relishing the faint trace of her scent in the air.

His father stood then, clapping a firm hand on Xaden’s shoulder. “You’re in huge trouble, son.”

Xaden exhaled, smirking. “I know.” He glanced at his father. “Thank you, Dad. I didn’t know you were trying to get us together.”

Fen gave him a pointed look. “I like her. Don’t fuck this up. If you need my help with the date just tell me know.”

Xaden nodded, more determined than ever.

As his father walked out of the room, he turned to his aide, shaking his head with amusement.

“My daughter is about to destroy a Viscount,”

Then he laughed.

Xaden froze.

Daughter?

Did his father just call Violet his daughter?

Chapter Text

-MIRA-

Mira walked briskly toward the greenhouse, her heels clicking against the stone path. The invitation to Queen Tauri’s tea party had arrived days ago, and while declining wasn’t an option, she would have much rather been anywhere else.

The tea parties were never just about tea. They were a battlefield where noblewomen exchanged gossip like currency and today there were mothers schemed to push their sons toward her. She already knew why. Lilith had likely made it known that she was finally going to receive suitors. Her mother once again trying to meddle with her life. 

Mira exhaled sharply. Wonderful.

There were rumors about Halden and her since they were teenagers but those were just rumors, although they made a pact when they were seventeen to marry each other if they were still single by Mira's twenty-eighth birthday. Everyone was surprised when it was revealed she was with someone else, that made them hopeful.

It has been two years since her last relationship and she could not bring herself to trust men with her heart again.  At this rate she might marry Halden when she turns twenty-eighth, at least they are friends and she trust him, she does not know if she will ever love again, though. 

As she approached the entrance, she spotted a familiar figure just about to leave the greenhouse.

The pesky prince of Poromiel, Drake Cordella.

Of course he was here.

The moment he saw her, his lips curved into that ever-present infuriating grin of his.

Mira rolled her eyes and ignored him, walking past like he wasn’t suddenly everywhere she turned these days.

But Drake being the pesky Drake Cordella, of course he fell into step beside her.

“Vicious, You should’ve told me you were coming,” he said easily. “I could have walked you here with my mom.”

Queen Maraya was invited? Interesting, Queen Tauri does not like Queen Maraya they were too different she says.

Mira shot him a glare. “I can walk myself.”

He didn’t argue, didn’t even flinch at her sharp tone. Instead, he still walked beside her, matching her pace as if it was his decision to escort her.

She exhaled through her nose, resisting the urge to shove him away.

They reached the seating area where a maid waited. The greenhouse was bathed in golden light, vines draping elegantly over marble columns. The noblewomen were already gathered, sipping their tea and exchanging hushed whispers.

“Miss Mira, you are to sit with the Queen's table,” the maid informed her.

Mira nodded in thanks, but before she could step away, Drake’s fingers curled around her wrist, stopping her.

“Enjoy the tea party, Vicious.” His voice was low, teasing, but there was something else in his tone. “I'll be back when it’s over. Let’s go to the lounge together.”

Mira hated the way her skin reacted to his touch—goosebumps flaring up her arm, a heat curling at the base of her spine. It irritated her.

She yanked her wrist free. “Just go already!”

Drake smirked, unbothered, and waved lazily toward his mother before finally striding away.

When Mira turned back toward the table, she was met with curious stares.

Queen Tauri, Queen Maraya, and three Ladies who are wives of the Lords near the capital watched her with quiet amusement, their eyes gleaming with speculation.

Heat burned at Mira’s cheeks. Perfect. Now they were going to assume something was going on between her and Drake.

Suppressing a groan, she walked quickly to her seat, determined to avoid their pointed looks.

This tea party was going to be exhausting.

Mira sat at the table, her fingers resting lightly on the fine porcelain teacup as a maid poured her tea. She had long mastered the art of blending into the background at these tea parties—listening more than speaking, carefully navigating the swirling politics hidden beneath polite conversation.

But today, that strategy was proving to be more difficult than usual.

“Mira, you should have asked Halden to escort you,” Queen Tauri said, lifting her teacup gracefully.

“He’s busy, Your Majesty,” Mira replied, keeping her voice even.

Queen Tauri sighed. “That boy…” she murmured, shaking her head before turning to the group. “You see, Mira and Halden have been best friends since childhood. They played house all the time, attached at the hip.”

The other ladies smiled, their expressions tinged with nostalgia and amusement.

Queen Maraya, who had been watching Mira closely, finally spoke. “I hope my son wasn’t bothering you, Miss Mira.”

Mira met her gaze and dipped her head slightly. “I’m used to his antics, Your Majesty. It’s fine.”

Queen Maraya smirked, clearly pleased with her response, but before she could say more, Mira helped herself to a delicate slice of strawberry cake. The conversation at the table had shifted, and her fingers tightened slightly on the silver fork as she listened.

A noblewoman—Lady Herbert—was lamenting a recent prison break at her husband’s dungeons.

Mira, of course, knew exactly how it happened. Because she planned it. Kael and Vince had executed it flawlessly, extracting the prisoner before he could suffer an unjust fate.

“I was frightened for days, knowing there might be a criminal lurking near my estate,” Lady Herbert declared dramatically.

The other noblewomen murmured in agreement, calling the thief a criminal as though he had committed some heinous crime.

Mira had heard enough.

“What did the man steal again?” she asked, voice deceptively casual.

Lady Herbert barely glanced at her. “I believe it was some bread and butter?”

Mira’s lips parted slightly, a bitter amusement curling at the edges.

Lady Herbert continued, “Anyway, he was about to have his fingers—”

“Bread and butter,” Mira cut her off. “Basic necessities, then?”

Lady Herbert faltered. “Yes, but he stole them—”

“Well, that means Lord Herbert wasn’t doing his job,” Mira said coolly.

The table fell silent.

The noblewomen exchanged startled glances, their previous smug confidence wavering. Queen Tauri and Queen Maraya, however, were smirking.

Mira set her fork down and leaned slightly forward. “As the Lord of his land, shouldn’t he govern his people well enough that they wouldn’t need to steal food to survive?” She let her words sink in before adding, “Food—a basic human right.”

Lady Herbert swallowed, clearly flustered. “Are you accusing my husband, Miss Mira?”

“Oh no,” Mira said smoothly, tilting her head slightly. “I’m merely stating a fact.” Her voice softened—mockingly thoughtful. “In fact, let’s say circumstances shifted… If Lord Herbert himself had no money to feed his family, wouldn’t he do the same? Or would he simply watch you starve?”

The air turned thick with tension.

Lady Herbert’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

Mira smiled, the curve of her lips just sharp enough to be unsettling. “That was completely hypothetical, of course, Lady Herbert.”

A final, daggered smile.

Lady Herbert sat stiffly, clearly struggling for a response.

Queen Tauri chose that moment to smoothly shift the topic of conversation, rescuing the flustered noblewomen from Mira’s pointed words.

Mira sighed softly and sipped her tea, already so done with these nobles.

But then—she felt eyes on her.

She turned slightly, finding Queen Maraya studying her, gaze sharp yet unreadable.

Mira frowned. “Your Majesty?”

Queen Maraya blinked, as if realizing she had been caught. “It’s nothing,” she murmured, averting her gaze to her tea.

But Mira saw the way she studied her.

And for the first time, she realized—Queen Maraya had the same eyes as Drake.

Mira sat through the polite conversation, the idle gossip, the carefully veiled barbs exchanged between noblewomen who pretended to be friends. She knew what was coming—the moment the tea party ended, the mamas would descend on her like hawks, eager to push their sons forward as suitable matches.

It was only a matter of time.

So, the moment Queen Tauri signaled the tea party’s conclusion, Mira rose gracefully from her seat, offered a perfectly polite smile, and excused herself.

Then, as swiftly and silently as she had learned from years on the battlefield, she disappeared.

She darted through the greenhouse, past the delicate floral arrangements, slipping behind a large tree just as the mamas stood up, searching for her.

From her hiding spot, she watched them murmur to each other, scanning the garden, their eyes gleaming with determination.

Not today, she thought, resisting the urge to smirk.

Then—a hand touched her shoulder.

Mira gasped, instinctively reaching for the dagger she wasn’t carrying—only to whip around and find herself staring into the amused eyes of—

“Your Majesty!” she exhaled, hand over her heart. “You startled me.”

Queen Maraya, standing beside her, tilted her head in mild amusement.

Then, as if perfectly aware of what Mira was up to, she also stepped behind the tree.

“Who are we hiding from?” she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Mira blinked. Was she… actually hiding with her?

“The mamas, Your Majesty,” Mira admitted, lowering her voice as she peeked around the tree. “I’m hiding from the mamas who will talk nonstop about their sons.”

Queen Maraya let out a soft, knowing hum. “Ah… I see. So, you will be entertaining suitors?”

-QUEEN MARAYA-

For years, Queen Maraya ruled with calculated precision, always mindful of Poromiel’s fragile position. Unlike Navarre, they had no wards to protect their land, only their strength and their gryphons. She had been relentless in her political maneuvers, especially when it came to marriage proposals from the Isle Kingdoms.

Many had expected her to remarry after Drake’s father passed. It would have been the logical choice—to form a stronger alliance, to bear more heirs, to secure the throne’s future.

But she never did.

Instead, it had been just her and Drake.

And while she had no regrets about staying faithful to her late husband’s memory, she did regret not giving Drake siblings.

The weight he carried—the crown, the war, the unyielding responsibility of securing their continent’s survival against the Venin—it crushed her to think he bore it alone.

Drake never complained, though.

He was quick to smile, charming when he needed to be. But Maraya knew him well enough to see the truth.

Drake would always put Poromiel first.

Then her.

Then, if there was anything left, himself.

She had long accepted that her son had no interest in relationships. There were women, of course—some she had thought he liked—but they were fleeting, meaningless. He slept with them, forgot about them, and moved on as if they had never existed.

Syrena once joked, "Drake only likes women who might actually kill him."

Maraya had laughed, but… there was truth to it.

For a time, she had lost hope that Drake would ever find someone who would matter to him. Someone who would hold his heart the way his father had once held hers.

And then, they came to Calldyr.

And they met Mira Sorrengail.

A woman who carried herself with a regal air, beautiful, strong, commanding as her mother, Lilith Sorrengail.

Maraya had watched—observed—how, in just a few short weeks, Drake changed.

It was subtle at first. A glance here. A lingering look there. A quiet, unspoken gravitational pull that always placed him near Mira, whether he meant to or not.

And then, one evening, she found them in the small lounge.

Mira was asleep, her posture relaxed, her breathing even. And beside her sat Drake—awake, reading something idly, his body still.

His expression was peaceful.

For the first time in years, her son looked at ease.

She had exhaled slowly, murmuring a quiet thank you to the gods.

Thank the gods they came to Calldyr.

Maraya sipped her tea, her gaze following her son as he walked with Mira toward the greenhouse.

Minutes ago, he had done the same with her—escorting her with a quiet, familiar patience. But now, with Mira…

It was different.

Mira, despite her composed exterior, ignored him at first. But Drake was persistent—his hand closing gently around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

They exchanged a few words, something only they could hear.

And then, just before releasing her, Drake turned back and waved at Maraya.

Maraya arched a brow, amused. So this was how her son acted when he liked someone.

Persistent.

Unyielding.

He had always been charming when he wanted to be, but she had never seen him care like this before.

A slow smile tugged at her lips as Mira returned to the tea party.

Maraya watched, unimpressed, as Queen Tauri made it a point to highlight Mira’s supposed closeness with her son—Prince Halden.

Annoying.

She didn’t like it.

So, she leaned in, redirecting Mira’s attention to Drake, making subtle reminders of her son.

And then, just as the conversation veered toward a prison break, Mira dismantled Lady Herbert with nothing but words.

Brilliant.

Maraya smirked as Mira stated, coolly, that it was Lord Herbert’s responsibility to govern his people so they would not need to steal food in the first place.

The way Lady Herbert sputtered—flustered, unable to answer—was delightful.

And in less than an hour, Maraya understood why Drake liked her.

Mira did not bend.

She did not yield to nobles, nor did she entertain nonsense.

She was strong, razor-sharp with her words, and commanded every conversation she entered.

Maraya’s chest tightened with hope.

This was good.

For Drake.

For Poromiel.

Drake had spent too long carrying the weight of the crown alone—but if Mira stood beside him… she could share the burden.

A woman like Mira Sorrengail, with her unyielding strength and aligned values, would never back down from a fight.

She would stand at his side, not behind him.

Perfect.

As soon as the tea party ended, Mira excused herself.

Maraya’s sharp eyes followed her as she slipped behind a tree, hiding.

Maraya smiled.

With quiet steps, she followed after her.

Maraya moved gracefully behind Mira and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Mira gasped, spinning around.

“Your Majesty!” she exhaled, pressing a hand over her heart. “You startled me.”

Maraya’s lips twitched in amusement. She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with quiet mischief.

“Who are we hiding from?”

Mira blinked, clearly caught off guard, then glanced around the tree before lowering her voice.

“The mamas, Your Majesty,” she admitted, peeking out cautiously. “I’m hiding from the mamas who will talk nonstop about their sons.”

Maraya hummed in understanding. “Ah… I see. So, you will be entertaining suitors?”

So these noblewomen were campaigning for their sons.

Mira let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, I have to, Your Majesty. My mother is tired of all the requests she’s been receiving. I only have to entertain them.”

Maraya arched a brow. “Unfortunate? Why? You don’t want to entertain their sons?”

Mira snorted softly. “Most of them are hypocrites. Just look at Lady Herbert.” She shook her head. “Some are okay, but to be honest… I don’t really care to get to know them.”

Maraya hummed thoughtfully. She has to try.

“You seem comfortable with the Tauris,” she noted, pausing before adding, “and my son.”

Mira exhaled through her nose, shifting. “Yeah, well… I grew up with the Tauris. And your son…” she huffed. “He’s annoyingly persistent to be friends. He’s everywhere I go—oh, I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” 

Maraya chuckled. “It’s quite alright. Drake can be persistent when he likes something.”

She took a step closer, her voice turning lighter. “Aside from being handsome, he is highly skilled in combat—he has faced battlefields and survived them.” She smiled, watching Mira’s reaction. “He is intelligent, even wrote a book, although he is a prince he is not spoiled he works hard.”

Mira’s brows lifted.

“And, of course,” Maraya finished, eyes gleaming with knowing amusement, “he smiles charmingly—just like his father.”

Mira’s jaw dropped. Realization dawned on her face.

“Your Majesty… did you just…” she stammered.

Maraya cut her off with a soft chuckle, placing both hands on Mira’s shoulders.

“Yes, I did.” She squeezed lightly, voice smooth. “I am a mother first before a queen, Mira.”

Mira’s mouth opened and closed.

For the first time, she was speechless and blushing.

Maraya was still enjoying the sight when movement near the greenhouse caught her eye.

Drake had arrived. Maraya waved him over. “Drake, we are here.”

His confident stride brought him toward them, his whiskey-colored eyes immediately locking onto Mira.

Drake’s lips curved into an easy smile. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, offering both of them his hand.

Maraya felt Mira stiffen slightly beside her.

With a knowing smirk, she dropped one hand from Mira’s shoulder—only to drag the other down her arm, to her wrist, to her hand.

Then, smoothly, she placed Mira’s hand into Drake’s waiting palm.

Drake’s fingers curled around it instantly, his grip firm but gentle.

His smile widened.

Oh, her son was such a pretty boy when he was happy.

Maraya simply took Drake’s other arm and led them forward, walking straight past the mamas and Queen Tauri, who were watching with thinly veiled interest.

Maraya lifted her chin, her expression smug.

Don’t get your hopes up, ladies—she doesn’t even care to get to know your sons.

-DRAKE-

Drake led his mother, Queen Maraya, and Mira out of the greenhouse and into the palace. As they walked, he was acutely aware of the noblewomen’s eyes following them. He wondered why they were staring, but the only thing that truly mattered was the warmth of Mira’s hand in his. It was the first time he had actually held her hand rather than grabbing her wrist in frustration or urgency. Her hand was small compared to his, soft and warm, and it fit so perfectly in his grasp that he had to suppress the smug smirk threatening to take over his face. He needed to thank his mother later for this moment.

When they stepped inside the palace, Queen Maraya excused herself with a pat on his shoulder, her lips tilting into a knowing smile. Then, just as she turned to leave, she winked at Mira. Mira, for her part, immediately pulled her hand from his grasp as if she had been burned. She glared at him, but the blush dusting her cheeks and ears betrayed her. She brushed past him and strode through the halls towards the lounge. Drake exhaled, shaking his head with a grin, and followed after her.

As soon as they reached the private lounge, Drake’s eyes narrowed at the group huddled together. Halden, Violet, Rhi, Cam, Ridoc, and Sawyer were murmuring about something, but the moment Mira walked in, they quickly dispersed. Mira arched a brow and dropped onto the couch next to Halden, crossing her arms. Drake followed her lead and sat beside her.

“What is it?” Mira asked.

“Nothing,” Halden answered too quickly, picking up a newspaper and pretending to read.

Before Mira could press further, the door opened again, and in walked Xaden, Bodhi, Garrick, and Liam. Drake’s jaw clenched the moment he saw the bouquet of purple hydrangeas in Liam’s hands. Those were for Mira. He just knew it. His suspicion was confirmed when Halden abandoned the pretense of reading and narrowed his eyes at the flowers.

“Mira, these came for you,” Liam said, extending the bouquet.

Before it could reach Mira, Violet snatched it from Liam’s grasp, her expression darkening. She yanked the card from the bouquet and muttered, her voice filled with venom, “That pigheaded viscount. I will destroy him.”

Xaden and the others took their seats, Xaden settling beside Violet, his arm draping behind her chair in a move that had become almost second nature to him. Then, as if he hadn’t done enough, he slid his foot beneath Violet’s, subtly trapping hers under his. She didn’t seem to mind—or she was too preoccupied with her seething anger over the flowers.

“Give me that,” Mira demanded, reaching for the note.

Violet hesitated, gripping the card tightly, but one look from Mira had her relenting. As soon as Mira unfolded the note, Drake leaned in to read over her shoulder.

***

Mira Darling,

I just arrived in Calldyr. I want to talk, tell me when and where. I will be waiting.

-Tait Archibald.

***

Drake scoffed the moment he finished reading. “Why does he want to talk to you?” Darling? I will be waiting? Sova echoed mockingly in his mind. 

Shut up, Sova! Mind your own business! Drake huffs getting irritated.

Violet’s lips parted, then she abruptly stopped herself.

Drake’s gaze sharpened. “What?” he demanded.

Mira exhaled through her nose, her expression unreadable. “It’s none of anyone’s business but the viscount’s and mine.”

Ah so it wasn't your business as well. Sova teased Drake even further, Drake reinforced his shield with a threat. 

Halden immediately spoke up, his tone sharp. “Don’t say you’ll see him.”

Something cold and ugly settled in Drake’s chest at the thought of it.

Mira didn’t confirm, but instead, she turned to Violet and Halden. “Whatever you’re planning, stop it.”

“But, Mira” Violet snapped. “I told him if he showed his face, I’d destroy him.”

Drake watched as Violet’s expression turned into one of pure plotting. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but he was sure it wasn’t good.

“I said no, Vi. I will handle the viscount.”

Violet glared at her sister, her expression akin to someone whose birthday had just been canceled. “Fine,” she bit out. “But if gets near you without your permission, one of my daggers will be embedded to his skull…”

A minute later, Violet stood up and walked to the door. Xaden’s gaze followed her every move, like a predator keeping tabs on its prey. Then, Ridoc, Sawyer, Cam, and Rhi all stood and followed Violet.

Mira narrowed her eyes. “Ridoc,” she called after him, making him pause. “Make sure there is no…” She hesitated, her gaze flicking toward Drake, Xaden, Bodhi, and Garrick before continuing, “fire.”

Ridoc nodded. “Got it.”

Drake leaned back in his chair, staring at Mira's profile, His jaw ticked, the muscle in his cheek tightening as he exhaled slowly through his nose.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden’s gaze followed Violet as she moved toward the door, her every step deliberate, a silent storm brewing behind those sharp eyes. He had caught Mira’s hesitation before she uttered the word “fire” in her warning to Ridoc.

Was Violet a fire wielder?

The thought sent a shiver of something darkly intrigued down his spine. He imagined her, fire licking at her fingertips, controlled and dangerous, her eyes alight with fury. Fuck—that was hot.

He forced himself to refocus as Halden’s voice cut through the moment. “I asked you a question, Mira. Are you going to see him?”

Mira’s gaze drifted toward the table where Violet had discarded the hydrangeas. Her fingers twitched slightly before she clasped them together. “Maybe?” Her voice lacked its usual steel. “I don’t know yet.”

“I won’t interfere if that’s your decision,” Halden said, his tone measured, but there was something darker beneath it. “But Violet—well, you know her. The Viscount is currently in a meeting with your mother as we speak.”

Mira let out a heavy sigh, as if the weight of it all had settled onto her shoulders.

Xaden shifted his attention to Drake, who sat rigid beside Mira, his hands curled into fists, his jaw tight. The same man who had walked in looking smug while holding Mira’s hand now radiated pure, simmering rage.

Xaden turned his thoughts back to the Viscount, curiosity gnawing at him. What had Tait Archibald done to make Violet want to destroy him?

He itched to lower his shields, to slip into Violet’s mind and hear exactly what she had planned. He wanted to know how she would execute her vengeance. If she wielded fire, then she could be unstoppable. The thought of Violet burning something—or someone—just to prove a point had his mind spiraling into places it really shouldn’t.

And then there was the other issue. His chess victory meant that Violet had agreed to a date with him. But there was one massive problem—

He had never been on a date.

Xaden cursed inwardly. He had been too preoccupied with battles and missions to waste time on something as trivial as romance. But Violet? Had she gone on dates before? If she had, then he was doomed. How was he supposed to top whatever past experiences she’d had? What if he bored her? What if she regretted agreeing?

This required research.

What did she like? Did she like flowers? Would she even care about a traditional date, or was she the type who wanted something thrilling, something outside the norm? When should he do it? Was there a strategic advantage to choosing a particular time? He needed to plan this out, to ensure that it wasn’t just good—it had to be perfect.

Halden abruptly stood and left the room, followed closely by Mira, then Drake, who lingered for a beat longer, his dark glare promising destruction to someone. Probably the Viscount.

Before Mira could follow the others out, Xaden called after her, “Actually, Mira—can I talk to you privately?”

Mira paused, glancing over her shoulder. After a brief hesitation, she nodded.

Drake paused as well glaring at Xaden mouthing “Don't fuck with me.” Xaden just shook his head.

It took another five beats until Drake left the lounge, and Xaden found himself alone with Mira. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, watching her carefully.

He wasn’t sure why he felt nervous—to him Mira wasn’t exactly intimidating, but something about this conversation made his throat dry. Maybe it was because he was about to ask her for advice on something he’d never done before.

Mira caught the look on his face and arched a brow before settling back onto the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck before finally coughing and forcing himself to start. “I’m planning a date with Violet. I was thinking if you could help me?”

Mira’s brow lifted higher before she smirked. “A date? Hmmm… that’s fun, what do you want to know?”

“Her likes? I haven’t done this before,” Xaden admitted. “And I’d like to know if she has… so I know if she already did that with someone else.”

Mira’s lips curled into an amused smile. “Well, she has been on dates with Alic before. They dated a few years ago—”

“Alic? What?” Xaden cut her off, his entire body tensing at the revelation.

Mira held up a hand, clearly entertained by his reaction. “Don’t worry, they ended amicably and no one other than our friend group knew about it even our mother doesn't know, I think it was not that serious that they could still be friends.”

Xaden barely heard the rest of her words as his mind reeled. Alic and Violet used to date? A slow-burning acid churned in his chest.

Mira sighed and rolled her eyes. “Hey, lover boy, stop reeling and listen to me.”

Xaden snapped out of his thoughts, clenching his jaw and nodding for her to continue.

“I believe they went to dinners together. Violet doesn’t need grand gestures every time, your effort is more important,” Mira explained patiently. “Aside from books, you can give her daggers—she’d appreciate those. Oh, and you might need to court Andarna too. Prove to Andarna you’re worthy of Violet. Then… well, I don’t know what Tairn will say, but he’s mated to your Sgaeyl, so I think you’re in good standing there.”

Xaden nodded, committing every word to memory.

Mira stood and walked toward the door but then hesitated, turning back to him. “Just be yourself, Xaden. Don’t overthink it. And whatever you do, don’t make a deal with my mother.”

Xaden stood there for a moment, Mira’s words replaying in his mind.

Alic and Violet used to date? That information burned like acid in his chest. He never thought Alic was competition—at least, not like this. He knew they were friends, but dating? Xaden clenched his jaw, shaking off the thought. Mira said it was over. Amicable. Just friends. He needed to focus.

Books. Daggers. Andarna. No to deals with General Sorrengail.

Tairn would be easy—he and Sgaeyl were bonded, after all. But Andarna? He had no idea how to court a dragon, let alone Violet’s dragon. And knowing Violet, if Andarna didn’t approve, that was going to be a problem.

His fingers twitched at his side. He was going to have to step up.

As he exited the lounge, his mind was already racing with plans. He needed to make this date perfect. Not just another dinner. Not just a simple, predictable night. He wanted to give Violet something she’d never forget. Something that would make sure no other man—including Alic Tauri—could ever compare.

Xaden exhaled, determination settling deep in his bones.

Time to get to work.

-DRAKE-

Why does he want to talk to her?

The question clawed at him, refusing to let go.

It wasn’t just that the pighead viscount wanted to talk to her. It was the way Mira had hesitated when she answered. The way she looked at those damn hydrangeas Violet left behind, her voice softer than he was used to.

"Maybe? I don’t know yet." 

Drake ran a hand down his face, as if that could push the irritation away. He hated that answer, it irked him. Mira wasn’t indecisive — she was direct, confident. She knew what she wanted. So why the hell was she unsure about him? 

He sat forward, elbows braced on his thighs, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles turned white, his head full of questions he didn’t want answers to. How long were they together? How serious were they? What had happened between them that made her hesitate now?

Does she still care about him?

He clenched his fists tighter until his nails bit into his palms. It pissed him off that she was even considering talking to the man.

Because why talk to him at all?

Drake leaned back again, dragging in a slow breath through his nose. He needed to calm down. Mira wasn’t his to control — she wasn’t anyone’s to control. He liked that about her.

Like? He likes Mira Sorrengail. It was not just interest anymore. Damn it if the thought of her being anyone else’s made his stomach churn.

Drake Cordella wants Mira Sorrengail. 

He exhaled, closing his eyes briefly.

If that Viscount so much as breathed the wrong way in her direction…

Drake smiled to himself, dark and dangerous.

He’d make sure it was the last breath the man ever took.

-GARRICK-

Garrick exited the private lounge with Bodhi, Imogen, Drake, and Halden, casting a glance over his shoulder. He was surprised that Xaden had stayed behind, specifically asking to speak with Mira. It wasn’t hard to guess what that conversation was about—most likely Violet.

As they made their way down the hall, they found Violet, Liam, Rhi, Cam, and Ridoc gathered near the balcony overlooking the grand staircase and the vast hall below. The palace was growing more crowded by the hour; nobles were arriving in preparation for tomorrow’s ball.

Violet stood at the railing, flicking a dagger in one hand, her gaze murderous as she glared at someone below.

Garrick approached, settling beside them. “What are we looking at?”

“The pigheaded viscount,” Violet muttered, nodding toward a man in a velvet blu robe. A gold sword rested at his side, likely more for decoration than actual use. He was lean yet muscular, with a full but meticulously groomed beard, black hair, and piercing black eyes. At the moment, he was engaged in conversation with General Sorrengail.

“That’s him?” Drake asked, his jaw tightening. “The one who keeps sending Mira flowers?”

“Tait Archibald. Mira’s ex,” Cam confirmed.

Imogen hummed, tilting her head. “He’s kinda hot, I can see the appeal.”

Garrick shot her a glare. “Read the room, Im. We hate him.” He did not know how and when it happen but their group and the legacies merged.

Imogen merely shrugged. 

“Too bad Mira forbade us…” Rhi sighed.

“Well,” Ridoc mused, “let’s say he trips and cracks his head open—wouldn’t lead back to us.”

“Mira will figure it out, What did he do anyway?” Liam asked curiously.

“It is more like what he did not do, I don’t think Mira would like you to know,” Cam said.

“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Bodhi murmured, eyes narrowing at the scene below.

Before anyone could speculate further, Mira’s voice cut through their circle. "Vi." They all turned as Mira approached, her expression unreadable, forming a loose circle as they turned toward her. Violet was practically vibrating with fury. Garrick tensed, wondering if Mira would let her act on it. Instead, she plucked the dagger from Violet’s grip. 

Violet huffed. "Mira, just one dagger, please."

Mira calmly tucked it back into Violet’s vest. "No." Her voice was firm, but her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Let me handle him."

Violet clenched her jaw. "I’m angry, Mira."

Mira cupped Violet’s face, pressing a series of quick, soft kisses against her forehead and cheeks. It was like watching someone try to soothe a storm. Then, she leaned in and whispered something into Violet’s ear.

Violet’s eyes widened. Whatever Mira had said changed her entire demeanor. The seething rage dissipated, replaced with something more calculating.

"I need to go talk to someone," Violet announced, straightening her shoulders. Then, she glanced at the group, her voice deadly serious. "Everyone, don’t let the pighead near Mira."

She strode off, leaving Mira smirking at her retreating form, arms crossed.

A beat of silence passed before Drake, looking entirely too hopeful, stepped forward. "Mira, I’m angry."

Mira turned her sharp glare on him. "And?"

Garrick groaned, dragging a hand down his face. The Prince of Poromiel was doomed.

Drake was clearly trying to pull the same move as Violet, hoping for—what? A kiss? He will more likely, receive a stab wound.

Garrick clapped a hand onto Drake’s shoulder and steered him in the opposite direction. "Why don’t we get some fresh air and lounge in the courtyard instead?"

The others murmured their agreement, already moving. As they walked, Garrick leaned in and muttered to Drake, “Do you have a death wish, Your highness?”

-VIOLET-

"Professor Kaori just landed. He’s in his office now," Mira whispered in her ear.

Violet’s fury for the Viscount was immediately shoved aside. Her heart jolted, breath catching. She needed to talk to Professor Kaori—to confirm it. To know if this gnawing, all-consuming feeling she had for Xaden was real… or if it was just Tairn and Sgaeyl messing with her head.

"Don’t let the pighead near Mira," she told the group firmly. Partly because she wanted to make sure Mira stayed safe… and partly because she needed to do this alone.

Her footsteps echoed down the stone halls as she made her way toward Professor Kaori’s office. Her heart pounded harder with every step. What if she was right? What if this thing with Xaden wasn’t hers at all? What if it was just… them? The dragons.

She had to know.

When she reached the heavy oak door, she knocked, barely breathing.

"Come in," came the familiar voice from the other side.

Violet's breath came quicker than it should have as she closed the door behind her. The sound of it clicking shut echoed in the quiet office. She took a moment to steady herself, fingers tightening around the edge of her jacket as if grounding herself could stop the chaotic storm of thoughts pounding in her chest.

Professor Kaori glanced up from his desk, his warm smile not faltering as he placed another worn book onto the stack beside him. "Ah, Violet. What can I do for you?"

She exhaled slowly. Don't hesitate. Just ask.

“I need to talk to you,” Violet said, her voice stronger than she felt. “About... the bond and the mates.”

Kaori’s brow arched slightly. “Tairn and Sgaeyl?”

She nodded, stepping forward until she stood just in front of his desk. “I think—” She hesitated. The words stuck in her throat, as if saying them would make it real.

She didn’t want it to be real.

But she had to know.

“I think the bond is affecting me. The way I feel about someone.”

Kaori tilted his head, curiosity sharpening his gaze. “Feel... how? Are you shielding?”

"Yes… but I can still feel them," she admitted. "I can always feel them."

Kaori nodded. "That’s natural. You may not be able to block them completely."

Violet exhaled. "Right. I was wondering… can they… affect who we’re feeling these emotions for?"

Kaori’s eyes softened with understanding. He smiled gently. "No, Violet. They can’t."

Her stomach flipped. "But… they amplify it, don’t they?"

"Yes," he said patiently. "Just like when our dragons empower us, but they don’t choose what signets we manifest. And they certainly don’t choose who you like."

Her breath caught. "Really? What if I feel like… claiming someone? I definitely haven't felt that before, why do I suddenly feel it?"

Kaori chuckled lightly. "That feeling of claiming may be amplified by Tairn. But who you want to claim—especially when you’re triggered — is entirely up to you. You may have not felt it before because you have not found anyone you want to claim."

Violet swallowed hard. "Oh." Her chest felt too tight, her heart pounding faster than before. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to feel relieved or terrified.

Told you. Andarna butts in her head.

Andarna, you are still a baby. Violet chastised.

I'm not a baby anymore, I'm an adolescent! Andarna huffs.

You are my baby. Violet said then reinforce her shield.

"You’re smart, Violet. Don’t over analyze it so much," Kaori said, his smile turning teasing. "And don’t worry—I won’t tell your mother you like the Prince of Tyrrendor."

Violet blinked, heat crawling up her neck. "I didn’t say it was Xaden."

"You didn’t need to," he said with a knowing grin. "It’s written all over your face."

Damn it.

“If you feel something for the Prince... that’s all you, Violet. Not Tairn. Not Sgaeyl.”

“So... it’s real,” she said quietly.

Kaori smiled gently. “Only you can say that for certain. But if you feel like claiming then... it probably is.”

Violet swallowed hard. Her chest felt too tight, her heart beating too fast.

***

Violet left Professor Kaori's office feeling a mix of nervousness and relief. She exhaled deeply, her steps unsteady but lighter than they’d been in days. She had spent too many sleepless nights spiraling—wondering if her feelings for Xaden were even real or if it was all because of the bond… because he was Sgaeyl’s rider. But now she knew.

It was hers.

Her feet carried her without thought, guiding her to the patio that overlooked the courtyard steps. From where she stood, she could see all her friends lounging below. Liam laughing at something Ridoc said. Bodhi lazily flicking a stone across the cobblestones. Drake standing with his arms crossed, looking like he wanted to punch something—or someone.

And Xaden.

Her breath caught. He was sitting on the edge of the steps, dark eyes scanning the courtyard casually—until they found her. The second he saw her, his gaze sharpened. Intense. Focused. She felt it like a physical thing.

She sighed softly. She wasn’t ready to face him yet.

"Violet."

Her name was soft, hesitant. She turned, surprised to find Catriona standing a few feet away, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Syrena lingered three steps behind, watching closely. And from the hall behind the patio, Violet could see them. Her mother. The Kings and Queens. All looking at them now.

Violet raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Catriona hesitated. Her voice dropped so only Violet could hear. "I… I want to apologize for making a scene the other day. My jealousy got the best of me. I was a bitch to you."

Violet tilted her head slightly. But she wasn’t done with this conversation. Not yet. "You were jealous because…?"

Catriona's shoulders slumped. She looked away briefly before meeting Violet’s eyes again. "Because… I was engaged to Xaden for seven months."

Violet's breath caught. She knew that much — everyone did — but hearing it now… it still stung.

"And?" she pushed.

"And he never once looked at me the way he looks at you," Catriona admitted, voice trembling slightly. "I can see that he likes you. You don’t need to worry about me… because Xaden was never mine in the first place. He ended the engagement years ago."

Violet’s lips curved slowly, but there was no humor in it. No warmth. "Good," she said quietly.

Before Catriona could respond, Violet reached out, her fingertips brushing against her arm. She pushed a faint pulse of her power—not enough to burn, but strong enough to make Catriona’s muscles seize painfully.

Catriona gasped, her eyes going wide. "What…?"

Violet tilted her head, voice calm but low. "Because I’ve changed my mind. You can’t have him."

Shock flashed across Catriona's face. "You want the crown?"

"No." Violet's voice was barely above a whisper, but it was sharp enough to cut. "I want him. Do you understand?"

Catriona nodded quickly.

"Say it," Violet demanded.

Catriona swallowed hard. "Xaden is yours."

Violet smiled. She removed her hand, and Catriona sagged slightly, shaking her arm. "You’re forgiven," Violet said sweetly.

But her attention had already shifted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement—Viscount Archibald, that pigheaded bastard, making his way toward Mira. Violet’s fury ignited in an instant. Still looking at Catriona, she reached for her dagger, flicking it effortlessly.

It buried itself in the stone inches from the Viscount’s foot. He stumbled to a halt, eyes wide.

Catriona gasped. "You weren’t even looking at him," she whispered, voice awed.

Violet ignored her. She turned fully to the courtyard now, her voice carrying as she descended the steps.

"One more step toward Mira," she said, voice cold and clear. "And the next dagger will kill you."

The courtyard fell into a heavy silence. All eyes were on her now.

-DRAKE-

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting long shadows over the courtyard steps where they lounged. Somehow, the legacies and their group had merged—an uneasy truce. Or something close to it.

Mira sat two steps below him, close enough that her shoulder rested lightly against his knee. From where he sat, Drake could see the curve of her profile perfectly. The gentle slope of her nose. The way her lashes flicked down when she glanced at the ground. He found himself watching her again more than he should—more than what was reasonable.

And then Halden appeared.

“I have a feeling you need this,” the prince said, handing Mira a cup of frozen yogurt topped with strawberries and kiwi.

Her face lit up instantly, a bright, genuine smile that punched Drake right in the chest.

He wanted to be the one to make her smile like that.

His jaw ticked as Mira accepted the cup, scooping a spoonful of yogurt and licking the spoon with a soft hum of satisfaction. Drake’s irritation deepened. Earlier, when he’d told her he was angry — like Violet — he’d hoped for… well, something other than a glare. And now, as she sat there, eating her yogurt, he found himself wishing he could trade places with the damn spoon.

Pathetic. Sova teased him again.

His brooding was interrupted when Imogen nudged him lightly. "Look up at the patio," she said.

Drake glanced up. Violet and Catriona stood near the edge, talking. Or at least, Catriona was talking. Good. She was finally apologizing for being a jealous brat.

Drake was about to look away when he felt Mira stiffen against his knee.

His gaze snapped to her. Her entire posture had changed—shoulders tense, jaw tight. She wasn’t even blinking.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

Mira didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Drake followed her gaze to the man approaching from across the courtyard.

Viscount Tait Archibald.

Drake’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Of course, it was him. Of course, the asshole thought he could just walk up to her after everything. Like nothing had happened. Like he still had the right to speak to her.

The longer Drake watched him, the hotter his blood burned. If Archibald thought he could talk to Mira now — surrounded by their people, with Drake sitting right here—he was sorely mistaken.

And then…

Thud.

A dagger landed inches from the Viscount's foot. He stumbled, eyes wide in shock.

"Fuck, that is hot," Xaden muttered behind him.

Drake blinked, surprised. Not by the dagger—no, that was expected—but by the sheer accuracy of it. He followed the arc back up to the patio. Violet was standing there, her hand still hovering where she’d thrown it.

"Damn," Liam breathed. "Violet is really pissed."

"Good thing she didn’t flick those daggers at Cat," Bodhi added.

No one said anything else. They were all too busy staring.

Violet descended the steps from the patio slowly, deliberately. Her expression was calm, but her voice carried—cold and clear.

"One more step toward Mira," she said. "And the next dagger will kill you."

The courtyard fell into stunned silence.

Drake exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Now that was Sorrengail loyalty.

Violet had certainly made her point clear—and he loved every second of it.

"Hello, Violet. Good to see you too," Tait said, his voice oily with faux charm.

Violet looked at him with open disdain. "I can't say the same for you," she shot back. "What’s with the beard? It’s ugly."

Ridoc and Liam stifled their laughter, shoulders shaking as they tried—and failed—to keep it quiet. Drake bit down on his own smirk.

Tait’s smile faltered for a brief second. "Oh, come on, I just want to talk to Mira."

Violet tilted her head slightly. "Have you forgotten what I told you? Don’t show yourself to Mira or I will destroy you." She paused, eyes narrowing. "You know, I could. The only thing stopping me… is Mira."

Drake watched the exchange, heat simmering under his skin. God, he loved how Violet didn’t hold back.

Tait’s smile returned, but this time it was smug, like he thought he’d found a crack to exploit. "Well, maybe she wants to see me. That’s why she’s stopping you."

Drake’s fists clenched instinctively. The audacity.

"I doubt it," Violet deadpanned.

Then Mira stood.

"That’s enough, Violet," she said calmly, but there was steel in her voice.

Drake stood too, immediately. No way in hell was he letting Tait get close to her.

Tait’s expression shifted as he looked at Mira—softer, pleading. He extended his hand toward her. "Mira, darling… please. Give me a chance to explain. Five minutes tops."

Drake tensed. His entire body coiled, ready to move. The rest of the group stirred too, standing as if by instinct, but Drake didn’t glance back. His focus stayed on Mira.

She took a slow breath, stepping forward. Calm. Collected. Dangerous. She didn’t blink as she approached Tait, her glare never wavering.

And then, as they came shoulder to shoulder, she glanced at his outstretched hand.

She scoffed. Smirked. 

Then looked him dead in the eye.

"You don't deserve even a minute. We were done a long time ago. You should move on."

Drake’s chest tightened. God, she was magnificent.

She continued walking past Tait, not sparing him another glance. Tait’s face hardened, the rejection hitting him square in the chest. But instead of backing down gracefully, he reached out—his hand darting toward Mira’s wrist.

Drake didn’t think.

He moved.

Fast.

His shoulder slammed into Tait with enough force to send the man staggering back. Tait stumbled, nearly losing his balance.

"Watch it," Drake growled lowly, eyes dark with warning.

Tait straightened, anger flashing in his eyes, Violet place a hand on her hip, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face.

"You are my favorite Cordella," she said, tilting her head approvingly at Drake.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders back as the tension in his chest loosened. He wasn’t expecting Violet’s approval, but it felt… good.

Hell, maybe now she liked him for Mira.

And if he had to throw another shoulder into Tait to keep it that way, well… he was more than happy to oblige.

Chapter Text

-QUEEN MARAYA-

Queen Maraya pulled her robe tighter around herself as she padded softly through the dark halls of the palace. Sleep had eluded her tonight, and rather than summon a maid for tea, she decided to fetch it herself. The quiet of the halls was soothing, the moonlight casting silver slivers across the marble floors.

As she neared the kitchens, a dull thud echoed through the corridors. She paused, head tilting. Another thud followed. It was rhythmic, sharp. Like... daggers hitting wood.

Curiosity piqued, she followed the sound toward the gym. As she slipped inside, the sight that greeted her made her pause. Mira stood at the far end in a black silk nightgown and slippers, her hair loose around her shoulders. Her arm moved with precise, deadly grace, sending dagger after dagger into the center of the target with unwavering focus.

"Can’t sleep?" Maraya asked, bending to pick up a stray dagger from the floor.

Mira halted mid-throw, turning to face her with a nod. There was a flicker of emotion in her eyes—frustration, perhaps? Or something deeper.

According to Garrick, Viscount Archibald was Mira's ex. They had broken up two years ago, and now the man was back, seeking reconciliation. Maraya could only imagine what his presence stirred in Mira.

Maraya straightened, weighing the dagger in her hand before setting it down. "Me too. I was going to get some tea, but since I’m here... would you like to spar?"

Mira blinked in surprise, then smiled slightly. "Your Majesty, we’re in our nightgowns."

Maraya shrugged with a playful smirk. "Can’t we spar in nightgowns? We’re the only ones here."

Mira glanced around the empty gym, hesitating for only a second before picking up a wooden staff. "Don’t hold back, Your Majesty."

"I won’t," Maraya promised.

They circled each other, the first clash of wood against wood reverberating through the gym. Mira moved with calculated grace, her strikes precise and powerful. Maraya found herself smiling as they traded blows. It reminded her of her younger days—the thrill of the fight, the joy of exertion.

She didn't know how long they sparred, but by the time Mira disarmed her with a graceful, well-timed strike, sending Maraya's staff clattering across the floor, both women were panting and smiling.

They sat together on the cool floor, breathless but content.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I needed that," Mira admitted.

Maraya nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. "I think I needed it too. It's been too long since I sparred."

Her fingers brushed the small dagger strapped to her thigh—a Cordella heirloom passed down from her grandfather. She unsheathed it, the silver blade gleaming under the mage lights. Without a word, she held it out to Mira.

Mira's eyes widened. "I... I can’t accept that."

Maraya pushed the hilt toward her, smiling gently. "I heard that when riders win a sparring match, they earn a weapon from their opponent. I want you to have it. Please. I’ll be upset if you don’t."

Mira hesitated for a beat before taking the dagger reverently, examining the intricate silverwork and the gem-encrusted hilt. She traced her thumb over the crest, unaware that the gems amplified power—a truth Maraya would explain soon enough when Mira learned of the Venin.

"It’s beautiful, Your Majesty. Thank you. I will treasure it."

They rose slowly, both women returning their staffs to the rack before parting ways. As Maraya made her way back to her chambers, she found herself smiling softly.

She wondered how Drake would react when he saw Mira carrying a Cordella heirloom at her side, the very one that matches his sword. 

-VIOLET-

The archives stretched endlessly before her—tall, ancient bookshelves filled with memories, knowledge, and power. Violet moved through them with purpose, bare feet silent on the cool stone floor. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, but the space hummed with familiar energy.

Her gaze shifted to the large black door at the far end, veins of onyx swirling through its cracks. It pulsed faintly, like it was alive. Tairn’s power. His bond to Violet. She kept it firmly closed, shielding it until he returned from his mating ritual. 

Beside the shelves stood a window. Violet approached it, its frame faintly illuminated with gentle, swirling purples. Andarna’s bond. Her power. Violet always kept that window open. For Andarna.

Reaching out, she pushed the window open a little further, and the familiar chime of Andarna’s voice drifted through.

"I want a ruby necklace. Just like Violet’s bracelet… and Mira’s ring."

Violet sighed, lips twitching in amusement. The young dragon had been making that demand ever since she and Tairn had left her. It was her way of feeling connected, of mattering. She never felt like she truly belonged with the other dragons her age. When she was younger and gold, she used to whine about it constantly, pouting and demanding, "I want to be a Sorrengail."

Violet chuckled under her breath. "Tairn better come back with a massive ruby for you, Andarna. Otherwise, we’ll never hear the end it."

The bond stretched thin. Too far from Calldyr to feel more than a faint pulse. She had no idea if Tairn could hear her… but she hoped he could.

She sighed, turning from the window—but then her eyes caught something.

A table.

It hadn’t been there before.

Her heart slowed.

There, in the center of the room where no table had ever stood, sat a blue journal and an ink pot. Violet frowned. Her feet carried her forward, curiosity outweighing caution.

Her fingers brushed the spine of the journal. It was warm. Soft.

The cover flipped open on its own. Blue light swirled faintly in the air, as if breathing.

A voice—feminine, gentle, yet powerful—echoed through the room.

"Hello, Silver One."

Violet gasped, her hand jerking back.

The ink pot toppled over.

Dark liquid spilled out—but it didn’t stop at the edges of the table. It flowed unnaturally, thick as smoke, spreading and swirling, whirling upward like it had a life of its own.

Black shadows twisted in the air, curling, growing.

Her breath caught in her chest.

And then she woke up.

Her heart pounded wildly, sweat clinging to her skin. She closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath.

It was just a dream.

But when she slipped back into her mental archives, it was still there.

The black door. 

The purple window.

The blue journal.

And the dark, shadowy swirls, coiling in the air.

Something had changed.

-KING FEN-

The jewels of Riorson House lay gleaming on the dark oak table before him, each piece a testament to power, legacy, and the weight of his family name and kingdom. Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, silver and gold reflected the afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall windows of his private chambers. Fen’s hands moved thoughtfully over the collection—rings, necklaces, tiaras—but none of them felt quite right. Not for her.

Today was the most anticipated ball of the leadership summit. Royals, dignitaries and warriors from across the continent would gather in the grand hall of Calldyr’s Palace. Fen had never cared much for the politics of such events… but tonight was different.

Tonight, she would be there.

Violet Sorrengail, his soon-to-be daughter-in-law, although Xaden has not earned her heart. Yet.

Fen chuckled softly to himself. "Yet" was the key word.

She had already won his respect, not just for her reputation as a Sorrengail woman but for the way she carried herself — sharp-witted, quick-tongued, with a heart as fierce as any warrior queen. He wanted to thank her. Not just for helping him secure the outposts or for choosing the perfect outfit for tonight’s ball, but for something more personal.

For their friendship that resembles father-daughter relationship.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Suri, one of his closest advisors, stepped inside with a cautious expression. "Your Majesty… did I hear it correctly you’re giving one of Tyrrendor’s jewels to Violet Sorrengail?"

Fen arched a brow. "I’m the king, Suri. I can gift my jewels to whoever I please."

Suri hesitated but gave a shallow bow. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Her mouth twitched, but she said nothing more as she exists his chamber She knew better.

"Forgive Suri, Your majesty, Suri is just being Suri," his aid commented.

"Yes of course, but being my advisor she does not have a say to whatever I do to my family jewels besides" Fen added, his voice softer now, almost amused. "When my Xaden and Violet marry, all of our family jewels will be hers anyway."

Fen turned back to the table, fingers trailing over the glittering collection. His eyes landed on the gold diamond barrettes—elegant, understated, but unmistakable. They caught the light just enough to shimmer without being gaudy. Perfect.

They represented Riorson House—Xaden's house—and once Violet wore them in her silver-tipped hair tonight, every Tyrish noble in the ballroom would know she was under his protection.

He picked them up delicately, a rare softness in his expression. "Ah… these." He turned to Rose, Violet’s maid, who stood patiently nearby. "She could wear these in her hair?"

Rose nodded immediately. "Yes, Your Majesty. They’re perfect. They’ll complement her gown—black with gold embroidery—and her silver hair beautifully."

Fen placed the barrettes gently in a velvet-lined box, writing a brief note on thick parchment:

"A gift from the King of Tyrrendor. I hope you’ll wear it tonight."

He handed the box to Rose. "Take this to her."

"Yes, Your Majesty." She bowed, clutching the box carefully as she left.

With that done, Fen stretched his shoulders and made his way toward the bathroom, catching his reflection in the mirror. His beard—dark, thick, and well-kept—stared back at him. Yesterday, when Violet confronted Viscount Archibald, she had called his beard ugly.

Fen stroked his own thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes.

His aide coughed gently behind him. "Do you wish to shave, Your Majesty?"

Fen huffed a laugh. "You heard her yesterday. Violet said the Viscount’s beard was ugly."

His aide smiled slightly. "With respect, Your Majesty, I believe Miss Violet meant to ridicule the Viscount… not that she dislikes beards."

Fen chuckled. "Hmm. Well I think you are right, let’s groom it, then. And tell Xaden to groom his stubble as well. He must look perfect beside my daughter."

The aide nodded with a knowing smile. "Of course, Your Majesty, But you should be careful calling her daughter while we are here, someone might hear you and sabotage Prince's chances with Miss Violet."

Fen turned back to the mirror, fingers smoothing over his beard. He was excited—more excited than he’d been for a ball in years. He wanted to see Violet wearing the barrettes. He wanted to see Xaden and Violet dancing.

They would look good together.

-MIRA-

The late afternoon sun poured through the tall windows of Mira’s room, casting long, golden streaks across the floor. The air smelled of Jasmine and rose water from her bath, her skin scrubbed raw by well-meaning maids who had been fussing over her for hours. Her emerald green gown hung in the closet — rich satin with black embroidery weaving delicate patterns along the bodice. A gown fit for a princess.

On her vanity lay the diadem Queen Tauri had sent—a delicate, intricate thing, heavy with jewels and heavier with meaning. Another reminder of the life the Queen of Navarre has been hinting Mira to live. Another shackle. 

Mira sat before the mirror as the maids continued their work—pulling her hair into an elaborate twist, dabbing a final touch of color to her lips. But with every brush of a comb, with every pin inserted into her hair, she felt the walls closing in. The room shrank, the weight in her chest rising until she could barely breathe.

Her heart pounded. She tried to swallow it down, but it clawed at her ribs.

Breathe, Mira. Just breathe. Teine reminded her in her head.

But the diadem caught her eye again.
And then… Tait.

She could still see him in her mind. The way he had looked at her this morning, like she was something he could reclaim. As if those two years had never happened. As if he hadn't broken her when he left her in her cage.

It was suffocating. Everything was suffocating.

“Stop.” Her voice came out sharper than she intended.

The maids froze, startled. Mira stood abruptly. “Leave.”

They exchanged glances, hesitant. “My lady—”

“I said leave.”

Without another word, they gathered their things and hurried out, the door clicking softly behind them. The silence that followed was deafening.

Mira exhaled shakily, pressing her palms to her temples. The diadem glinted from the corner of her eye. She stared at it with something close to disgust. For three years, she had been in this place but today… today it felt unbearable.

She crossed the room slowly, her steps dragging, and collapsed onto her bed, curling in on herself. The tension in her chest twisted tighter, and before she could stop herself, she buried her face in the pillow. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She had thought—for a fleeting moment—that she would be free.

She had thought he would set her free.

But love wasn’t enough.

Helping Xaden pursue Violet had been easy. Violet deserved freedom. If nothing else, Mira wanted that for her sister—to break out of this suffocating palace, to live in a place where her choices were truly her own. Maybe Violet would marry Xaden. Maybe she would leave Calldyr for Tyrrendor. She'd be Queen of Tyrrendor someday. Maybe she’d get to be something Mira never could.

You can escape this palace. You will not marry the prince of Navarre. Let's leave this once your sister is safe from you mother. Teine proposed but they both knew escaping would be difficult.

Thank you Teine, do you think we can live in the isles? do you like fish? Mira tease Teine.

The door creaked open softly.

“Mira?” Violet’s voice was gentle. “Are you okay? Rose told me you asked your maids to leave…”

Mira closed her eyes. She didn’t move. “I’m not going.” Her voice was quiet.

There was a pause. Then soft footsteps. The bed dipped slightly as Violet climbed in behind her, wrapping her arms around Mira’s waist.

“Oh, Mira,” Violet whispered, hugging her tight.

It was strange — the way they lay now. Mira had always been the one to hold Violet like this. She was the protector, the comforter. Yet here they were, and for once, it was Violet holding her.

“You should go, Vi,” Mira murmured. Her voice was tired. So tired. “You’ll be late.”

But Violet just tightened her grip. “There’s still time.” A beat of silence. Then, voice low with fury, she added, “I can destroy the Viscount for what he did to you.”

Mira exhaled a soft, breathy laugh. She turned over to face her sister. Violet’s hair was beautifully done — a waterfall braid with soft curls at the ends. She looked radiant. Strong.

Mira reached out, brushing her fingers gently against Violet’s cheek. “You should get up. Your hair will be ruined.”

Violet shook her head. “If you don’t go, I won’t go.” Her voice was stubborn, unwavering. “I still don’t understand why you don’t want me to destroy him.”

Mira sighed. “I don’t think he deserves to be destroyed.” She paused. “My silence is enough.”

Violet’s eyes blazed. “You were supposed to elope. And he left you when you were going to run away together. He connived with Mom to be Viscount, and now he wants to get you back?” She shook her head, fury etched into every word. “How dare he.”

Mira smiled softly. There was something comforting about Violet’s anger—the way she burned for the people she loved.

“I was not innocent, I was using him,” Mira admitted quietly. “I loved him, Vi… but I was using him too. I wanted to get away from this place. I planned the elopement to run away from Mom, to run away from all of this. It’s not his fault he wasn’t ready.”

Violet blinked, the anger in her eyes softening into something sadder. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt you.”

Mira sighed. “No. It doesn’t.”

They lay there in silence for a moment. Mira closed her eyes, resting her forehead against Violet’s.

“You should go,” Mira whispered. “You’ll be beautiful tonight.”

“And you won’t be?” Violet shot back, her voice thick with emotion.

Mira smiled faintly. “I’m always beautiful.”

Violet laughed softly, but the sadness lingered. “Please Mira come with me. You know I hate it. I'll need you...”

Mira chuckled. “Okay.”

And for the first time that day, the weight in her chest felt just a little lighter.

“We need to get up of  we are going to be late,”

“Ten more minutes,”

“Okay,”

-BRENNAN-

The palace hummed with life. Servants bustled through the halls, arms full of flowers and fine linens, the faint scent of polish lingering in the air. Chandeliers overhead gleamed brighter than usual, candles newly replaced for the ball tonight. The vibration of preparations pulsed through the stone walls. Everyone was in a hurry — as if making the evening perfect could somehow make the entire kingdom perfect.

Brennan walked slowly through the hall, hands in his pockets, head bent slightly forward. He barely noticed the flurry of activity around him. His mind was elsewhere.

Suri had been particularly sharp this morning. She always was when she thought she had something to prove. Learning that King Fen was gifting Violet one of Tyrrendor’s prized jewels had sent her into a full storm of snide remarks and disapproving scowls. She made it sound like an insult — as if Violet were some cunning little thief who had charmed the king out of his own treasury.

Brennan had listened quietly, letting her tirade roll off him. He wasn’t surprised. Suri had always been like that — protective of power and too proud to admit when someone else deserved it.

And Violet… well, Violet had always deserved it.

He wasn’t surprised that King Fen had found a friend in her. Even as a child, adults had been drawn to Violet’s wit. She could hold a conversation with anyone, charming them with her sharp mind and the way her eyes sparkled when she made a clever point.

But it wasn’t her cleverness that lingered in his mind today. It was her strength.

Brennan had stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching as Violet eviscerated Catriona with nothing but words. How Mira stayed near but let Violet handle the nuisance. Violet hadn’t raised her voice. She hadn’t lost her temper. She had wielded her words with precision, cutting where it hurt and walking away before Catriona even realized she was bleeding. She looked like their mother when she did that—cool, controlled, utterly untouchable.

And yesterday, from the patio, he had watched Violet taunt Tait Archibald, Mira’s ex. The way she stood there, steady as stone, throwing his own cowardice back in his face… Brennan had been proud. Fiercely proud.

But something ached in his chest too.

Because it hit him then—the full weight of it—that his sisters didn’t need him.

Not anymore.

They had learned how to defend themselves. Because he hadn’t been there to do it.

Mira and Violet protected each other. They were all they had.

And as he thought back to the way Mira had walked pass with a cold smile at Tait she glanced at his hand as if say who told you could touch me, driving the knife deeper, Brennan knew it must have hurt her. He must have hurt her.

Brennan sighed as he reached the doors to the lounge. He needed to know what Tait had done to Mira—why it had broken her.

He pushed the doors open and stepped inside. Xaden was already there, lounging with his usual air of calm authority. Garrick leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed, sharp eyes tracking the room. Drake sat nearby, rolling a dagger absentmindedly between his fingers.

Brennan nodded to them as he entered, but his mind was elsewhere. His focus shifted to the man standing quietly by the fireplace—their spy. He had asked for this meeting. He needed answers.

“Well?” Brennan asked. “What did you find?”

The spy inclined his head slightly. “Tait Archibald was a distant cousin of the Viscount in Luceras. A nobleman, but his family was not wealthy. He was close friends with Crown Prince Halden—they were classmates at Basgiath Infantry. After Miss Mira was sequestered in Calldyr, they became close. They fell in love.”

Brennan’s jaw tightened. He crossed his arms. “Go on.”

“They were together for several months. They eventually planned to run away from Calldyr… to elope.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Elope?” Drake’s voice cut through the room like a blade. His eyes darkened with fury, his body going still. “She planned to elope with him?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the spy confirmed. “But on the night they were supposed to run… Tait Archibald didn’t show.”

Brennan exhaled slowly, the weight in his chest sinking lower. He could already feel Drake’s rage like a storm building in the room.

That fucking Prince is smitten with Mira.

The spy continued, “A year later, with the help of General Lilith Sorrengail, Tait Archibald was named the successor to the Viscount. After that… he began sending flowers to Miss Mira again, hoping she would give him another chance.”

Brennan clenched his fists. His mother. Of course. She had orchestrated it. Mira hadn’t stood a chance.

“Why would he think she’d take him back?” Drake’s voice was low, barely controlled. His jaw was tight, his hands flexing as if he were already imagining wrapping them around Tait’s throat.

“Power, I think,” Brennan said quietly. “Now that he has the title and power, having Mira by his side would mean my mother's support and will fortify his claim for the title and power.”

Drake let out a dark, bitter laugh. “He left her when she needed him most. Now he thinks he can just… what? Pick her up again?”

Brennan looked away. His heart ached. “She would never let him,” he said softly.

But the truth was, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough that Mira could protect herself. It wasn’t enough that Violet could rip a man to shreds with words alone.

He should have been there. He should have been the one protecting them. He should have been the shield between them and the world.

And he wasn’t.

As Brennan stood there, listening to the tension simmer in Drake’s silence, he realized something.

He could never make up for leaving. But maybe he could stand beside them now. Maybe it wasn’t too late to be their brother.

“Next topic,” Brennan’s voice was rough, his throat tight. “Why were they pulled from Basgiath?”

The spy shifted slightly, shoulders dipping as if bracing for the weight of what he was about to say. “I haven’t found anything concrete… but according to several sources, Miss Mira was pulled out after her fourth assassination attempt.”

Brennan’s eyes flicked up sharply. “Fourth?”

“Yes,” the spy confirmed. “And Miss Violet was pulled after her first. But there are… rumors.”

Brennan exhaled slowly. “What kind of rumors?”

The spy hesitated. “From what I gathered, professors and leadership at Basgiath believed those were not assassination attempts… they were abduction attempts.”

The words hit him like a fist to the chest.

Abduction.

The room fell deathly quiet.

Brennan’s pulse pounded in his ears, heat crawling up his spine. His chest burned — hot, angry, helpless.

Someone wanted to abduct his sisters.

Drake’s expression darkened beside him, jaw clenched so tight Brennan swore he could hear his teeth grinding. Xaden’s posture shifted, the calm, composed mask he usually wore now rigid with tension.

“Do they have proof?” Xaden asked, voice low.

The spy shook his head. “Not concrete proof. But there were… patterns. Miss Mira’s ‘assassination attempts’ were focused on disarming her, not killing her. If it had truly been an assassination, wouldn’t the attempt be to kill her immediately?”

Brennan’s hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. He barely felt it.

The spy continued, voice steady despite the weight of his words. “The fourth attempt is particularly telling. They managed to subdue Miss Mira and remove her from the college grounds. They almost succeeded… but her squad mates and dragon, Teine, intervened.”

Brennan’s breath caught in his throat. They took her. They dragged her off school grounds.

He thought of Mira — fierce, unshakable Mira — fighting tooth and nail, only to be overpowered. He imagined her rage, her desperation as they pulled her away. The image made his blood boil.

Abduction or assassination… which is worse? He wasn’t sure he knew the answer.

“And Violet? What happen on the first incident?” Xaden’s voice was rough now. Brennan could hear the fury beneath it, barely leashed.

The spy’s expression darkened. “Miss Violet had a… stalker. A cadet named Jack Barlowe.”

Brennan’s head snapped up. “A stalker?”

“Yes. Barlowe was infatuated with her. He bullied her, most believe it was to get her attention. He constantly challenged her to spar… most likely as an excuse to touch her.”

Brennan exhaled sharply, jaw clenching. His stomach churned at the thought.

“Luckily,” the spy continued, “Professor Emetterio noticed his intentions and refused to allow them to spar. He reported it to the General.”

The spy went on. “During War Games… Jack Barlowe attempted to abduct or kill Miss Violet, it was not successful but all evidence and rumors about how she manage to escape was redacted on the files. He is dead now, his exact intentions remain unclear.”

Brennan’s breath left him in a rush.

Violet.

The image of his little sister flashed in his mind — wide-eyed and small, with scraped knees and stubborn pride. She had always been the smallest, the gentlest… and yet, she had learned to be sharp. She had learned to wield her words like a blade. She had learned to survive.

Because he wasn’t there to protect her.

“I don’t know which is worse,” Brennan admitted quietly, voice rough with emotion. “The thought that someone wanted them dead… or that someone wanted to take them.”

His chest tightened painfully. The guilt was suffocating. Somehow he could understand why his mom would want Mira and Violet close to her.

For the war. He had left, and they had learned to survive without him.

But survival wasn’t the same as safety.

“Do you think the man who tried grabbed Mira last time and these attempts were connected?” Garrick asked

“There are no evidence to it as we are still searching for the man, but if they are I think they are getting desperate, trying to grab her in broad daylight,”

Drake pushed off the couch, pacing to the window. His hands flexed at his sides, as if he were imagining wrapping them around someone’s throat. His throat worked as he swallowed hard.

“They tried to take her,” Drake said quietly. “They tried to take Mira.”

Brennan looked away, the weight of it sinking deeper. “And Violet,” Garrick said.  “What if they are venin?”

Xaden exhaled slowly. “Do you know if Barlowe was working with those who tried to take Mira? And the possibility that he was a venin?”

The spy shook his head. “Not yet. But I’ll keep digging.”

“Dig faster,” Drake snapped, voice sharp with fury.

Brennan ran a hand down his face, the weight in his chest unbearable.

He should have been there.
He should have been there.

But he wasn’t.

And now?

Now, he would burn the world down before he let it happen again.

Chapter Text

-DRAKE-

Drake exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the marble sink. His reflection stared back at him, but all he could think was her—Mira.

Someone tried to abduct her. Abduct.

The word pulsed in his mind, his blood pounding in his ears. She hadn’t just been sequestered in Calldyr for protection; she had been caged. Locked away, suffocating under her mother's security because some bastard had tried to steal her from her life. She should be a remarkable rider by now instead she was here playing politics.

And she hated it. She resented her mother so much that she had planned to run away—with Tait Archibald.

Drake’s hands curled into fists at his sides. Tait Archibald. A nobody. A man with no real title, no real power… no spine. He had left her.

Now, years later, with his newfound title and influence, that fool wanted her back.

No can do.

Drake’s jaw clenched, rage simmering low in his chest. He wanted to put his fist through the nearest wall—or better yet, through the Viscount’s face. He wanted to find whoever had tried to take Mira three years ago and rip them apart with his bare hands.

But he didn’t have time for murderous thoughts right now.

Not tonight.

Drake took another deep breath, forcing the tension from his shoulders. He turned back to the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his dark green, almost-black double-breasted tuxedo. The fabric fit him perfectly, handpicked by his mother, Queen Maraya, herself. Gold medals adorned his chest—symbols of honor, strength, and status as the Crown Prince of Poromiel.

He smoothed a hand over his lapel, exhaling. He had to focus. The ball required his presence, his charm, his composure.

He left his room and walked down the grand halls to his mother’s chambers. When he knocked and stepped inside, she was already waiting, standing tall and elegant in a long-sleeved cream tulle gown. The delicate fabric shimmered under the soft candlelight, giving her the appearance of a queen carved from light.

She looked up at him and smiled, warmth in her eyes. “You look dashing, my prince.”

Drake’s lips lifted slightly. “And you look gorgeous, Mother.” He extended his arm. “Shall we?” She placed her hand on his arm, and together they walked toward the grand hall.

The sound of music and muted conversation buzzed beyond the grand double doors. The hall vibrated with energy — the shifting of gowns, the clink of crystal glasses, and the ever-present hum of politics woven into every greeting.

As they reached the entrance, the butler's voice boomed through the hall.

“Presenting… King and Queen Tauri with sons Crown Prince Halden, Prince Alic, and Prince Cam Tauri of Navarre.”

Drake stood tall, watching as Halden and his family descended the grand stairs to polite applause. The crown prince wore his familiar bored smile. After the Tauri's it was Drake and his mom's turn to be presented.

“Presenting Queen Maraya and Crown Prince Drake of Poromiel.”

The room shifted as all eyes turned to them. Drake straightened, guiding his mother forward with practiced ease. They descended the grand staircase, the weight of hundreds of gazes settling on them.

He barely felt it. His eyes swept the crowd—searching.

The hall was decorated lavishly, with crystal chandeliers casting a golden glow over the room. Nobles and dignitaries gathered in clusters, laughter and conversation filling the space. But none of it mattered.

He was looking for her.

He spotted their friends first. Then her friends Rhiannon. Sawyer. Ridoc. Vince. Kael.

No Mira.

His gaze flicked to the General’s table. Lilith Sorrengail stood at the head, formidable as ever… but no Mira. No Violet.

His stomach sank.

The butler’s voice boomed again announcing King Fen and Xaden's presence. 

Drake barely looked back. His focus was elsewhere.

Is she with the Viscount?

He scanned the crowd again, heart pounding harder now. Then he found him.

The Viscount sat at one of the noble’s tables, sipping from a crystal glass, all self-assured arrogance. Drake’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Of course, he was here.

Drake's chest tightened. His pulse hammered in his ears. But where is Mira?

He forced a breath, his gaze sweeping the room again. Nothing.

His jaw clenched. His chest burned with worry—with something deeper.

-XADEN-

The butler’s voice echoed through the grand hall.

"Presenting King Fen and Crown Prince Xaden of Tyrrendor.”

Xaden adjusted the cuffs of his black tuxedo coat as he descended the grand stairs beside his father. The weight of the gold medals across his chest was nothing compared to the weight pressing against his ribs. His gaze swept the crowd, barely noticing the lavish decor, the glittering chandeliers, or the sea of nobles watching their every step.

He was looking for her. For his Violet.

And she wasn’t there.

That afternoon, when he found out about Jack Barlowe—an insufferable stalker who had been lurking around her a Basgaith, bullying her just to get her attention—he had nearly lost it. His rage had been so sharp, so sudden, it burned through him like dragon fire.

And now, knowing that was why she had been sent to Calldyr… knowing she had been hunted but that fucker… good that he was dead now or else Xaden would have not rest until he kills him himself.

Xaden clenched his jaw, forcing his expression to remain neutral as they reached the floor. His father, King Fen, stood tall beside him, his gaze scanning the room as well.

"Where is Violet?" his father muttered low, barely moving his lips.

Even he had noticed. As royals, they were presented last. Violet and Mira should have been here already.

Xaden nodded to a few nobles out of politeness, but his mind was elsewhere. He sat down at Tyrrendor’s table with his father, his gaze sliding across the room to where Drake sat with his mother at Poromiel’s table.

Drake caught his eye.

Xaden raised a questioning brow—Have you seen them?

Drake’s expression was grim. He shook his head once.

No Mira. No Violet.

Xaden's stomach dropped.

"Where are you, Violet?"

The longer they sat there, the heavier the weight in his chest grew. After the formal pleasantries and opening speeches, King Tauri finally stood to welcome the crowd officially. He spoke with his usual grandeur, his voice carrying easily through the hall.

“…and now, to serenade us this evening, I present to you—”

Xaden barely listened. He watched the band take the stage—two male singers around Brennan’s age. The room buzzed with anticipation, but something shifted beside him.

Across the table, Brennan stiffened, his hand tightening around his glass. Xaden caught the change immediately.

“They’re from my old squad,” Brennan murmured under his breath, low enough for only their table to hear.

Xaden’s eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze flicked back to the two singers—but they weren’t singing. They stood there, looking toward the grand staircase…

And then one of them said it. “Oh no, Sorrengails… I can see you two.”

Immediately, the crowd stirred. Heads turned. Murmurs rippled through the hall. Xaden’s breath hitched as his gaze snapped to the top of the stairs—and there they were.

Mira and Violet.

They were sneaking into the ball, avoiding getting presented or were they late?

The two singers grinned as they approached the stairs. Or course if they are Brennan's old squad then they knew the sisters. Music swelled around them, and the crowd’s attention shifted fully to the grand staircase.

One of the singers turned to the room, his voice carrying as he made the announcement.

“It is our honor to present our adopted sisters Mira and Violet Sorrengail!”

His eyes were locked on Violet. She stepped forward, descending the grand staircase—and he forgot how to breathe.

She was wearing a black gown, elegant and sleek, the fabric shimmering subtly under the chandeliers. Gold embroidery traced the top of the dress in the shape of wings, curving up along her shoulders. Her dress compliments her dragon relic—relics, a black dragon mid-flight that stretches from her shoulder to shoulder with a silhouette of a golden, shimmering dragon in the center. Her hair was loose but styled, in a loose braid, framing her face.  Two gold barrettes pinned on each side of her hair.

He knew those barrettes. They were Riorson family jewels—Tyrrendor jewels.

Xaden's chest tightened, heat burning low in his stomach. He didn’t even realize he was gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.

She’s wearing my grandmother's barrettes. As if she belonged to him.

As if she had always belonged to him.

The singers reached the girls at the base of the stairs, launching into a song about beautiful, independent women. The music filled the hall, but Xaden barely heard it.

All he could see was her.

And all he could think was—

Mine.

-DRAKE-

Drake barely heard the music. Barely registered the two singers escorting Mira and Violet down the grand staircase. The moment he saw her, the rest of the room faded away.

Mira Sorrengail.

She was smiling—the kind of smile that lit her entire face, warm and confident. She looked so comfortable with the two singers, murmuring softly as if this were any other night. As if she hadn’t just walked into a room full of nobles and dignitaries, all watching her.

Drake couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Her golden-brown hair curled softly, framing her small, confident face. Her eyes were bright with amusement as she descended the stairs, the emerald green satin of her off-shoulder gown catching the light. The black gems embroidered on the bodice curved elegantly, hugging her waist perfectly, and as she moved, the high slit on her left leg revealed the long, toned line of her leg.

And that’s when he saw it.

A silver dagger strapped delicately to her thigh. Small gemstones glittered on the hilt—a familiar design.

Drake’s breath hitched. It was his mother’s dagger, that was a match to his father's sword that now belongs to Drake.

He blinked, glancing sharply toward Queen Maraya. She was already watching him, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

She winked.

Drake exhaled through his nose, biting down a smile.

He looked back at Mira. She was still descending the stairs, the crowd parting slightly as they reached the bottom. The two singers led Mira and Violet toward their table near the Tauri’s, and Drake’s chest tightened as he traced her every step.

Beautiful.

Lethal.

Mine.

Halden Tauri was already rising from his seat, cutting through the crowd smoothly. He reached the sisters with two glasses of champagne in hand, offering one to each of them. They both accepted, smiling politely, he murmured something to them and both nodded.

Halden lifted his glass his voice carried through the grand hall. “To the success of this summit,” he said. “And to peace across the continent.”

The room echoed with the soft clink of glasses. Mira smiled at him proudly—the kind of smile she always had when she looked at Halden. Drake felt the familiar twinge of annoyance in his chest… but it vanished the moment Mira stepped forward.

And as if on cue, she repeated the exact same speech.

In Krovish.

Her voice was smooth and clear, carrying effortlessly through the hall. Her words rippled with elegance, commanding attention—and it was the way she raised her glass toward Queen Maraya that sent goosebumps racing down Drake’s spine.

Pride bloomed in his chest. He couldn’t help but grin.

His mother stood from her seat, nodding with a warm, approving smile. She answered in Krovish, her voice just as regal and steady, acknowledging Mira’s words.

Drake exhaled slowly.

Gods. She wasn’t just beautiful. She wasn’t just the woman who kept him awake at night, filling his thoughts.

And as he watched her across the room, standing tall and confident, raising her glass with that small, knowing smile —

She wasn’t just his.

She was a queen.

His queen.

-XADEN-

Xaden’s breath caught as Mira’s voice echoed across the grand hall in flawless Krovish. The confidence in her tone, the way she held herself with regal poise — it was impressive, but he wasn’t surprised. Mira was always full of surprises.

But it was the way she turned to Violet that had his heart racing.

Violet stepped forward, raising her glass. Her eyes met Xaden’s for two beats, a small, knowing smirk pulling at the corner of her lips — one that made his chest tighten. Then she looked out at the crowd, repeating the same speech in Tyrish.

Perfectly.

Xaden stood a little taller, heat curling low in his chest. He barely noticed how the room fell into a hush as Violet’s voice rang clear and steady. She sounded… powerful. Like she belonged here, standing among kings and queens.

His heart pounded as he watched her.

Gods, she’s incredible.

Beside him, Garrick let out a low murmur. “I swear I felt goosebumps all over my body.”

Xaden smirked. He couldn’t help it. Yeah, well… that’s my girl, Garrick.

The crowd erupted with salute to peace as glasses lifted high. Xaden raised his own, his gaze never leaving Violet. He caught a glance toward Brennan—heavily disguised with glamour, standing quietly. He had a slight smile tugging at his lips, pride shining in his eyes.

Suri, on the other hand, looked dumbfounded. Mouth slightly open, blinking like she couldn’t believe what she just saw. Xaden had to fight the urge to laugh.

As the applause died down and the ball resumed, guests began taking their seats for dinner. The soft hum of conversation filled the room, but Xaden could barely focus.

He couldn’t stop stealing glances at Violet.

She sat at her table with Tauri's, laughing lightly as she spoke to someone beside her. Her hair shimmered under the soft lights, the gold embroidery of her gown catching every flicker of movement. She looked… radiant.

But Xaden’s attention shifted when he noticed Alic Tauri leaning in, saying something to her.

Xaden’s jaw tensed.

He watched as Violet smiled—not the smile she gives me—but it still tugged at something sharp in his chest. Alic said something else, and Violet tilted her head, laughing softly.

Xaden narrowed his eyes slightly. Do they look like they’re just friends?

He took another sip of his drink, slow and measured. How does Alic look at her?

He watched carefully. Alic wasn’t being too obvious—just leaning in, casually attentive. His eyes were on her, though. Focused. He wasn’t just being polite.

Xaden’s fingers curled lightly around his glass. Jealousy coiled low in his chest, hot and unwelcome.

But then Violet glanced across the room, her gaze flicking to Xaden’s for half a second—just long enough for him to see the amusement dancing in her eyes.

And in that moment, he knew. Alic was messing with him and she knows exactly what she’s doing.

Xaden exhaled a soft, breathless laugh, shaking his head. Oh, my little menace.

By the time the last course was served, Xaden could barely sit still.

The hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware filled the grand hall, but it all blurred into background noise. His focus stayed locked on her.

She sat at her table, poised and polite, but he could tell she hadn’t eaten much. Instead, she spent most of dinner engaging with people who hovered like moths to a flame—men and women alike, enchanted by her sharp wit and disarming smile.

And yet, she looked flawless. Not a hint of exhaustion, despite the nonstop small talk. Her laughter floated through the room in soft bursts, and Xaden found himself mesmerized by the way her eyes shone in the warm light.

He wasn’t the only one. He’d seen the way some of the men at nearby tables watched her—as if they were counting down the minutes until they could ask her to dance.

But they wouldn’t get the chance. Not tonight.

As soon as dinner ended, Xaden pushed back his chair, ready to close the distance. He was going to be the first to ask her.

But of course, the universe had other plans.

“Your Highness,” a voice called.

Xaden turned, barely biting back a groan as a man dressed like a count stepped in front of him, smiling far too eagerly. A young woman stood beside him, flushed pink and blinking up at Xaden.

Not again…

The man puffed out his chest slightly. “I’d like to introduce my daughter—”

Xaden forced a polite smile. He exchanged pleasantries, shaking hands and nodding at the appropriate moments, but his focus kept slipping. He glanced past them toward Violet.

She was talking to Ridoc and Rhi now, laughing at something Ridoc said. Then Sawyer approached, escorting a woman in a flowing white gown. Xaden didn’t recognize her, but Violet did—she immediately smiled and pulled the woman in for a hug.

Then they started signing.

Xaden’s brow lifted slightly. She knows how to sign too?

His chest tightened. She was smart, sharp-tongued, and dangerous. She knew how to charm a room without even trying. No wonder she had a stalker.

“Your Highness?” The man coughed lightly.

Xaden blinked, realizing he hadn’t been listening. “Apologies,”

Xaden weaved through the crowd with a purpose, brushing past another woman approaching him with a flirtatious smile. He barely noticed her. All his attention zeroed in on Violet.

She stood near Sawyer and the others, laughing softly at something Rhi said. The golden light of the grand hall caught the gold metallic embroidery on her gown, making the wing details shimmer. But it wasn’t just the dress—it was her. Fierce. Beautiful. Effortless.

And completely unaware of the way she made his pulse hammer in his chest.

“Violence,” he called smoothly when he finally reached her.

She glanced up, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Yes?”

“I believe you owe me a dance,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Since we were interrupted last time.”

Her brow lifted. “Do I?”

She hesitated for a beat—long enough to make his heart stumble—before slipping her hand into his. Her fingers fit perfectly against his palm, soft and warm.

“Well, far be it from me to deny a prince,” she teased as he led her toward the dance floor.

Xaden chuckled under his breath. “I thought you are going to torment me by avoiding me tonight.”

She laughed softly at that. “You seemed traumatize.”

As the music swelled, he pulled her closer, one hand resting lightly on her waist. They moved effortlessly, falling into step as if they’d been dancing together their entire lives.

“You said, you weren't avoiding me,” he said.

“Oh, did I,” she shot back. “Can't remember.”

“Don't do it again.”

Xaden spun Violet smoothly across the ballroom floor, his hand firm on her waist, the other clasping hers. The mage lights shimmered overhead, reflecting off the diamonds in her hair — his grandmother’s barrette. She looked stunning. Absolutely breathtaking.

She was looking past him, her gaze sharp and focused on someone in the crowd.

Xaden glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch the sour expression on the Viscount’s face. He almost laughed. Almost.

When he turned back, Violet’s lips were curled into a smug little smile—the kind that meant she was planning something.

She nodded at someone behind him. Xaden didn’t bother looking this time. He knew better. If she was involved, it was bound to be something amusing.

"You’re up to something," he murmured.

Violet’s eyes sparkled as she turned her attention back to him. "Who? Me?"

The mage lights dimmed suddenly, the music shifting to something slower… softer. More intimate.

Xaden pulled her closer without thinking. His hand pressed gently against her lower back now, her chest brushing his.

"You’re beautiful," he said quietly. "Even more when you look vengeful like that."

Violet smirked. "Tell me something I don’t know."

He grinned. "You look hot when you taunt the Viscount."

She laughed softly under her breath. "Really?"

"Really."

Violet’s smirk widened. "You haven’t seen anything yet."

Her words sending shivers down his spine, the diamonds in her barrette caught the light, shimmering like stars.

"My grandmother’s barrette looks good on you," Xaden said.

He caught the way her cheeks flushed faintly pink before she tilted her head slightly, brushing it off.

"Oh, it was your grandmother’s?" she said casually. "I was going to return it, but… well… the king would make that pouty face again."

Xaden blinked. "What pouty face?"

"You know the one he does when he acts like a lost puppy."

Xaden frowned. "No way. My dad doesn’t do a pouty face."

Violet’s grin widened. "Really? He doesn’t do that to you?"

"No."

Violet raised a brow as if to say he does that to me all the time. And as if they’d conjured him with sheer willpower, King Fen approached, his steps light and easy as he stopped beside them.

"Son, Can I have a dance with Violet?" the king asked. "You two have been dancing for five songs already."

Xaden froze. Five songs? He blinked, looking down at Violet. She looked just as surprised as he felt.

"Five?" she repeated.

"I… didn’t realize," Xaden admitted.

Violet smiled. "Well, my mom said one dance and I could leave…"

And then it happened.

King Fen’s expression shifted—eyes softening, lips curving downward just slightly. That hurt, disappointed look… like a puppy left out in the rain.

Xaden’s jaw dropped.

Violet looked at him knowingly, eyebrows raised. "See? Pouty face."

Xaden stared. He’d never seen his father look like that. Ever.

"Unbelievable," Xaden muttered.

Violet’s laugh was soft and warm. "Told you."

And gods help him… He was starting to get addicted to that laugh.

"Fine! I'll dance with you, Your Majesty," Violet said with a playful sigh. His father's face lighten up instantly.

Xaden exhaled, reluctantly letting her hand slip from his grasp as he entrusted it to his father. His fingers tingled where they’d touched—as if they didn’t quite want to let go. He watched as they drifted onto the floor, the lights casting a golden glow over them.

Liam appeared at his side, handing him a glass of something dark and strong. "Looks like your father’s fallen for Violet too."

Xaden snorted softly. "Yeah… you saw the barrettes?"

"Hard to miss. Those things' basically a crown," Liam said, smirking.

They watched the dance floor in comfortable silence for a beat, the music humming low and sweet.

"Suri’s been in a sour mood all night," Liam added after a moment. "Her Tyrish was good, though, huh?"

Xaden arched a brow. "Good? She spoke it perfectly. I didn’t even know she could."

Liam chuckled. "Yeah, I was surprised too. I tested it once — spoke to her in Tyrish just to see. She answered fluently."

"You knew?" Xaden whipped his head toward him. "And you didn’t tell me?"

Liam shrugged with an infuriatingly casual grin. "Wanted to see your face when you found out yourself."

Xaden narrowed his eyes. "You’re an ass."

"And yet you keep me around," Liam shot back smoothly. "Anyway, I heard from Garrick you’re planning a date with Violet."

Xaden nearly choked on his drink. "Don’t talk about me behind my back!"

Liam laughed outright. "Come on. Garrick’s the gossip, not me."

"Yeah, well, you’re enabling him."

Liam grinned. "Fair. But listen… I heard she’s been wanting to go to the night market in the city square. It’s open every Saturday night."

Xaden tilted his head, interest sparking. "The night market?"

"Yeah. And tonight might be the perfect night to sneak out — everyone’s too preoccupied to notice." Liam leaned in slightly. "If you are think about those who want to abduct her, no one would expect to look for her outside the palace."

Liam was right, tonight made perfect sense Xaden was going to thank Liam when Mira appeared on his other side, as calm and composed as ever. She gave him a quick once-over, then leaned in closer, lowering her voice.

"Just take her bodyguard, though. Extra protection never hurts. Good luck, lover boy."

Xaden blinked. "Wait—"

But Mira was already walking away, heading toward her other friends with a knowing smile.

Xaden exhaled slowly, He wasn’t sure why Mira had been helping him lately… but he was thankful.

-DRAKE-

Drake barely heard Violet's voice as she finished her speech in flawless Tyrish. The crowd applauded, but his attention wasn’t on Violet or the toast for peace.

It was on Mira.

She wasn’t looking at Violet or the crowd. She wasn’t even looking at him. No, Mira’s gaze was fixed on Suri — with a slow, menacing smile that sent a shiver down his spine.

And Suri? She looked dumbfounded. As she should.

Yes, Suri, t hey understood every word you uttered during the meetings.

Drake felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward in satisfaction. He could almost feel Suri’s panic from where he sat. Good.

But his smugness faded as the ball resumed, dinner being served, and Drake found himself stealing glance after glance at Mira. He watched the way she spoke politely to those around her, how she took small, measured bites of her food. She laughed in all the right places, nodded with perfect poise — and yet…

Something was off.

There was a distant look in her eyes, one she quickly masked whenever someone spoke to her. Most people wouldn’t notice it.

But Drake wasn’t most people.

She looked uncomfortable.

And Mira Sorrengail was never uncomfortable.

His jaw clenched.

He shifted his gaze, scanning the room until he found Tait Archibald, lingering near the edge of the ballroom. His wine glass dangled carelessly from his fingers, but his eyes… they were locked on Mira.

Drake's grip tightened around his own glass. That fucker.

It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed Tait looking at her tonight. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed anyone looking at her tonight. But something about the way Tait watched her… it set his teeth on edge. He was making her uncomfortable.

Mira pretended not to notice. She kept that poised, unshakable demeanor, continued to smile and nod through every conversation, every pleasantry, as if nothing was wrong—She was so damn strong.

And it killed him.

When dinner finally ended, the ballroom flooded with movement. People stood, swarming the room, eager to greet and mingle. Mira was surrounded within seconds—a line of men waiting to shake her hand, to make conversation, to catch her eye. She handled it gracefully, like she always did, but Drake could see the tension in her shoulders.

She didn’t want to be there.

And every bone in his body was screaming at him to reach her. To get her away from all of it. To get her somewhere alone, where she could breathe. Where she didn’t have to be strong.

But he couldn’t move.

Because he was surrounded too—a small circle of women hoping for a dance, bashing their lashes on him, each one more persistent than the last. He barely heard a word they said. His focus stayed on Mira, his heart pounding faster the longer he watched.

Every bone in his body longed to be near her. He needed to get to her.

"Drake."

He turned sharply to find his mother, Queen Maraya, standing beside him with two glasses of wine in hand. She offered him one with a knowing smile. "I’m stealing him for a moment, ladies."

The women murmured their goodbyes and dispersed reluctantly.

Drake exhaled slowly, accepting the glass. "Thanks for the save."

"Poor girls," Maraya said with a light laugh. "Hoping to get my son’s attention… but he only has eyes for one woman."

Drake nearly choked on his drink. "I—what?"

"Oh, please," she teased, smirking over the rim of her glass. "A mother would know."

He flushed. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the way his mother looked so damn smug, but suddenly, he was fifteen again, getting caught sneaking glances at a girl across the training yard.

"You gave her your dagger," he said, desperate to shift the conversation.

Maraya’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "We sparred last night. She won. I gave her the dagger."

Drake blinked. "You sparred with her?"

"Yes."

"And she beat you?"

Maraya laughed softly. "She was really good on the mat and earlier tonight she was—"

"Magnificent," Drake finished for her.

His mother smiled, pressing her hand to his cheek for a brief second. "So… are you going to ask her to dance, or are you going to stand here blushing all night?"

Drake swallowed hard. He wanted to. He wanted to more than anything. But what if she rejected him? What if she brushed him off with another glare, like she always did? 

Maraya pushed him gently. "Go, Drake. Ask her."

He exhaled slowly. His heart was pounding. His hands were sweating. But he nodded.

Mira was still surrounded by people — still smiling, still perfect — but the moment Cam caught sight of him approaching, he clapped Drake on the shoulder. "Drake!" he greeted loudly.

Mira turned at the sound of his name.

For a moment, she just looked at him. And then, with the smallest of smiles, she said, "You look cute."

And just like that—wild and untamed—like it had a mind of its own.

His heart went fucking dancing.

He stood there for a beat too long, watching her from a few feet away. She was still talking to Halden, nodding politely as if she wasn’t driving him absolutely insane. She looked stunning in that emerald-green gown, the satin catching the light with every small shift of her body. The high slit revealed a glimpse of her long, toned leg, but it was the dagger strapped to her ankle that made his pulse spike again.

It has a matching sword that belongs to Drake. It made her look like mine.

He felt a clap on his shoulder and turned slightly to see Cam grinning at him. "Go on," Cam murmured under his breath. "Before someone else does."

Drake exhaled, steadying himself as he crossed the final few steps. Mira didn’t turn immediately, but he could feel the shift when she finally noticed him. Her shoulders straightened slightly, her head tilting just enough to let him know she was aware of his approach.

And then, as if it was the most casual thing in the world, she looked at him again.

"Your Highness," she greeted smoothly. Her smile was small but warm, her eyes glinting with something he couldn’t quite place. "Back for another compliment?"

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "I think I’ve met my quota for the night, Vicious."

"Shame," she teased. "I had a few more lined up."

"Did you now?"

She shrugged, taking a slow sip of her champagne. "Maybe."

Drake felt himself grin. "And what would it take to hear them?"

Mira arched a brow. "Why do you assume you deserve them?"

"Because I’m about to ask you to dance," he said, surprising even himself with the sudden boldness. "And if you say yes… well, I’d say that deserves at least one more compliment."

Mira’s eyes flicked to his hand as he offered it. For a moment, she just stared at it — long enough to make his heart trip over itself again.

Then, with a small, knowing smile, she sighed. "Fine," she said, placing her hand in his. "But only because I my mother has to see me dance twice and then I could leave."

"Wow," he deadpanned. "And here I thought this was my charming personality winning you over."

She laughed softly as he led her onto the dance floor. "Trust me—if it were your personality, you’d still be standing there."

He shook his head, biting back a smile. "You’re brutal."

"I’m honest," she corrected.

As they fell into step with the music, Drake realized something strange — dancing with her felt… easy. Natural. Like they had done it a hundred times before.

But they hadn’t.

And maybe that’s why his heart wouldn’t calm down.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said quietly after a beat.

Mira tilted her head slightly. "I know."

He laughed softly. "Of course you do."

Her lips twitched. "But… thank you."

They danced in silence for a few moments, the world around them blurring into soft light and muted conversations. He could feel the warmth of her hand in his, the steady rhythm of her breathing.

"You seemed uncomfortable during dinner," he said finally. "Something wrong?"

Mira’s gaze flicked up to him, something guarded slipping behind her eyes. "Nothing I can’t handle."

He nodded. "I know. But you don’t always have to handle it alone."

Her expression softened — just a little. "I know."

And for once, she didn’t argue.

As the song continued, Drake found himself hoping the night would never end. He wasn’t just watching Mira from a distance.

He was holding her, and he wasn’t ready to let go.

Chapter Text

-MIRA-

Mira let out a slow breath as she moved in time with the music, her hand clasped in Drake’s, his other resting warm against her back. The room spun lazily around them—the glittering gowns, the polished armor, the soft glow of mage lights above. But Mira barely noticed any of it.

She felt lighter.

Only Violet or Teine could make her feel this way—as if she could breathe. As if the weight of expectation, of duty, of holding everyone else’s burdens, wasn’t quite so heavy.

But this time, it wasn’t them. It was him.

Drake Cordella, the dashing— but pesky—prince of Poromiel.

Uhm, the flier prince made you feel lighter... huh?  Teine comments on their bond.

She’d felt uncomfortable during dinner, as if a hundred eyes were drilling holes into her back. Queen Tauri’s gaze had been the worst of them—questioning, expectant. Mira hadn’t worn the diadem the queen had given her, and she knew Tauri had noticed. Of course she had.

And then there was Tait Archibald.

Mira’s spine stiffened slightly at the memory. She could feel his eyes on her, always lurking at the edges of the room, watching. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl, but she kept her head high, her mask firmly in place.

No one could know that inside, she was barely holding it together.

By the time dinner ended, it was as if a signal had gone out. Noble men and women swarmed around her—eager smiles, empty compliments. Thank the gods for Halden. He’d shifted the conversation with ease, deflecting attention away from her when it got to be too much.

And then she’d seen him.

Drake Cordella in his deep green tuxedo adorn with gold medals, his dark brown hair pushed back, he smiles as soon as he seen her genuinely—charmingly, that smile made her feel lighter.

He looked… gods, he looked good.

Dashing. Charming. The kind of handsome that left women breathless. She’d told him he looked cute before she could stop herself—a thought spoken aloud without permission—and she had to quickly brush it off to keep herself from smiling at him.

Especially when she saw him blush.

But now, as they danced, she was hyper-aware of him. Of the heat of his hand on her back, the solid strength of him. He wasn’t blushing anymore.

No—now, he was all calm intensity.

The song ended. Mira let out a breath, ready to pull away.

But Drake just smiled slightly, twirling her once before smoothly pulling her back in.

The next song started without pause.

Her brows lifted. "Again?"

He shrugged casually, though the corner of his mouth curved upward. "You had to dance twice, it does not have to be with a different man,"

She tilted her head, arching a brow. "It does not have to be the same man as well."

She was going to dance with Halden then maybe one of the Tyrrendor boys any one from the delegates but this dangerously dashing prince but since he asked first and he looked good tonight, she accepted.

Drake’s eyes flicked to hers—dark, steady, unreadable. 

What is wrong with him? 

When he did not answer her heart beat a little faster. She couldn’t help the soft, amused huff that escaped her lips. "You are being vague and mysterious, tonight."

He smiled at that, and gods help her—it made her stomach flip.

The second song ended, and Mira started to pull back again. But then the mage lights dimmed, and the next song…

It was slower. More intimate.

Her breath caught as Drake gently took her other hand and placed it against his chest.

Both of his hands settled on her lower back now, holding her closer. Mira’s pulse jumped under his touch.

"Twice wasn’t enough?" she asked again, voice softer this time.

Drake’s lips curved. "No. I'm sending a message."

Her brows lifted. "Message to who?"

He shrugged slightly. "To your ex, to everyone else."

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Which is?"

He held her gaze. His eyes flicked down to her lips, just for a second, before lifting back to hers.

"You are off limits," he said softly.

Mira’s breath caught. She should have laughed. Glared at him. Teased him. Brushed it off with a witty remark, like she always did.

But she didn’t.

Because there was something in his eyes—something warm, something steady—that made her heart stutter in her chest. 

This one is territorial... Teine hums.

Drake’s lips curved upward slightly. "Now, she is speechless."

And just like that her walls cracked.

Just a little. 

-VIOLET-

Violet swayed gently to the rhythm of the music, her hand resting lightly in King Fen’s. His other hand was firm yet gentle at her waist, guiding her effortlessly across the floor. The warmth of the mage lights bathed them in a soft, golden glow, but it was the warmth in her chest that held her attention.

She felt… safe. Warm. The way she used to feel when her father would spin her around the garden during the summer festivals.

She missed him so much it ached.

When she’d first met King Fen in the library—when he was waiting for Xaden, who never showed—she’d felt a pang of sympathy. Xaden didn’t realize how lucky he was. He still had his father. Violet would give anything to have another moment with hers.

Now, as she danced with Fen, the King of Tyrrendor, she found herself wishing the moment could stretch just a little longer. He smiled down at her, his eyes kind and warm.

"I knew the barrettes would look good on you," he said gently. "Also your speech in Tyrish was impeccable."

Violet smiled softly. "I'm honored, Your Majesty, Did you see the look on Suri's face? I almost laughed."

Fen chuckled, a deep, warm sound. "Yes. She was so dumbfounded I thought she might pass out."

"I know, right?" Violet’s grin widened. "I couldn’t forget how she called Mira and me spoiled brats."

Fen shook his head lightly. "Forgive her, Violet. She’s just an old maid."

Violet’s smirk remained. "Oh, don’t worry. Mira and I were pretty satisfied with the look on her face earlier."

Fen laughed again, his eyes sparkling. "Why were you and your sister late earlier? I was worried."

Violet sighed. "Mira was having a hard time getting ready. I stayed to help her. We were trying to sneak in without drawing attention… but those singers were from my brother's old squad. They knew us right away." She shook her head lightly. "I’d rather be in the shadows, to be honest."

Fen raised a brow. "Well Xaden might help you with that but Violet… you can’t escape the spotlight when you’re a beacon."

Violet frowned slightly. "I don’t know what you mean by that."

Fen smiled knowingly but didn’t elaborate. As the song ended, he gently led her toward the edge of the dance floor. Xaden was standing there with Liam, holding a glass in his hand and watching her with that familiar, unreadable expression.

When Fen placed her hand in Xaden’s, the warmth in her chest shifted… turning electric.

Xaden’s lips curved into a slow, familiar smirk. "Finally. Are you ready to go, Violence?"

Violet blinked, surprised. "Go? Where?"

Xaden's grin widened. "Our date."

"Right now?"

"Yes, I got an approval from Mira."

Her heart skipped a beat. Surprise flickered through her, followed quickly by excitement.

He’d planned something and Mira approved it.

And gods help her… she couldn’t wait to find out what.

-XADEN-

The cool night air wrapped around them as Xaden led Violet through the palace courtyard toward the carriages. His heart pounded harder than it should. It was ridiculous—he’d never been this nervous with anyone else. But with Violet… he wanted everything to be perfect.

He could see the excitement dancing in her eyes, the way her lips curved slightly, as though she could barely keep herself from grinning.

"We're going outside?" she asked, her voice light with curiosity.

Xaden nodded. "Yeah… but wear this."

He unclasped his cape, draping it over her shoulders. It was far too big for her, but it would keep her warm. They didn’t have time to grab hers, and it would be windy outside.

Violet pulled it tighter around herself, looking up at him with something soft and warm in her eyes. "Thanks."

As they approached the carriage, Dante stood waiting, his expression neutral—but his sharp gaze flicked to Xaden like he was silently weighing him. Xaden rolled his eyes. Overprotective guards.

He helped Violet into the carriage first, then followed her inside. The door clicked shut, and the silence settled over them. Violet gazed out the window, fingers brushing the glass absentmindedly, as if eager to see where they were going.

Xaden, meanwhile, was trying to calm the riot in his chest. He had never cared this much before. He wasn’t supposed to care this much. But Mira’s words echoed in his head.

Just be yourself.

Yeah. Easier said than done.

"Are we going to the night market?" Violet suddenly asked, turning back to him. Her smile was small but bright. "Did you know I always wanted to come here?"

Xaden exhaled a chuckle. "A few birds told me." He shrugged. "Tonight seemed perfect. Everyone expects you to still be at the ball. Your mom saw you dance, so she’ll think you’ve gone to bed."

Violet’s smile softened, and she nodded slightly. But when he reached over and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she blushed.

Gods, he loved that.

When they arrived at the night market, it was in full swing. Strings of mage lights hung across the street, casting everything in warm, golden hues. The scent of sweet pastries and sizzling meats filled the air. Vendors lined the narrow streets, selling everything from enchanted trinkets to handwoven scarves. Laughter and music rippled through the crowd.

Xaden stepped out first, but when he glanced down, he noticed her shoes. High heels. Gold-strapped and elegant… but completely impractical.

"Stay here for a minute," he said.

Violet blinked. "Why?"

"Just… trust me."

He disappeared into the crowd, weaving through the stalls until he found what he was looking for—a vendor selling slippers. Simple, soft-soled, perfect for walking. He bought a pair in what looks like her size and returned to the carriage, where she was practically bouncing with anticipation.

But when she saw the slippers in his hands, she blushed again.

Xaden smirked. "Give me your foot."

"I can do it," she argued.

"I want to do it."

She stared at him for a beat, then sighed, lifting her foot toward him. Xaden crouched slightly, his hands gentle as he reached for the strap of her heel—but then he froze.

There, on her ankle, was a dagger.

A small, sleek blade strapped neatly to her shoe.

Gods help him. He liked what he saw. 

Xaden stared at it for a second longer than he probably should have. Then he looked up at her, incredulous. "You have a dagger on your shoe."

Violet raised a brow. "I don’t have pockets. A girl has to do what she has to do."

Grinning, he carefully removed her heels and slipped the slippers onto her feet. When he handed the dagger back to her, he watched in amused disbelief as she twisted her hair up and used the dagger to pin it in place. A few strands fell loose, framing her face.

Xaden shook his head, grinning. "What?" she asked.

"I am never unarmed," she said with a playful shrug. 

Xaden chuckled softly. "Defenseless women have never been my type."

She blushed again but smiled at him. 

Xaden held her hand tightly as they stepped into the market, the warmth of her fingers threading through his. The nerves from earlier were still there… but for once, they didn’t matter.

All that mattered was this.

And gods… he never wanted the night to end.

-DRAKE-

Drake leaned casually against the marble column, swirling the amber liquid in his glass as the music shifted to another slow, elegant tune. The ballroom glittered with chandeliers and laughter, but his focus remained fixed on Mira.

They’d danced a few more songs, long enough for him to make a point. He caught the way Tait Archibald’s face had tightened when Mira leaned closer during the waltz, her laughter light and warm against Drake’s ear. Good. Let the spineless little viscount stew in his jealousy.

He handed Mira a drink, the edge of his mouth curving into a small, private smile as her fingers brushed his. She took it, but her attention was already shifting.

"Liam," she said, voice low but pointed, "did Violet and Xaden get out without a problem?"

Drake lifted a brow. So that was why they’d disappeared.

Liam nodded. "Yeah. Xaden got her out through the back gate. Dante’s with them."

Drake exhaled softly, feeling a flicker of envy twist in his chest. A date. Xaden was taking Violet on a date.

He wanted that. Gods, he wanted that with Mira. To walk hand in hand, away from the eyes of everyone who watched them like hawks. To make her smile—just for him.

But they weren’t there yet.

He forced the thought aside as Liam added, "Queen Tauri’s been looking at you, Mira."

Mira sighed under her breath, fixing her expression into something polite and poised before turning toward the queen. Drake watched her go, the way her shoulders straightened, the calm, confident way she carried herself. But as the conversation went on, something felt… off.

Mira's expression didn’t falter, but Drake saw the tension in the way her fingers gripped her glass. The slight downturn of her lips when she wasn’t speaking.

"Why do I feel like Mira’s being scolded?" Liam muttered at his side.

Before Drake could answer, Cam—standing on his left—let out a soft, amused breath. "She is."

Drake turned to her. "Why?"

Cam tilted his head toward his mother. "She didn’t wear the diadem my mom gave her."

Drake frowned. "Queen Tauri gave her a diadem?"

Cam nodded. "Yeah. Wants Mira and Halden together. She’s been pushing it for years."

Drake’s grip tightened around his glass, his jaw clenching before he could stop it. He barely knew Halden, but he didn’t need to. The man wasn’t right for her. Hell, Mira had never even looked at him the way she had…

Drake forced himself to take a breath.

"She didn’t wear it," he said quietly, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.

"Nope," Cam said with a smirk.

"But she has a new dagger though," Liam adds wiggling his brows at Drake. Liam knows the dagger belongs to Drake's family, before today his mother always has that dagger with her.

Drake chuckled under his breath. Mira choose Poromiel's dagger over Navarre's diadem. 

But still, something in his chest twisted. He didn’t want her standing over there, taking whatever subtle jabs Queen Tauri was throwing her way. He wanted to be the one standing next to her. Shielding her.

And maybe… maybe she’d let him.

He drained the rest of his glass, setting it down with a soft clink before pushing off the column.

-XADEN-

Laughter echoed through the crowded streets as strings of mage lights swayed above them, casting a warm golden glow over the market. Xaden walked hand in hand with Violet, feeling the comforting weight of her fingers laced through his. Every now and then, they’d stop to look at trinkets—enchanted glass figures that shimmered like starlight, handwoven scarves that smelled faintly of lavender.

Dante trailed a few steps behind, ever the watchful guard. Xaden barely noticed him. His attention was completely fixed on Violet—the way her eyes lit up when she found something interesting, the way she pulled him closer when the crowd pressed in a little too tight.

Then she tugged him back abruptly. "Xaden," she said, voice slightly breathless. "I’m hungry."

He followed her gaze to a vendor selling burgers and fries. He blinked, a little surprised. "You want… street food?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes. I barely ate at the ball. People kept wanting to talk."

Xaden had been planning to suggest a nice restaurant near the market—something quiet and a little more… refined. But if Violet wanted street food, then he’d get her street food.

They walked up to the stall. The scent of sizzling beef and fried potatoes filled the air.

"What can I get you miss?" the vendor asked.

Violet didn’t hesitate. "Fries, chicken tenders… and can we share a burger?" She glanced at Xaden, her eyes bright with excitement.

Xaden’s lips quirked and nods at her. She had a bigger appetite than he expected. He liked that. "We’ll get those. And water… and iced tea."

"I’ll find us a seat," Violet said, already pulling her hand away from his.

Xaden hesitated, not wanting to let go, but nodded to Dante. The guard followed her as she made her way to the benches nearby.

When the food was ready, Xaden carried it over to the table where Violet was waiting. She perked up the moment she saw him, her gaze zeroing in on the fries.

"I was really hungry," she admitted as she dug in.

"You barely touched your food earlier," Xaden said with a chuckle.

"I told you — I was busy. People wanted to talk."

"Yeah you keep talking to Alic," Xaden murmured barely audible.

"Sorry, what was that?" she asked.

"Nothing, here," Xaden handed her the burger. She took a bite, and instantly, her face lit up. Her eyes went wide with delight, cheeks puffed as she chewed happily.

Xaden couldn’t help but smile. "Is it that good?"

Violet nodded enthusiastically. She was still chewing when he reached out and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth with his thumb then he licked it clean.

She paused, swallowing her food. "I’m happy," she said softly.

And gods help him… so was he.

Xaden took a bite of the burger. It really was delicious—but it wasn’t the food making his chest feel warm. It was the way Violet sat next to him, content and smiling, her shoulder brushing his arm every now and then.

He never thought something this simple could feel this good.

As they continued eating, a small voice interrupted them.

"Are you a princess?"

They both turned. A young boy stood a few feet away, staring at Violet in awe.

She blinked in surprise, a smile already forming on her lips. "No, I’m—"

"She’s my princess," Xaden cut in, his voice playful. "Go get your own princess."

The boy scowled at him, huffed, and ran off.

"Xaden!" Violet gasped, eyes wide. "You scared him!"

He shrugged, unapologetic. "It is our date, you are my princess."

Violet rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she bit into another fry. "Gods, you’re impossible."

They walked hand in hand through the bustling night market, the noise and lights fading into the background. Violet clutched a small bag of roasted sweet potatoes she’d insisted on buying for Mira, her eyes bright with happiness.

Xaden couldn’t stop staring at her. She was radiant, her smile so genuine it made his chest ache. He hadn't known something this simple could feel this good—holding her hand, stealing glances as she laughed at street performers or bartered for a trinket.

They stopped near a hill overlooking the market, the distant hum of laughter and music carrying on the breeze. Violet exhaled softly, looking out over the view.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said quietly. "I’ve wanted to come for so long…"

Xaden’s throat tightened. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to go out. She was caged like Mira because of that stalker. 

"Anytime," he said. "We can go again if you like, when Tairn and Sgaeyl gets back we can fly around the continent, the five of us can explore."

Violet glanced at him, eyes warm. "Andarna said she’d like that…"

"Yeah, How about you?"

"I'd love that,"

Xaden grins, then something shifted. Heat flared down his spine, sudden and intense. His heart pounded hard against his ribs, his breath catching in his throat. He closed his eyes, pulling himself inward—to the hill where Sgaeyl’s power swirled, steady and familiar.

But it wasn’t just Sgaeyl anymore.

A onyx void, crackling swirl had formed beside the deep blue. Lightning cracked through the sky of his mental hill, a silver cloud rolling in, charged with heat and power, silver like the tips of Violet's hair.

And then he felt Violet’s hand squeeze his.

"Xaden?" Her voice was breathless. "I feel hot…"

When he opened his eyes, her face was flushed, cheeks burning as she struggled out of his cape. She was panting, chest rising and falling fast.

Gods.

Xaden clenched his jaw. He knew exactly what this was.

Fuck! Sgaeyl and Tairn were mating.

And he and Violet could feel it.

Xaden acted on instinct, scooping her up before she could even protest. Her hands gripped his shoulders, warm and trembling, and he carried her down the hill in long, quick strides.

"Dante!" His voice was rougher than he intended. "Get the carriage. Drive fast."

Once they are inside the carriage,Violet squirmed in his arms. "Xaden… I want to get out of this dress. I feel hot—I feel—"

"I know," he ground out. "I know, Violence."

She kept moving, her hands tugging at the neckline of her dress. He caught her wrists, holding them gently but firmly. She looked up at him, and gods help him, the heat in her gaze nearly undid him.

They were face to face now. Her breath was coming fast, her lips parted and so, so close. He could barely think, heart pounding harder than the storm on his hill.

This wasn’t them. It wasn’t their feelings—it was their dragons.

But hell, he’d wanted her long before this.

And she was looking at his lips.

Violet bit her bottom lip.

Fuck it.

Xaden crashed his lips to hers.

The moment their lips met, it was like the entire world shifted. Heat surged through Xaden’s veins—not just from the bond, not just from Sgaeyl and Tairn—but from the overwhelming need that had been building for so long. 

Violet’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and gods help him, he never wanted to let go. But it wasn’t just desire. It was something deeper, something raw. She wasn’t just anyone—she was his match. His storm. His calm.

And he was hers.

But this wasn’t theirs. Not yet.

With a shaky breath, Xaden forced himself to pull back, resting his forehead against hers. Both of them were breathing hard, eyes half-lidded, chests rising and falling as they tried to steady themselves.

"Violence…" His voice was rough, filled with emotion he hadn’t meant to show. "This isn’t us."

Violet blinked, her breath warm against his lips. Her flushed cheeks slowly faded to a soft pink, and her hands loosened from where they clung to his shirt. She exhaled shakily, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

"I know," she whispered. "But it felt like us."

Xaden closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She fit perfectly there, like she was made to be in his arms. "It is us," he admitted quietly. "Not just us."

Violet gave a small laugh, breathless and warm against his neck. "I hate that Tairn and Sgaeyl beat us to it."

Xaden chuckled softly. "Thank Amari, you are with me."

The carriage jolted slightly as it rolled over a bump, and Violet lifted her head. They stared at each other for a long moment, the heat between them settling into something quieter. Something steady.

Xaden reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time."

Violet smiled softly, eyes still heavy with emotion. "I’ve wanted you to."

The words hit him harder than he expected. He wanted to say more—wanted to tell her that he wasn’t just in this because of the bond, that this was real, that it had been real long before tonight. But he didn’t need to. She already knew.

"Find me when it happen again," Xaden murmured, it would kill him if she was with another man when it happen again. What if she was with Alic? or Dain? Xaden would fucking lose it.

"How about you find me," she challenged.

"Oh Violence I will always find you," he promised.

As the carriage rolled on through the night, Violet curled into his side, her hand resting over his heart. Xaden rested his chin lightly on her head, holding her close. The bond crackled between them, but it was quiet now. Steady.

-MIRA-

Mira exhaled deeply, exhaustion sinking into her bones as she made her way through the crowded ballroom. Her head pounded, and her heart was heavy with frustration. Talking to Queen Tauri had drained her.

Of course, the Queen had asked about the diadem. Mira had known she would, but she hadn’t expected the confrontation to happen right in the middle of the ball.

“Why didn’t you wear the diadem?” the Queen had asked, her tone polite but cutting—the kind of tone that left no room for excuses.

Mira had forced a smile, as if her heart wasn’t racing. “It didn’t go well with my dress, Your majesty” she’d said lightly, shrugging.

The Queen didn’t believe her. Mira could see it in the way her eyes narrowed, the way her lips pressed together in disapproval. But before she could push further, Halden had appeared at Mira’s side, his hand gently resting on her shoulder.

“Mom, May I borrow Mira for a moment?” he’d asked with a charming smile.

Mira could’ve kissed him out of pure relief.

But the moment she thought she was in the clear, as if the universe had a cruel sense of humor, Tait Archibald stepped into her path.

“Mira,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. “Let me explain. Just five minutes—I promise. I won’t bother you after.”

Mira sighed, exhaustion pulling at her limbs. She could’ve walked away. She wanted to walk away. But there was a part of her that needed closure… the kind that could only come from facing him head-on.

She nodded once. “Fine. Five minutes. I will listen but you will not touch me.”

Halden gave her a look—a subtle raise of his brow, as if asking if she wanted him to stay. She shook her head. This was her mess to finish.

Tait led her toward the gardens, the same garden where they used to talk for hours when they were together. The air smelled like roses and cold stone. Mira leaned against the wall, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Go on,” she said. “Start talking.”

Tait exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I love you, Mira. I still do. I was scared I couldn’t give you the life you deserve. I wanted to give you everything…”

Mira’s jaw tightened. Her heart ached, but not for him—for the version of herself who had waited for him that night. Who had believed he would show up. Who had trusted him.

“Then you should’ve told me you weren’t ready,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I waited for you that night. I trusted you.”

I loved you.

“I know,” Tait said, his voice cracking. He took a breath, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Mira. I was insecure about your status. You’re a general’s daughter… your best friend is the prince… you lived in a palace. I was scared that if you realized I couldn’t give you the life you deserve, you’d leave me.”

Mira blinked, her heart hardening. He was scared I'd leave him, so he left me first. What a coward. 

“I’m sorry I left,” Tait continued, his voice earnest. “But I’m here now. I got the title and the estate, I’m now confident I can give you the life you deserve.”

Mira shook her head. “But I don’t love you anymore,” she said quietly. “I don’t even trust you.”

Tait winced as if her words were physical blows. “I’ll court you again,” he said, his voice desperate now. “I’ll remind you of the past we had. I’ll make you love me again. I'll earn your trust again. Please give me a chance, Mira.”

Mira’s eyes softened with pity. “There’s nothing you can say or do that will change my mind.”

But Tait wasn’t listening. He stepped closer, placing his arm on the wall beside her face, leaning in. His breath smelled like wine, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

“You’re drunk,” Mira said, her voice tense.

“No I just had a glass, let me remind you... ” Tait leaned closer—too close.

Mira raise her hand to slap him but her palm did not reach him, in a blur, he was gone.

Yanked away.

Drake Cordella had him by his collar, his fury crackling in the air like a storm. Tait stumbled back, crashing onto the grass with a stunned gasp, shaking his head.

Mira blinked, her breath catching in her chest.

Drake's eyes burned with fury, his fists clenched at his sides. He turned to her instantly, his expression softening just slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

“Yes,” Mira breathed. “I’m fine.”

But Drake wasn’t. His gaze zeroed in on Tait, his whole body coiled tight with rage. He took a step forward. Another.

He was going to hurt him.

“Drake, stop. No,” Mira said quickly caught his arm, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “He was drunk. He is not worth it.”

But Drake barely seemed to hear her. His breathing was rough, his muscles tensed.

“How dare he try to kiss you?” Drake growled.

Mira moved in front of him, her hands moved up to his chest, gently but firmly holding him there. “Look at me,” she said softly.

His eyes finally met hers—still burning, but grounded now.

“He’s a Viscount of Navarre,” she said gently. “And you are a Prince of Poromiel. If you hurt him, it will set a stir between our countries.”

Drake’s jaw clenched, but he exhaled slowly. She could feel him calming under her hands. Slowly, deliberately.

-DRAKE-

Drake weaved through the crowd with purpose, a fresh glass of champagne in hand. His eyes flicked toward Queen Tauri, who was still speaking with Mira. The tightness in Mira’s smile was enough to tell him all he needed to know—she wasn’t enjoying the conversation.

He planned to steer her away from the Queen the moment he got close enough. But before he could reach her, a familiar voice called his name.

“Drake.”

He turned to see Cat and Syrena approaching. Cat had a small, amused smile tugging at her lips, while Syrena just looked tired.

“She wants to say goodbye,” Syrena explained. “She’s leaving early in the morning.”

Cat threw her arms around him in a warm hug. “I’ll get going,” she said as she pulled back. “But first I have to confirm something, You were dancing with Mira earlier, you like her didn't you?”

“Duh! I think he is obsessed with her.” Syrena chimes.

Drake raised a brow. 

Cat chuckled, shaking her head. “The Sorrengails… they’re something else.”

Drake smiled faintly. “They are,” he agreed. “Say hi to Trager for me.”

“I will.” Cat gave him a wink. “Good luck.”

As Cat and Syrena disappeared into the crowd, Drake exhaled, his gaze immediately scanning the room. His chest tightened. Mira was nowhere to be seen.

He started walking, weaving between groups of people, his heart pounding a little faster with each passing second. 

After what felt like forever, he finally spotted Halden on a balcony, a glass in hand. Drake made his way over, his boots clicking against the polished floor.

Halden didn’t look surprised to see him. In fact, the prince gave a knowing smile as Drake approached. “You’re looking for Mira.”

Drake’s jaw clenched. “Where is she?”

Halden didn’t answer. He just jerked his head downward. Drake followed his gaze… and his blood boiled.

By the garden wall stood Mira—arms crossed, glaring at Tait Archibald. The spineless viscount was talking with exaggerated gestures, like he was trying to explain something. Or justify it.

Drake’s hand curled into a fist.

“You let him near her?” he growled.

Halden exhaled slowly. “The viscount needs to hear it from Mira, or he won’t stop.”

Drake glared at him. He understood the logic, but he didn’t like it. He hated it. And he hated that Tait was still standing so close to her.

Drake and Halden watched as the Mira and Tait talked, Mira looking firm and cold while Tait looking desperate.

And then Tait leaned in.

Drake’s heart stopped.

The viscount braced one hand against the wall beside Mira’s face. Too close. His posture screamed arrogance. Like he was about to kiss her.

Halden took a step toward the stairs. Drake didn’t wait.

He climbed the balcony railing and jumped down. It wasn’t that high. He landed hard, his boots crunching against the grass, and he was moving before Tait even realized what was happening.

Mira’s eyes widened when she saw him.

Drake didn’t hesitate. Fury propelled him forward. He grabbed Tait by the nape of his neck and yanked him away from her. The viscount stumbled back, hitting the grass with a startled grunt.

“Are you okay?” Drake asked Mira, his voice rough with barely controlled anger.

She nodded quickly. “Yes, I’m fine.”

But Drake’s attention was already back on Tait. His vision tunneled. All he could think about was how close this spineless bastard had been to her—how he had the audacity to try and touch her.

He took a step toward Tait, fists clenching.

Mira caught his arm. “Drake, stop. No.”

He barely heard her. His blood roared in his ears.

“He was drunk,” she said. “It’s not worth it.”

Drake’s jaw clenched tighter. Not worth it? How could she say that when this idiot had tried to kiss her the second he left her side?

“How dare he try to kiss you?” Drake growled. His breathing was ragged. He took another step forward, but Mira moved in front of him, her hands on his chest.

“Look at me,” she said softly. Her hands on his chest grounding him as his eyes met hers.

“He’s a Viscount of Navarre,” she reminded him. “And you are a Prince of Poromiel. If you hurt him, it’ll set off a stir between our countries.”

Drake closed his eyes, exhaling hard. She was right. He knew she was right. But the fury still burned beneath his skin.

He felt her hand slip into his, small and warm. The tension in his chest loosened slightly.

“I’m fine,” Mira repeated gently. “Let it go.”

Drake opened his eyes, meeting hers again. Slowly, he nodded.

He laced their fingers together and led her away from the garden. But as they walked, he glanced back once—just once—to where Tait was still picking himself up from the grass.

If he ever tried something like that again, no one would be able to stop him.

They walked in silence through the crowd, but Drake barely noticed anyone around them. All he could feel was Mira's hand in his—warm, steady… his.

People were staring. He could see them out of the corner of his eye. Curious glances, raised eyebrows, whispers exchanged behind the rims of champagne glasses. Everyone was taking note. Drake Cordella and Mira Sorrengail, walking hand in hand.

But none of that mattered.

The only thing he could think about was the way his blood still simmered under his skin. The fury that hadn’t fully burned out. The jealousy that coiled low in his chest.

They passed another group of onlookers, and suddenly, Mira tugged him to the side. “Wait let's talk,” she said.

Drake blinked as she pulled him into a shadowed alcove just off the main hall. The noise of the crowd faded into a dull hum. Mira pulled her hand out of his, and they were face to face. 

“Why did you let him near you? If I was not fast enough he would have kissed you.” Drake demanded, his voice rough.

Mira’s eyes narrowed. “No, my palm would have reached him,” she said. “But why are you so furious? why do you sound like… like a jealous boyfriend?”

Drake opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He clenched his jaw. She was right—he was jealous. And furious. And frustrated beyond reason. But he wasn’t her boyfriend.

Not yet.

“Do you…” Mira hesitated, searching his face. Her voice softened. “Do you like me?”

Drake let out a rough huff, running a hand through his hair. “Do I like you?” he repeated, almost incredulous. His chest heaved as the words poured out, unfiltered and raw. “Every night I can’t sleep because I’m too busy thinking about you. Every morning I'm excited to wake up because I will see you. I always want to be near you. Butterflies? Hell, Mira—I’ve got an entire damn storm in my stomach every time you smile, glare or even seethe at me.”

He took a step closer, his breathing heavy. Syrena was right. “I don’t just like you, Mira,” he said, his voice low. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Mira stared at him, wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted. She didn’t say anything.

Drake exhaled hard, his heart pounding in his chest. His gaze dropped to her lips—full, soft, so painfully beautiful. He reached out without thinking, running his thumb slowly over her bottom lip.

“You have the most beautiful lips,” he murmured.

He wanted to kiss her. Hell, he wanted more than that. He wanted everything.

Mira swallowed hard. He could feel the tremble in her breath.

But then she blinked, her expression shifting. Her walls slammed back into place. “Drake… I can’t do this,” she whispered.

The words hit him harder than any punch ever could.

She stepped back—and left him standing there.

Drake exhaled slowly, running both hands over his face. He understood why she was leaving. He wasn’t angry at her. He couldn’t blame her.

She gave her heart once to that bastard who does not deserve it and broke it. She'd built walls to protect her heart.

Walls that Drake would break to get to her.

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden was still high from their date.

Their date at the night market had been perfect—watching Violet’s eyes light up at every stall, the way she’d laughed when he stole bites of her food, how she had shyly leaned into him when their hands brushed. And the kiss…

Damn, the kiss.

All day throughout the day, when she wasn’t around, he found himself replaying it in his mind. The softness of her lips, the way her fingers had clutched at his hair, how she had melted into him. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an unspoken promise, a tether that neither of them had been willing to acknowledge before.

But the reality was complicated. Their mated dragons that amplifies what they feel and sometime affect it. He was from Tyrrendor. She was Navarre’s it girl. And in Calldyr, surrounded by too many eyes and too many opinions—at least on Navarre’s side—it wasn’t so simple. 

So they had agreed to take it slow. Keep it a secret at least from the Navarre's leadership.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself.

He spent every chance he got stealing glances at Violet, making sure their arms, shoulders, or thighs brushed whenever they were near each other. And every time she blushed—every time she looked away, flustered—he savored it.

When they were hanging out at the legacies lounge after breakfast, Xaden sat at the couch, watching Violet out of the corner of his eye as she sipped her tea. She was reading a new book, her silver hair catching the morning light. He leaned forward, just enough that his knee brushed against hers beneath the table.

Violet stiffened slightly, her lips parting, but she didn’t move away.

Instead, she flicked her gaze up at him—only to find him already watching her.

A pink hue dusted her cheeks, and she quickly looked back at her book, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Xaden smirked, sipping his coffee like he hadn’t done it on purpose.

Violet Sorrengail, flustered because of him.

It was a rare kind of power, and he would use it as often as he could.

By midday, he had perfected the art of driving her crazy. A lingering touch as he passed by, a low murmur in her ear when she wasn’t expecting it, standing just a little too close. And every time she swallowed hard, every time she bit her lip, every time her cheeks turned pink—his smirk only grew.

But what he hadn’t expected was how much he missed her when she wasn’t there. How his mind drifted to the night before, how he could still taste her if he closed his eyes.

He was completely, utterly screwed.

The next morning, just as he was reliving the way she had looked at him in the carriage—like she wanted him as much as he wanted her—his door burst open.

Garrick, Liam, and Bodhi barged in like a damn cavalry.

"Alright, spill," Liam demanded, flopping onto the nearest chair.

"How’d it go?" Garrick smirked, crossing his arms. "You’ve been acting smug as hell since yesterday."

Bodhi leaned against the doorframe, grinning. "You look like a man who had discovered fire for the first time."

Xaden rolled his eyes, leaning back against the pillows. He considered telling them everything—the way Violet had kissed him back just as fiercely, how she had trembled slightly in his arms, the way he had barely stopped himself from pulling her back for more.

But instead, he just smirked and said, “It was great.”

And refused to elaborate.

The groans of frustration from his friends were almost as satisfying as the memory of Violet’s lips on his.

Garrick, Bodhi, and Liam were still fishing for details about his date, but Xaden wasn’t listening.

His mind was elsewhere—on the swirling colors in his mental hill.

The black swirl was definitely Tairn. That much was obvious. But the silver cloud? It was Violet. It had to be. That soft, shifting silver reminded him of the tips of her hair, the way they gleamed under the moonlight.

Could he reach her the way he spoke to Sgaeyl? Could he reach her if he tried?

The idea sent a thrill of excitement through him. If their bond had evolved to this point, it meant something. It meant everything.

And if he could hear Violet… could he also hear Tairn?

That made him pause. Would he even want to? Tairn wasn’t exactly the type to keep his opinions to himself, and he was sure the dragon had more than enough things to say about him kissing his rider.

But still, the idea of a deeper connection with Violet—it made his pulse quicken.

Before he could dwell on it further, the door swung open again, and Imogen strode in.

"Oh, gods! Will you please leave him alone?" she chastised, fixing Garrick, Bodhi, and Liam with an exasperated glare.

The three groaned but stopped their interrogation, clearly reluctant to leave.

“We were just getting somewhere,” Liam muttered.

"You were getting nowhere," Imogen corrected. "Now get out. We have a meeting in an hour, and you all need to be prepared for once."

That got their attention.

"Meeting?" Bodhi asked, already standing.

Imogen nodded. "My mother just arrived from the front. She’s here to report on what’s happening there. It’s important."

The mood shifted instantly. The teasing was gone, replaced by something sharper.

Without another word, the three left, already discussing what the meeting could mean.

Once they were gone, Imogen turned back to Xaden, a knowing smile curling at the edges of her lips.

"Alright," she said, crossing her arms. "Now tell me what happened on your date."

Xaden just smirked. “It was great.”

Imogen groaned. "You asshole!"

-DRAKE-

Mira was avoiding him.

Not just ignoring him—but actively avoiding him.

No teasing smirks. No sharp glares. No witty remarks thrown his way. When he got into the room, she excused herself.

And it was driving him insane.

If he’d known confessing his feelings would make her recoil like this, he would’ve swallowed every damn word. He hadn't planned on confessing his feelings that night he was just caught by his emotions, seeing Tait Archibald lean in like he had any claim over her—like he had the right to even breathe in her space—Drake had snapped.

Now, all he had was regret.

And a hell of a lot of frustration.

And he hated it.

So when he was walking through the palace grounds and suddenly yanked behind a tree, his instincts flared—until he saw who was responsible.

Violet.

The tiny menace stood in front of him, arms crossed, her silver-streaked hair catching the light as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Alright, Your Highness, Mira is avoiding you like a plague.” she started, voice sharp. “What did you do?”

Drake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I confessed to her.”

Violet blinked. “You what?”

“I told her I don’t just like her,” he said, voice low and irritated. “I told her I’m obsessed with her.”

Violet’s mouth fell open.

Then, to his complete disbelief, she started laughing.

“Oh, your highness—”

“Please call me Drake,” he muttered.

Violet snorted but nodded. “Drake,” she corrected. “That definitely explains why she’s avoiding you.”

Drake’s jaw ticked. “Fantastic.”

Violet tilted her head, considering him. Then, to his surprise, her expression softened.

“Look,” she said, “since you are officially my favorite Cordella—”

“I wish I'm Mira's favorite,” he muttered.

She ignored him. “I will help you. But you have to be willing to work hard.”

Drake met her gaze, deadly serious. “Tell me what I have to do.”

Violet grinned. “Gaining Mira’s trust and affection? Not easy, because of that pighead Viscount. But doable.”

Drake already knew why Mira was like this. It all comes back to Tait Archibald.

The bastard broke her heart. He left her.

And now he had the audacity to reappear, leaning into her space like he had the right—

Drake clenched his fists. “Speaking of,” he growled, “where is that pigheaded Viscount? I swear I’ll kill him for being near her last night. It was unbearable to watch.”

Violet waved a hand. “Don’t worry about him.”

Drake narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

She smiled innocently. Too innocently.

“He’s sleeping.”

Drake raised a brow. “Sleeping?”

Violet’s grin widened. “Like a baby.”

Something about her tone made him pause.

He tilted his head. “Violet, What did you do?”

Violet just winked. “Let’s just say… he won’t be bothering Mira again anytime soon.”

Drake grinned.

***

The room was tense, filled with high-ranking officials, generals, and the key players in their Tyrrendor-Poromiel alliance. Drake sat between Syrena and Brennan in the lounge, watching as Imogen’s mother stood beside the large map of the continent, detailing the frontlines.

“Our numbers are dwindling,” she reported grimly. “We need reinforcements.”

One of the generals spoke up. “We can increase recruitment efforts, but we need experienced riders and fliers now—not months from now.”

Felix, one of the senior strategists, leaned forward. “We can push for the joint military exercises again. At the last meeting, Colonel Panchek and a few Majors hinted that they would support the idea if we stressed its importance.”

“It’s the only way,” Brennan agreed. “If we can get more riders to see the truth firsthand, some of them might defect and help us.”

Drake watched the room closely, noting the shifting expressions of the council members. Some looked convinced. Others—less so.

Then Suri, one of the more politically driven Majors, asked the question Drake knew was coming.

“Any news on the Legacies' signets?”

Silence fell over the room.

Drake stiffened. He wasn’t the only one.

His gaze flickered toward Brennan, who is now glaring at Suri. But Xaden? His jaw clenched hard.

Suri continued, her tone calculated. “Some of the Majors believe the Sorrengail girls would be assets to our cause.”

Drake’s hands curled into fists.

They’re not weapons.

Before he could speak, Xaden did.

“There’s no news,” Xaden said, voice tight. “But regardless, they need to trust us first. Don’t look at them like they’re pieces on a battlefield.” He exhaled sharply. “Even if they are assets, they have the right to choose if they help us or not.”

His voice carried clear distaste, and Drake couldn’t blame him.

Suri tilted her head, unimpressed. “You speak as if they won’t choose our side.”

“They’re people, Suri,” Drake snapped before he could stop himself. “Not weapons for you to wield.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed over Suri’s face, but she didn’t argue.

Drake sat back, jaw tight, still seething.

Mira had enough damn people seeing her as a tool. She didn’t need this.

And maybe she didn’t want him either.

But one thing was certain—he wasn’t done proving to her that he wasn’t like the rest.

After their meeting, Drake tried to focus on his work. He really did.

Official documents from Poromiel had arrived, with Imogen's mother, detailing the grim reality—flier numbers were dwindling, and the frontlines were suffering for it. He spent the morning strategizing, reorganizing drifts, and figuring out where to reassign fliers to cover their losses.

But no amount of paperwork could distract him from the fact that Mira was still keeping her distance.

By the time he stepped out of his room per Violet's note to come to the gym, his head was pounding.

That was when he heard it—cheers, groans, and the unmistakable sound of daggers hitting wood.

Drake frowned and followed the noise to the gym.

A line of men stood outside, watching with nervous energy. He narrowed his eyes. “What the hell is this?”

Syrena, standing off to the side, smirked at him.

“Mira’s accepting suitors,” she said, clearly entertained.

Drake’s stomach dropped. “She’s what?”

Syrena gestured toward the small arena where Violet stood with a handful of daggers, smirking at the man in front of her.

Syrena chuckled, clearly enjoying his reaction. “They have to withstand Violet throwing daggers at them without flinching. Each dagger they endure earns them one hour of Mira’s time.” She glanced at him. “Pretty smart, actually. Keeps the cowards away.”

Drake’s jaw clenched as he scanned the idiots lined up. He thought he made it clear at the ball that Mira was off-limits.

He turned his attention to the challenge. Drake’s jaw ticked. He clenched his fists as he watched the scene unfold.

One suitor stepped up. Violet grinned wickedly before launching a dagger straight at him. It hit the wooden target just inches from his head.

He flinched.

“Next,” Violet said, unimpressed.

Another stepped up. Another flinch.

Drake crossed his arms, not amused.

His gaze flicked to Mira, standing off to the side, arms crossed. She looked bored—whether at the line of suitors or the whole ordeal, he wasn’t sure.

Drake’s lips curled into a slow smirk. One dagger is one hour with Mira?

He stepped forward. Syrena hummed beside him. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Violet spotted him and grinned. “Oh, hey, Drake! Finally someone worthy of my time.”

He smirked. “Hello Violet, if you don’t mind.”

He stood in front of the target. Violet palming her daggers.

Mira immediately moved toward them, eyes wide. “Violet, no—”

Too late.

The first dagger flew, it landed just above drake's ear.

Drake didn’t flinch.

The second. The third.

With each dagger, his smirk grew.

By the fourth, Mira looked ready to strangle Violet.

By the eighth, her glare could have melted steel.

By the twelfth, Drake was outright grinning.

Violet lowered her arm, letting out an impressed whistle. “Damn. Guess Mira’s schedule is full.”

-XADEN-

Xaden hadn’t known what to expect when he and his father were called to General Sorrengail’s office, but this?

This was not it.

The moment he stepped inside, he found Mira, Drake, and Violet already seated on the couch. General Sorrengail sat behind her desk, her expression as unreadable as ever. But it was the man standing beside her that set off every warning bell in Xaden’s head.

Thick black hair, perfectly combed. Boots, polished to an unnatural shine. And a smile that was too cruel to be anything but dangerous.

“I am Major Varrish,” the man introduced himself, his voice like oil slicked over steel. “And I am currently investigating a poisoning.”

Xaden narrowed his eyes as he sat beside Violet, he slides his foot over Violet's so hers was under his, a protective instinct. 

“Poisoning?” he repeated.

Varrish nodded. “Yes. Viscount Archibald has been unconscious since the night of the ball. It has been two days.”

Drake snorted, arms crossed. “Someone poisoned him?”

“Indeed.” Varrish’s sharp gaze flickered to Drake. “And you, Prince Drake and Miss Mira, were the last one seen with him.”

Xaden didn’t miss the way Mira’s posture remained perfectly poised, but there was a distinct tension in her shoulders.

“We talked,” she said smoothly. “He looked drunk—which I now realize was likely the poison setting in. He leaned in for a kiss, Prince Drake saw it, yanked him away from me, and then we left him.”

Drake leaned forward shifting so his body was covering half of Mira's, his expression sharp. “I led Mira away from the Viscount. We talked, then I walked her to her room. Many saw us leaving the ball.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “She was with me the whole night.”

Xaden watched, amused, as Mira glared at Drake—but notably, she did not deny it.

“Hm,” Varrish hummed, then his gaze flickered to Violet.

Xaden didn’t like that.

“And Miss Violet,” Varrish said smoothly. “Where were you that night?”

Xaden saw Violet’s smile before she even spoke, the dangerous kind of smile that meant she was about to welcome the challenge.

“I was never near the Viscount,” she said sweetly. “Everyone saw I gave the speech, ate dinner, spent time with my friends, danced with Prince Xaden, then danced with the King—”

“And after that?” Varrish cut in sharply. “No one saw you. Where did you go?”

Xaden’s irritation flared.

“She was with me,” he said, voice cold. “And I do not want to elaborate. But I can confirm—she was never near the Viscount.”

“It seems that I am here to be a witness as well, I can confirm that Miss Violet left the ball with my son,” his dad added with conviction.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Varrish and General Sorrengail both turned their sharp gazes onto him and Violet.

Varrish hummed, but General Sorrengail—She coughed.

“I think we’re done here, Major Varrish,” she said.

But Varrish didn’t back down.

“General, I still believe your daughter—”

“Are you saying my daughters are lying?” the General asked, her voice deadly calm.

Varrish paled. “No, I—I didn’t mean—”

“Then what is it?”

“I was just—”

“I asked you if you think my daughters were lying,” the General repeated, her voice like a blade. “You said no. So tell me, Major—what are you still doing in my office?”

Varrish swallowed hard, his face almost ghostly pale.

“Yes, General. I—I’ll get going now,” he said quickly, backing toward the door.

But before he could escape entirely—

General Sorrengail delivered the final blow.

“Next time, Varrish,” she said, her voice filled with a quiet promise, “that you plan to interrogate my daughters without my knowledge…”

She leaned forward slightly.

“That will be the last plan you ever make.”

Varrish bolted.

And Xaden?

He grinned.

The silence in General Sorrengail’s office was thick, as if the entire room was holding its breath. No one spoke, no one moved—not until the sound of Major Varrish’s footsteps faded into the distance.

Then, General Sorrengail turned her sharp gaze onto Violet.

She sighed. “Now that he’s gone—Violet, tell me—”

But before she could finish, King Fen interrupted.

“General Sorrengail, this is absurd! How could you accuse your own daughter?”

The General barely spared him a glance before cutting in. “I am not accusing my daughter, Your Majesty.” Her voice was level, but firm. “I know my daughter well.”

King Fen opened his mouth again, likely to defend Violet—but General Sorrengail wasn’t finished.

She turned back to her daughter. “Hypothetically, Violet, if you did orchestrate the poisoning of the Viscount…” She leaned forward slightly. “When will he wake up?”

Xaden turned sharply to look at Violet.

Violet lowered her gaze to the floor, her voice quiet.

“Thursday.”

King Fen blinked. Xaden froze.

Gods. She did it.

A beat of silence.

Then, General Sorrengail sighed. “Two more days, then.”

But before anyone could fully process that, Violet lifted her head, met her mother’s gaze defiantly, and added, “Next week.”

Xaden saw it—the brief flicker of frustration in General Sorrengail’s expression before she schooled her features back into her usual controlled mask.

Mira remained perfectly poised, watching the exchange with quiet amusement.

Drake, on the other hand, was fighting a grin.

General Sorrengail exhaled slowly. “Is there an antidote?”

Violet stayed calm, her voice sweet and innocent when she said, “No. If—hypothetically—I orchestrated the poisoning, I would make sure there was no antidote. He will simply sleep it off.”

Xaden had never seen General Sorrengail close her eyes in frustration before. She did now.

Then, she opened them and turned to King Fen, Xaden, and Drake.

“Your Majesties,” she said, voice tight with control. “Please leave us for a moment while I talk to my daughters. And may I ask for Your Majesties to please keep this conversation within this group only.”

“You have our word General,” King Fen said and stood, Xaden and Drake followed.

Minutes passed before Mira and Violet finally joined them in the small sitting room.

Xaden flicked his hand to set up a ward around them, ensuring no one outside could hear.

Then, King Fen—who, rather than looking angry, looked downright amused—turned to Violet.

“Violet, dear,” he said, his tone far too entertained for the situation. “Tell me—why did you do it?”

Violet’s expression darkened.

“I know what my mother is doing,” she said, voice clipped. “She wants Mira to entertain suitors—just in time for that pigheaded Viscount to conveniently be here. She was smart…” Violet smirked. “But I’m smarter.”

Mira exhaled sharply. “Still, that was dangerous with Varrish snooping.”

Drake, however, grinned. “You’re a genius, Violet.”

Xaden was still utterly awed.

Violet Sorrengail was far more dangerous than anyone gave her credit for.

And he just might have fallen for her even harder.

-DRAKE-

Drake reached for Mira’s hand, intertwining their fingers with ease as he turned to King Fen, Xaden and Violet. “We’ll be going first.”

Violet smirked knowingly. “Oh? You’ll be spending twelve hours with her today?”

Drake smirked right back. “Two hours a day.”

Mira huffed. “We were in my mom’s office for an hour already.” She attempted to pull her hand away, but Drake simply tsked and held on tighter.

“That doesn’t count,” he said smoothly. “It has to be just the two of us.”

Mira exhaled in irritation. “Fine.”

Drake grinned in victory. “Thanks again, Violet.”

Violet waved at then. “I love you, Mira,”

Mira Scowled at her. “I hate you, Violet,”

Drake chuckled and he led Mira away, ignoring her suspicious glances.

Halfway down the hall, she tugged against his grip. “Where are we going?”

“To my room.”

Mira frowned, digging her heels in slightly. “Why?”

Drake didn’t answer, just kept leading her until they reached his door.

The moment he pushed it open, she folded her arms. “Drake, why your room?”

Leaning against the doorframe, he gave her his most charming grin. “Relax, Mira. I have paperwork from Poromiel I need to finish. I couldn’t concentrate earlier because I kept thinking about you.”

She blushed, glaring at him as if it was his fault for making her react. But she still stepped inside when he held the door open.

His room was standard for royals, a huge bed on one side, a sitting area with couches and office desk on the other. He pulled up a chair next to his own at the desk, patting it.

Mira eyed him skeptically. “So, I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you work?”

Drake leaned down beside her, brushing his fingers over her warm cheek. “Just for a little bit. Then we can take a walk.”

Mira rolled her eyes, but he could see the way her lips twitched—she wasn’t as annoyed as she pretended to be.

His gaze softened as he cups her beautiful face. “Did you eat breakfast?”

Her eyes widened slightly before flicking to the floor. “I did.”

Drake arched a brow. “What did you eat?”

“Yogurt with blueberries,” she said, crossing her arms. “Why do you want to know?”

He exhaled through his nose, brushing a light kiss against her forehead. “Because you’ve been avoiding me. I missed you. I want to know how your day is going.”

Mira pushed at his chest—lightly, not enough to actually make him move. “Just do your work.”

Drake chuckled, letting his hand drop. “Let’s have lunch after I’m done.”

Without waiting for a reply, he settled into his chair and got to work.

Mira let out a dramatic sigh before grabbing a book from his shelf, curling into her seat and flipping it open.

Drake smirked to himself.

Two hours of Mira all to himself for six days?

Best deal he’d made all week. 

Chapter Text

-DRAKE-

Chapter Text

-XADEN-

Xaden walked to the halls of the palace, voice low as he spoke with Bodhi, Garrick and Drake near the lounge.

"The numbers are still dropping," Garrick muttered grimly. “Dad said they lost another three riders yesterday. Imogen’s mom left with him this morning.”

Drake swore under his breath.

Bodhi just nodded, jaw tight. “We need to move faster on the flight plans. The longer we stay here drinking tea, the worse the front gets.”

Xaden could not agree more with Bodhi but something—rather someone was keeping him in Navarre. As much as he wanted to go to the front he wanted more time with Violet.

They were supposed to take the girls to lunch but Xaden and Drake were stuck in a meeting with Poromiel and Tyrrendor council, some of Navarre's lower leadership that council were privately sought were now expressing their support but they could not make drastic moves that might tip of the generals and King Tauri, who was still denying the existence of Venin. 

They pushed through the doors into the Legacies Lounge, the warmth of spiced tea and cinnamon bread filling the air, a deceptive contrast to the weight they carried on their shoulders.

Inside, familiar voices echoed and laughter filtered between the cushioned chairs and rich mahogany shelves.

Xaden’s gaze immediately found Violet—curled on one of the couches, legs tucked beneath her as she spoke with Mira. Her hair was in her usual crown braid, that stubborn little strand near her temple already falling out of place.

He sat beside her, settling back comfortably. His arm draped across the couch’s back, behind her shoulders but not touching her, not quite—not until she subtly leaned into it. They didn’t have to pretend with this crowd. Their friends knew.

Navarrian leadership? That was another story.

Drake slid onto the couch beside Mira, mirroring the move. Xaden saw the way Mira shot him a quick glance, like she hadn’t expected him to sit so close, but she didn’t move away either.

Everyone was here except Halden and Alic—which Xaden was quietly thankful for.

The air lightened as the conversation turned to their upcoming flight to the summer castle. Bodhi and Garrick casually joined conversation Cam, Ridoc, Sawyer, Liam, Rhi and Imogen, tossing out increasingly ridiculous suggestions for how they might waste time at the summer castle an their upcoming outings. They were invited to watch a theater, I has been years since Xaden gone into one, all of Tyrrendor were now focused on the war. 

As Xaden relaxed, his hand brushed Violet’s shoulder lightly. She didn’t flinch. Her voice mingled with Mira’s, both of them talking softly, heads leaned in.

Then the door creaked open.

Xaden’s body went rigid before he even turned. The bond didn’t warn him—but instinct did.

Alic.

He stormed in like he owned the place, whiskey in hand—whiskey, at three in the afternoon. His scowl landed first on Xaden before it was carefully tucked away under a smirk.

Xaden met his gaze coolly, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“Everything good on your business venture?” Sawyer asked lightly, probably just to cut the tension.

“Yeah,” Alic said too quickly, “everything’s fine.” Then he smirked wider, and added, “Actually, I’m stressed. Thought I’d unwind… and invite you boys to a little something.”

The entire room stilled just enough for the challenge to slide in.

“Boys’ night,” Alic said with a flourish. “No girls. Just the us.” The way he said it was like a challenge.

Xaden didn’t miss the pointed look Alic shot at Mira or Violet—Xaden was not sure before he looks at the boys in the room.

Cam shook his head. 

But Garrick shrugged. “Might be fun.”

Drake caught Xaden’s eye across the room. They both smirked.

If Alic thought either of them would back down from a challenge? He didn’t know them very well.

“We’re in,” Drake said coolly.

Xaden nodded, not looking away from Alic’s smug face.

Beside him, Violet stiffened. Xaden could feel the unease radiating off her. She turned toward him, eyes narrowing.

He brushed his knuckles down her cheek—subtle, reassuring.

I’ve got this. he said through the bond.

Violet didn't get to answer when Mira arms crossed to her chest. Her face was tight, eyes narrowed. She didn’t say a word.

Just turned on her heel and left. A beat later Drake was stood up to follow Mira. 

Alic laughed like he’d just won something.

Violet shot to her feet and smacked his arm with the book she’d been reading.

“Annoying,” she snapped under her breath, before following Mira.

Alic rubbed his arm with a wince but laughed harder.

Xaden’s face went cold.

He stood, Bodhi and Garrick rising beside him.

Alic raised his glass.  “See you later, we will leave after dinner.”

“Looking forward to it.” Xaden said flatly, voice like a blade. 

As they walked out of the lounge, Xaden reached for the bond—Violet, he called to her silently.

Blocked.

He clenched his jaw.

They were halfway down the hall with a confused Drake.

Garrick slowed, frowning. “Why do I feel like we just did something wrong?”

Drake exhaled. “Did we?,” he said grimly.

-DRAKE-

“We’re in,” Drake said, voice even, gaze locked on Alic across the room.

He didn’t expect Mira to scoff.

But she did.

Not just a little noise of disbelief—no, this was a full-blown, annoyed, pissed-the-hell-off scoff.

Drake’s stomach dropped. He felt her shift beside him on the couch, like she wanted to put as much space as possible between their bodies. What the fuck?

He turned to her. “Mira—”

But she wouldn’t look at him.

Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, lips pressed into a thin line. She stood so abruptly it jolted his heart a little.

Then she just… walked out of the lounge.

Gone.

Leaving him behind.

He blinked, confused and completely thrown. Did he miss something? One second, everything was fine, and the next, she was storming off like he’d just offered to date her worst enemy.

He stood immediately, following her out, ignoring Alic’s smug expression and the quiet murmurs around them.

“Mira, wait!” he called, catching sight of her down the hall, her shoulders squared, pace brisk. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you did something great,” she called back over her shoulder. “I hope you have fun.”

Her voice was sharp enough to slice. He froze in place, stunned. His heart beat a little too hard against his ribs.

She said no,... that he did great... but it sure as hell felt like a yes, he did something terrible.

A moment later, Violet swept past him with a determined scowl, eyes tracking her sister like a bloodhound. She didn’t even look at Drake.

Then came Garrick, Xaden, and Bodhi, joining him in the corridor just as the tension buzzed like an electric fence.

“Why do I feel like we just did something wrong?” Garrick muttered.

Yeah. That tracked.

After sometime, Xaden muttered something about being blocked, they retreated to the visitor’s wing—slumped in the lounge like a bunch of war generals after losing a battle they didn’t know they were fighting.

Drake leaned forward, hands laced together, brow furrowed so hard it might as well have been a scar.

“What the hell did we do?”

“I don’t know,” Bodhi said, looking at the ceiling like it might drop answers. “He said ‘boy’s night,’ we said ‘sure,’ no one died—yet.”

Garrick added, “It might maybe darts, some dumb game about who can shoot a bottle off a barrel with the worst aim.”

“Yeah,” Drake said, his voice low. “I was thinking some kind of don’t-get-drunk challenge. Nothing shady.”

Xaden nodded. “Same. I didn’t think it was some statement.”

But apparently, it was.

Drake stared at the wall, jaw tightening. He’d been looking forward to seeing Mira all day. His entire morning had been filled with flashes of her sleeping beside him on his couch just yesterday—head on his chest, her soft breathing against his throat.

That moment when he woke up and saw her eyes already open, looking at him like he was some kind of secret she didn’t want to admit she loved.

She smiled—barely—and he grinned wide, asking, “Sleep well?”

She nodded.

Then they went to dinner together. Walked back through the halls like they were untouchable.

And now?

Now she wouldn’t even look at him.

He rubbed a hand down his face. It was just yesterday, but it already felt like it belonged in another life.

She was pissed. And he didn’t know why.

And it killed him not knowing.

He changed into clean clothes for dinner and the so-called boy’s night as fast as he could. He didn’t care about the drinks or whatever game Alic had planned.

He just wanted to see Mira at dinner.

And hopefully—if she let him—walk her back to her room again before they leave.

He needed to fix this. He could not go back to square one with Mira now that they could be leaving Calldyr any minute if the front gets worst.

Felt like losing a piece of his goddamn heart.

-XADEN-

Tension so thick it could’ve been cut with a sword at dinner.

Xaden sat at the long table, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth, eyes fixed across the table where Violet sat between Mira and Cam. Not once did she look at him.

Not once.

It was deliberate, too.

Calculated.

Xaden felt it like a splinter in his soul. The bond between them didn’t lie—she was burning hot with emotion, and she was blocking him. Not fully, but enough to keep him out. Enough to keep him from knowing why.

And that? That was worse than any wound.

He’d rather take a dozen punches from Garrick than sit through this silent war.

He glanced at Drake across the table, who looked just as tense. His gaze hadn’t left Mira since they sat down. She was avoiding him too, posture stiff, mouth tight. 

Were they mad because they weren’t invited?

Maybe they should’ve invited them.

Hell, Xaden would’ve thrown the whole thing out if he’d known it would make Violet this upset.

Mid-bite, Violet and Mira stood, clearly done with their food—and with the company. They didn’t even say goodbye.

Xaden shoved back his chair at the same time Drake did, both of them rising like they were synchronized soldiers. They weren’t going to let them leave like this. Not without fixing it. Not without walking them back. That was their thing. Their routine.

Their time.

They followed the sisters quickly down the hallway outside the dining hall. The echoes of their boots felt too loud, like guilt clanging off stone floors.

“Mira,” Drake said, reaching forward, wrapping his hand gently around her wrist.

She froze, not looking back.

“Violet,” Xaden called softly, catching her wrist in his own grip, gentle but firm. Her skin was warm and tense beneath his fingers. “Did you want to come with us? Is that it?”

He had to know. If this was just a misunderstanding—if she was upset because they’d excluded her, he’d fix it. Right now.

But Violet turned to him, eyes flashing. “No.”

His heart dropped. “Then what is it? Why are you pissed?”

“I’m not,” she snapped. “It’s nothing!”

Clearly, it wasn’t nothing.

She was glowing with frustration, jaw tight, every movement rigid. Her voice said “nothing,” but her heartbeat told a different story—he could feel it.

“Violet,” he said softly, stepping closer, voice near a plea, “if it’s really nothing… then give me a kiss.”

Just one. He needed that connection back. Needed to know she still wanted him, not this version she was pushing away.

But Violet stepped back like he’d burned her.

“It's fine Xaden, just go and enjoy,” she whispered sharply, not meeting his eyes.

Then, without another word, she reached for Mira’s hand, tugging her away down the hall.

Xaden watched them go, helpless, gutted. Mira didn’t even glance at Drake.

Behind them, the unwelcome sound of smugness slithered in:

“You boys ready to go?” Alic asked, hands in his pockets, that insufferable smirk on his face.

Drake’s fists curled.

Xaden didn’t even turn to look at Alic. His eyes stayed fixed on the hall where Violet had vanished.

He could still feel the heat of her wrist in his palm.

And the hollow ache she left behind.

***

They stepped off the carriages into the pulsing heart of a district Xaden didn’t recognize—dim mage-lights flickering like candle flames in deep shades of violet and blue, music blasting like thunder down the cobblestone streets. The air buzzed with chaos: bodies dancing too close, laughter echoing sharp and wild, the sour-sweet stench of churam heavy in the air.

He already hated it.

He shot a look at Drake, who looked just as uncomfortable, jaw clenched. Garrick and Bodhi followed behind them, eyes wary, while Ridoc looked like he was trying to convince himself this was going to be fun.

Alic walked ahead like a king returning to his den.

The bastard led them through the main doors into an establishment drenched in noise and haze—music thrummed through the walls, bodies moved on the dancefloor, women and men tangled in each other. On the edges of the room, more people smoked churam, cloaked in shadows and secrets.

What the fuck is this place?

Alic grinned, gesturing toward a private booth tucked in the corner. "C’mon boys. Drinks on me."

They sat.

The lighting was low, flickering over plush seating, and drinks arrived within seconds—carried by maids in tiny, barely-there outfits. Xaden blinked, confused. Why the fuck were they dressed like that?

The girls smiled as they handed them drinks. Xaden took his but didn’t drink yet. He glanced at Garrick, who was mid-sip, then at Ridoc, who asked, “Where’s Sawyer?”

“With his girl, Jesinia,” Ridoc replied, tossing a peanut into his mouth.

Xaden envied the hell out of him.

He had someone he'd rather be with tonight.

So did Xaden—but she was avoiding him. And this? This wasn’t what he thought “boys’ night” meant. He just wanted to finish whatever challenge Alic had set so he could return to Violet as fast as possible.

Alic was laughing, clearly having the time of his life, already waving over a pipe of churam, offering it around like it was some sacred ritual. Xaden declined, he needed a clear mind to whatever the challenge was and he was not sure if Violet would like it if he took some churam.

He kept looking at the door, wondering how long this was going to take.

And then it started.

A new group of women filtered in—barely dressed, hips swaying, perfume thick in the air. They zeroed in on the boys like heat-seeking arrows.

Xaden felt it before he saw her—soft fingers sliding across his chest, a mouth too close to his ear.

“Hey, handsome,” she purred.

He jerked away instantly. “Don’t touch me.”

She laughed lightly, thinking he was playing.

He wasn’t.

Xaden turned his head—and froze. They were surrounded. One girl was already perched on Garrick’s lap, whispering something in his ear. Ridoc had a girl dancing up against him, and Liam looked stunned stiff while another trailed her hands along his arms. Bodhi had one on his side, fingers teasing his shirt collar.

And Drake?

Drake had two.

Both touching his arms, his neck.

Oh, hell no.

Drake stood abruptly, voice cutting sharp through the noise. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch me.”

Everything in Xaden’s body went tight.

This is why Violet and Mira were pissed.

He understood now. They knew. They knew Alic would pull this stunt. They knew this wasn’t just some drinking challenge or game of some drinks and dart. This was a trap.

An ambush.

A test.

Xaden stood too, shrugging off the woman still clinging to his arm.

“I said no,” he growled.

He turned, eyes already locked on Alic—who was leaned back like a smug bastard, arms wrapped around three women, laughing like the whole world was a joke.

Xaden stalked straight to him.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t warn.

He grabbed Alic by the collar and slammed his fist into his face.

The women screamed and scattered.

Alic hit the floor with a grunt, spitting blood, one hand going to his jaw.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Xaden snarled, standing over him, disgust twisting in his gut. “This is why Violet was pissed? This is what you planned?”

Alic laughed, voice hoarse and smug. “Yeah. It was a fucking test. And you failed, Riorson.”

Xaden’s blood roared.

“You can forget, whatever it is going on between you two,” Alic went on, still smiling through his swelling jaw. “She was so pissed. Good luck getting on her good side again.”

That was it.

Xaden grabbed him again and slammed him against the wall, his fist driving into Alic’s ribs, then his face again. The wall cracked with the force.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Xaden snarled, barely recognizing his own voice.

Alic groaned, then coughed out, “Know your place, Riorson. You belong in Tyrrendor. Violet belongs to Navarre, she is with us! You are just visiting once the summit ends… she’ll forget about—”

Crack.

Another punch cut him off.

Xaden saw red. Over and over again, his fists drove into the bastard’s face, his gut, his jaw. All he could think of was Violet’s face when she pulled away from him earlier—hurt, betrayed.

Because of this.

Because of him.

Alic spat blood and kept laughing through it, and that only made it worse.

Until finally, hands grabbed Xaden from behind—Liam, Garrick, Bodhi. Pulling him back.

“Xaden! Stop, that’s enough—he’s done!”

He shook them off, panting, fury still burning through his veins. Alic slumped to the floor, dazed, bloodied, and still smirking.

Xaden looked down at him.

And made a vow.

Once the summit ends Violet is coming home with him. Alic Tauri won’t touch her. Alic won’t ever come near her again.

And if Alic ever tried?

He’d finish what he started.

-DRAKE-

They arrived at the “venue” in carriages—already too much for a casual outing.

The moment Drake stepped inside, he knew something was off.

Dim mage lights flickered across smoky air. Music pounded from the walls, thick and sensual. Bodies writhed on a dance floor, some practically attached at the hips. In the corners, people passed churam pipes like offerings, laughter wild and hazy.

Drake’s mouth tightened.

This wasn’t what he signed up for.

Alic strutted ahead like a fucking peacock, leading them to a private booth in the corner. The second they sat, women in tight, revealing outfits floated in like butterflies drawn to flames. The drinks arrived quickly, and so did the unease.

Garrick asked about Sawyer. Ridoc said he was with Jesinia.

Smart man.

Drake tried to shake it off. Maybe Alic had one round of drinks, a stupid challenge, maybe a game of darts planned.

Then they arrived.

The second wave.

Women in even skimpier clothing, eyes trained on them. No subtlety. No hesitation.

A hand slid up his thigh.

Another curled around his bicep.

“What the—?” Drake stood abruptly, swatting both women away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

One blinked, almost offended. “Don’t you want to have fun with us?”

“No.”

Drake looked around. It was the same everywhere. Women crawling all over Garrick, Ridoc, Liam, Bodhi. Touching, dancing, whispering. Like they were props in Alic’s twisted little fantasy.

He moved to Ridoc pulled him by his arm. “What the fuck is this?”

“Uhm... a boys night out?” Ridoc said looking puzzled.

“Boy's night out includes women?”

“Yeah? What do you expect? When Alic arranged the night out there is always women...” Ridoc trails off then adds “Oh fuck! We thought you knew...”

And that’s when it clicked. He let go of Ridoc.

They knew. Mira knew what happens in these boy's night.

She knew Alic would pull something like this. That’s why she was pissed. Why Violet stormed off. They warned them in their own way, and he—he hadn’t listened. He said we’re in like an idiot, without asking questions.

Guilt cracked through his chest.

He shoved another hand off his arm and stalked through the room, looking for Alic. 

He found Xaden first.

The enraged Xaden had the bastard Alic by the collar, then punched him so hard he flew backward and hit the floor.

Gasps filled the room. Women scattered.

Drake didn’t stop it. Didn’t want to.

Xaden pinned him to the wall, fists flying, every blow drenched in fury. “This is why Violet was pissed?” he roared.

Alic’s smirk only made it worse. “Yeah. It was a fucking test. And you failed, Riorson.” They all failed.

Drake wanted to punch him too. His own hands curled at his sides.

All he could think of was Mira’s eyes that afternoon, the way she looked at him when he slid beside her, the way she poured milk on his tea just like how he wanted his tea, the way she unconsciously brushed his curls out of his eyes like he was hers. And he threw it away by following a smug asshole to a place like this.

Garrick, Liam and Bodhi tried pulling Xaden off. Drake didn’t move.

He just stared at Alic bleeding on the floor.

And felt sick.

This was supposed to be a casual night. A distraction.

Instead, it proved one thing Alic never wanted to peace for the Navarre, Poromiel and Tyrrendor, he saw that they have gotten close with the others.

He wanted to split them apart—starting with Mira and Violet.

And Drake?

He just played right into it.

He turned and stormed out the establishment.

He needed to see Mira.

He needed to fix this.

Because if she looked at him tomorrow with that same coldness in her eyes…

He wasn’t sure he could take it.

It took all five of them to pull Xaden off.

Even then, Drake could see the rage simmering just beneath the surface of his friend’s clenched jaw, the way Xaden’s chest heaved, fists trembling even though Garrick and Bodhi had him in a firm hold. Blood dripped from Xaden’s knuckles, his breath ragged. He looked like he wanted to kill.

Alic, though?

Still smirking.

His face was wrecked—split lip, black eye swelling shut, blood pouring from his nose—but he still had that smug, princely look like he’d won something. Like this had been the point all along.

“And you Cordella, give up! Mira will never like a flier like you. Mira belongs to Halden, they are the future of Navarre.”

Drake’s vision tunneled. The fury that had been sitting, boiling low in his gut since Mira walked away earlier roared to life.

He took a step forward.

And kicked Alic—hard. 

Once in the gut. “Mira.”

Alic let out a gasp.

Twice. “Is.”

The bastard wheezed.

Third time. “Mine.”

“Drake, enough!” Liam grunted, grabbing him from behind, Ridoc moving in fast to help pull him back. “You’ll set off a war if this gets to King Tauri!”

Drake spat on the floor, chest heaving. “And you think my mother—or Xaden’s father—will just stand by after what this prick prince pulled?”

Alic coughed, trying to sit up, blood dripping from his mouth.

Drake’s voice was low, lethal. “He tricked us into something we didn’t want. I could have had those women killed for touching me without permission. I could also demand a clause on our peace treaty to have you work for Poromiel, so don't fucking test me.”

Alic’s smirk faltered. He turned seething, finally rattled.

No he is scared. Good.

Drake looked at Cam who just got to the  scene. “Get your brother away from us, if you want peace.”

Cam nodded silently and helped his brother up, dragging him toward the exit. Ridoc and Liam exchanged a look then glance at the crowd—let them talk about the brawl. Alic started this. They all knew it. 

Chapter Text

-DRAKE-

When they returned to the palace, the air was thick, silent.

Xaden’s hands were covered in blood—raw and cracked—and Drake’s boots and pants were stained red. His heart was still pounding, not from the fight, but from something worse. He needed to explain, she must be confused now, he was actively trying to win her heart only for Alic to invite him to a night out that meant to have fun with women.

He climbed the stairs two at a time, not caring about the mess he looked like, not caring who saw. He needed to see her. Now.

Behind him, Xaden did the same, headed straight for Violet’s tower.

Drake reached her door and knocked—sharp, fast, desperate.

“Mira,” he called, voice rough.

The door opened a crack, then wide—and gods.

She stood there in a black silk camisole and those impossibly short shorts that had his mouth drying instantly. Drake's eyes roamed to her long, toned legs, the gentle curves of her collarbones, the soft sweep of her shoulders—all of it caught the low mage light behind her and painted her in something damn near celestial.

Her brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?” Then her eyes dropped to his pants and boots. “Is that blood?”

He forgot what he was going to say.

He swallowed hard. Focus, you idiot.

Before he could answer, Violet’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Xaden? What happened—are you hurt?”

Mira instinctively stepped out, concerned.

Drake gently caught her wrist, stopping her. “Don’t,” he said, voice low. “I don’t want him to see you like this.”

She blinked at him. The confusion on her face didn’t hide the concern in her eyes.

“What happened?” she asked again.

Drake listened—Xaden’s heavy footsteps, Violet’s door opening, then closing.

“There was a brawl between Alic and Xaden then I... sort of lost it too, ” he said simply, voice steady now.

Mira exhaled like she’d been holding her breath the whole time. “Oh gods,” she whispered. “Get inside.”

He didn’t wait for her to change her mind.

The moment she stepped back, Drake walked into her room, the familiar scent of jasmine around him like a balm. He didn’t care that his clothes were a mess or that he probably looked like a barbarian straight out of a tavern brawl.

He needed her to understand, he was not playing around, she is it for him.

-XADEN-

He didn’t care that his knuckles were split and bloody, or that every step made his hand throb in time with his racing heart. All he could focus on was the hallway ahead of him—Violet’s door, just ten steps more.

He knocked once. Twice. The second the door opened, he forgot the pain altogether.

Gods.

Violet stood there, her hair loose around her shoulders—those silvery tips shimmering under the low mage light. She was wearing a black nightgown that clung to her like second skin, and he forgot how to breathe.

How had he ever let Alic trick him into that night? How could he be so reckless when she existed?

But instead of glaring at him the way she did earlier in the war room, her eyes softened instantly with concern.

“Xaden? What happened?” she asked, eyes wide, voice soft. “Are you hurt?”

Before he could answer, she was reaching for his hand. Her small fingers wrapped around his broken knuckles, her concern like a balm that burned and soothed all at once.

“I’ve had worse,” he murmured, voice low, gaze fixed on her. Physically had worse but it is nothing compared to you thinking I went out to have fun with other women.

She sighed, tugging him inside her room. He’d been here once before—barely. Just long enough to drop off a stack of books on her desk. But now that he was standing in the center of her room, it seem more intimate.

A four-poster bed with a soft canopy, draped in deep purple silk that shimmered like Andarna’s scales—fitting. Books and parchments scattered across a desk by the window. An opened chest at the foot of her bed where all her daggers were stored. Four tall bookshelves, all packed. A small sitting area with two chairs and a low table. A door just beside her bed, slightly ajar, leading to what must be her bath.

Every inch of the space was her. Fierce and thoughtful and too damn beautiful for words.

She led him to the chairs, then disappeared briefly. When she returned, she had a basin of water and a wash cloth. She knelt in front of him, gently wiping the blood from his knuckles.

He winced at the touch, not from pain, but from the weight of everything he couldn’t say.

“What happened, Xaden?” she asked again, her voice quieter.

He exhaled, long and low. “When we got there, there were women who… anyway, I got angry. I confronted Alic—he arrange something like that when he knew I'm seeing you. Clearly he wanted to cause trouble… he said things. I lost it.”

He paused, embarrassed. “We fought. Well—I punched him. He didn’t really get to come at me.”

Violet didn’t speak. She just kept cleaning the blood from his hand, her eyes focused.

“I remember you told me not to kill him,” he added with a quiet, dark chuckle. “Well… he’s still breathing. But if there were no consequences…”

He trailed off. No need to finish that sentence.

“We thought boys’ night meant drinking. Maybe some friendly challenges. We don’t have that kind of stuff in Tyrrendor or Poromiel,” he admitted, his voice strained. “It was our fault. We didn’t ask.”

But what he didn’t say—what he couldn’t quite explain—was that in Tyrrendor and Poromiel, there’s no room for lighthearted fun. No dancing. No flirting in bars. Just Venin. Just death. Just war. He watched her frown, lips pressed in thought, as if sensing all the unsaid things between his words.

Then she said quietly, “It’s fine, Xaden. It’s not like we’re…”

She hesitated.

“It’s not like we’re what?” he asked, his chest tightening.

She sighed. “Like we’re officially together.”

The words landed like a blow harder than any Alic could’ve thrown. So that’s what she thought? That because they weren’t “official,” he could fool around?

Xaden shook his head firmly. “No it is not fine. There is no one else, Violet. Official or not. I don’t plan to play around. You’re mine. And I’m yours. If you’d only let me, I’d tell the whole continent that.”

Her eyes lifted to his. A smile tugged at her lips, soft and small, but enough. 

“I am yours. You are mine.” he whispered, cupping her cheeks. 

Violet nodded, brushing her nose against his. “I am, you just can't tell the whole continent yet.”

Xaden grinned at her satisfied, as she resumed tending to his hand. The blood had mostly stopped, and now she was revealing the real damage—bruised, cracked knuckles that made her crinkle her nose in concern.

“You need to see a healer,” she said. “There’s one in the infirmary.”

Xaden shook his head. “Alic’s there. If I saw him again tonight, Violet, I might actually kill him.”

“Don’t worry,” he adds gently. “We have General Aisereigh. He’s a mender.”

Violet stiffened. “He’s a mender?”

Xaden nodded then he diverted his eyes. He wished he could tell her that’s Brennan, her brother. But it wasn’t his place. That secret wasn’t his to spill.

Her expression faltered just a little, and he could feel another wedge forming between them—one he desperately wanted to stop before it grew.

So he asked quietly, “Violet… I have to know. Are you still mad I went with Alic?”

She looked at him like he was the dumbest male alive. “Xaden, I wouldn’t be cleaning your bloody wounds—or let you in here—if I'm still mad at you.”

“Well you haven't said the words, do you even like me?” He already knew she does but he wants her to say it.

“I do. Again you won't be here if I don't... I like you Xaden.”

He smiled, something easing in his chest, and leaned forward to kiss her.

It was soft. Slow. Like a promise being written with lips instead of words.

When he pulled back, he teased, “I thought you just liked kissing me.”

Violet laughed, eyes shining. “I do like kissing you.”

“You’re mine?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, lips brushing his. “Yours.”

She kissed him again.

“…and I’m yours.”

Another kiss.

“Secret for now.”

A longer kiss.

“Soon they will all know…” he murmured against her mouth, “…it’ll be written in history.”

-DRAKE-

As the door clicked softly behind him, Drake stood still, letting his eyes sweep across Mira’s room—and gods, he could not believe she'd let him in.

The first thing he noticed was the large bed, its dark wood headboard carved with intricate detail that looked old and regal. The bedding was rich—luxurious—silk duvet that shimmered in the soft mage light and a sea of blush-pink pillows, all perfectly arranged. It was plush and inviting and somehow more intimate than anything he'd seen before.

To the side sat a baby grand piano—delicate, beautiful. Did she play? That image alone had his heart clenching.

A sleek writing desk and chair stood under the window, papers and books stacked with purpose. On the opposite wall, a sitting area with two armchairs and a low marble table faced a tall, built-in bookshelf brimming with hardbound volumes, some clearly read many times. A stately armoire stood tall in the corner—elegant, but likely hiding not gowns, but weapons.

There was another door to the right of the bed, probably leading to the bathroom. The whole space screamed power and elegance, comfort and danger—a room fit for a princess, but made for a warrior.

Fit for Mira.

Drake suddenly looked down at his boots, stained and splattered with blood. Fuck.

"You fought with Alic?" Mira asked quietly, drawing his gaze back to her.

“Yes.” He stepped forward, careful not to ignite her ire. “Mira, believe me—I didn’t know. I didn’t know that boys’ night out meant…” He hesitated, watching her. “Meant women that… touch you—”

Her brow lifted.

Fuck.

“I mean, as soon as I felt those women touch me, I brushed them off. I told them not to. I—I didn’t let them.” His hands found her arms gently, needing her to feel the sincerity in him, the truth in his voice. “I didn’t know what kind of place it was, Mira. We don’t have places like that in Poromiel.”

She said nothing, just watched him. Calm. Too calm. That damn brow still raised like it was interrogating him on its own.

“We thought it would just be drinking. Maybe some stupid challenges—like who could get the most drunk and still beat everyone at darts. I don’t back out of a challenge. That’s all I thought it was.” His voice dipped, earnest. “I didn’t go there to have fun with other women.”

Mira tilted her head slightly thinking then she said “That doesn’t explain the blood on your boots.”

Drake sighed, glancing down again at the evidence. “Well… Xaden and Alic got into it first. Alic said some things—personal things that pushed Xaden over the edge. They were fighting. I tried to stop it, but…”

He looked at her again.

“He said things to me… I was already furious. The whole thing—the trap, the disrespect. I lost it for a second. I kicked him. Few times.”

“Where is Alic now?” Mira asked quietly.

“Cam and Ridoc helped him in the infirmary,” he replied.

Drake watched her exhale, deep and tired, and braced himself for the fallout he knew he deserved, he did not expect what she would asked next, “Were you hurt?” 

She was worried.

Drake smiled sheepishly shook his head, “It is Alic's blood.”

Then, needing her to hear it—to feel it—he added, “Tell me you understand, Mira. Please don’t get confused… I want you. Only you.”

She flushed, the color blooming all the way down to her chest, and gods, it nearly unraveled him. He suddenly became aware of how close they were, how the air between them buzzed with something fierce and unspoken. His eyes flicked to her lips—full, pink, and so damn enticing.

Slowly, giving her the chance to stop him, he leaned in.

She didn’t pull away.

When his lips met hers, it was like something inside him broke free.

He kissed her like a man starved, his hand cradling her cheek as their mouths moved with a hunger that had been simmering for too long.

When he pulled back, their foreheads touched, and his breath was ragged.

“I can’t help it… You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time now.”

And to his absolute surprise—relief, hope—Mira kissed him back.

He deepened it instantly, pressing her gently against the wall, feeling her fingers curl into his shirt. This—this—was everything. Like an answered prayer, a dream made real.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Mira!”

Drake froze. Halden. Of course Halden would ruin their moment.

His jaw clenched as he pulled away, annoyed. “Why is Halden knocking on your door at this hour?”

“I don’t know,” Mira said, stepping toward the door.

“I’ll get it,” Drake said, already turning with every intention of driving the him back down the stairs.

But Mira stopped him. “No. Just stay here, it'll be quick.” she said, placing a hand on his chest and leading him back to the couch.

Drake hesitated, then grabbed the throw blanket folded on the backrest and handed it to her. “Cover up first,” he said, trying not to think of the things he would do to Halden if he saw her in just silk camisole and shorts. He never felt this possessive to anyone before and the more he got to be with Mira the worst it gets.

She rolled her eyes, but obeyed. Thank the gods.

He watched her disappear into the hallway, the door closing softly behind her. The quiet that followed stretched forever. Minutes ticked by, and Drake sat on her couch, tension buzzing through his muscles.

Finally, the door opened again. Mira walked in, smiling slightly… and holding a tub of ice cream.

“What does he want?” Drake asked, already suspicious.

“Nothing. He just brought me ice cream and left.”

Drake scoffed. “He brought you ice cream? Why?”

“It’s something we do. We usually share a tub when one of us isn’t feeling great. But since you’re here… I couldn’t let him in.”

Drake’s brow twitched. “And you won’t let him in from now on.”

Mira sighed, but didn’t answer.

That didn’t sit well. Not at all. What if Halden came back? What if Mira let him in?

No. Not happening. 

“I’m sleeping here. Just to make sure he doesn’t come back.” he announced as he stood and pulled his shirt over his head, then kicked off his boots.

Mira blinked. “What? That’s not necessary,” she said as he unbuttoned his pants, pulling them off with little ceremony. 

He was just in his boxers, she made an effort not to look below his chest but she peeked once.

“Mira,” he said, glancing back with a crooked grin, “I haven’t even spent my two hours with you today. I told you I don't care if we are sleeping as long as you are with me.”

“That was a nap. This is different.”

“Still sleeping, you're always in my dream anyway,” he said, climbing into her bed. It was soft—obscenely comfortable—and smelled like her. He felt instantly better.

Mira chewed her bottom lip, and damn it, that made his thoughts stray.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, voice husky. “It’s tempting. We’re just sleeping.”

“Just sleeping,” Mira echoed, her voice soft but clear as she finally climbed into bed beside him.

The bed was massive for two people—to his disappointment—and she kept her distance, staying close to the edge.

Drake smirked to himself, he patted his chest and said casually, “You can sleep here.”

Mira shot him a look, brow arched in disbelief. “This is not a couch. No hugging needed.”

He chuckled. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He shifted, folding his arms behind his head, the muscles in his biceps stretching beneath his skin.

He caught her watching.

Her gaze lingered, slow and unguarded, and damn, that did something to him. So this was what she liked, huh? his arms. He flexed deliberately, just to test the theory.

Mira swallowed, and then—gods help him—bit her lip.

He grinned smugly. “You're staring, Vicious, I thought we're just sleeping.” he teased, low and taunting.

Mira huffed, rolled her eyes, and promptly turned away, curling up under the silk duvet like he wasn’t already in her head. But Drake knew better. That look—that reaction—would be seared into his memory for the next century.

Still, despite the distance, despite the teasing, Drake wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d be getting.

The first hour passed with him lying there in silence, eyes drifting between the door and Mira’s peaceful form. He waited, tense, half-expecting Halden to show his smug face again. If he did, Drake was ready to toss him off the balcony.

But the hallway stayed quiet.

Eventually, Mira’s breathing evened out. Her shoulders relaxed. She was asleep.

Drake waited a little longer just to be sure. Then—carefully, reverently—he scooted closer and pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arm around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Mira murmured something unintelligible and curled closer, arms snug around his torso.

Gods.

Drake smiled, eyes fluttering closed as peace settled over him for the first time since this afternoon when she scoffed at him. Again Mira fit against him perfectly, like she belonged nowhere else.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, breathing her in.

Alic was fucking wrong, Mira does not belong to Halden, she is not the future of Navarre.

And just before sleep claimed him, he whispered into the dark, to the goddess he’d stopped praying to a long time ago—

“Amari, Thank you.”

-XADEN-

He tried. He really tried to talk Violet out of coming with him. Said it was just a quick visit to get his hand mended, that she should rest. But Violet being Violet? She insisted. Stubborn as ever, beautiful as always, and completely unmoved by his attempts to protect her from the tension that was definitely going to be waiting in that room.

And so, they entered the visitors’ lounge together—Violet’s hand wrapped around Xaden’s forearm like a silent declaration.

As expected, the room was already occupied.

Brennan, Garrick, Bodhi, Liam and his father, seated at the head of the room like this was a damn war council.

The moment they stepped in, Brennan’s jaw ticked hard.

Xaden saw it. Felt it but he didn’t care.

Let him tick. Let him grind his teeth down to the bone. He was the one hiding his identity from his family, not Xaden.

King Fen stood when he saw the state of Xaden’s hand. “You okay, son?”

Xaden didn’t look at his hand. He looked at Violet.

“I’m okay now,” he said, meaning every word.

Fen’s eyes flicked between them, then nodded with a slight smile, he stepped forward to pat Xaden's shoulder, “Garrick told me what happened,” he said as he stepped back. “This is a direct disrespect to your position as Prince of Tyrrendor. I will personally talk to Tauri about this.”

Xaden led Violet to the couch and sat, pulling her down with him until she was snug against his side. Like he wasn’t ever letting her go. Because he wasn’t.

“It might’ve been my fault,” Violet said quietly.

Xaden turned his head, eyes sharp. “It’s not your fault. He planned this.”

“Yeah. Because of me,” she insisted, her voice flat but edged with guilt.

“It’s not your fault Alic is jealous and a prick,” Liam offered from across the room.

“Not your fault we didn’t know what a ‘boys' night out’ meant in Calldyr,” Garrick added, tossing Xaden a wry look.

“We thought it was just some dumb drinking challenge,” Bodhi muttered. “Like chugging flamefruit whiskey and throwing darts at a map.”

Xaden’s lips twitched. He didn’t smile often, but… gods, he was grateful for his friends.

Brennan knelt in front of him and took his hand. His fingers were gentle, his power not so much. It sparked sharply under his skin.

Xaden winced. “You doing that on purpose?”

Brennan didn’t answer. “You need to stay still,” he said with that clipped tone of his. But the steel in his jaw told Xaden everything—he was doing it on purpose because Violet was here, tugged on Xaden's side hugging one of his forearm, worried about his busted knuckles.

Xaden locked eyes with him. A silent, unbothered challenge. He’d let Brennan spar with him later, he'd endure worse pain if it meant he could stay with Violet. 

“You’re not mad at my Xaden now, are you, Violet?” Fen asked, glancing between them with a hopeful grin.

Violet blinked, then smirked slightly. “No. We’re good.”

“Thank the gods,” Fen exhaled dramatically. “Who knows, you might poison him too.”

Brennan, Bodhi, Liam and Garrick stilled.

“Poison?” Brennan asked, finally looking up from Xaden’s hand.

Xaden tensed, but Violet didn’t flinch. She looked directly at Brennan—for the first time, really looked at him—and said coolly, “Yes, I orchestrated the Viscount’s poisoning. He hurt my sister, and I promise to destroy him.”

Brennan blinked, he looked proud, then asked calmly, “Did you use pokeweed?”

Xaden’s brows lifted. Is he really talking to her sister about poison?

Violet’s eyes narrowed. “You know poisons?”

Brennan nodded once. “Basic ones. Pokeweed are lethal depending on the amount you use. You must be knowledgeable you have to be precise with the dose to make him sleep but not kill him.”

Violet smiled slowly that made Xaden's nervous, “I am, that is why Major Varrish was adamant though he could find evidence.”

“How...” Garrick chimed in, clearly alarmed, “did you manage to poison him without poisoning everyone else? And with no trace?”

Violet smiled sweetly. Dangerously. “Cross me and you’ll find out.”

Liam, across the room, muttered under his breath, “You're kind of terrifying.”

“Thank you.” Violet said with a grin. 

Xaden just looked at her, heart thudding harder in his chest.

Gods help him, he was in love with the deadliest woman in the room.

-VIOLET-

The breakfast table was quiet, save for the occasional clink of porcelain as Violet stirred her tea. The sunlight filtering through the tall windows should’ve felt warm and peaceful, but Violet was running on about two hours of sleep, and peace was a distant concept after the chaos of the night before.

Alic’s “boys' night out” had been anything but harmless. The fallout had landed squarely on Xaden—his knuckles bruised and busted. Of course, Violet had insisted on taking him to their mender, General Aisereigh, despite Xaden’s attempts to talk her out of it. She needed to be there. To make sure he was okay.

Going with him was good choice because she had learned more—just not the kind of answers she’d expected.

General Aisereigh—their mender—had been a puzzle. It was the first time they’d really spoken. 

Violet was convinced General Aisereigh was not from Tyrrendor though he speaks Tyrish his accent was somewhat familiar. When she told him about poisoning the Viscount with pokeweed, she expected wariness or disapproval like Suri. Instead, he’d looked almost… proud? He also knew pokeweed which is endemic in Luceras, he calimed he only knew basic poisons but pokeweed was not basic—unless he buys from illegal sources he shouldn't be familiar with pokeweed. 

Tyrrendor didn’t have that kind of fun, Xaden had said. Not like the carefree drinking and womanizing Alic and Halden indulged in. It wasn’t judgment. It was quiet resignation. Like fun was a luxury, a thing they couldn’t afford—not even for the Prince of Tyrrendor.

She’d grown up watching Halden and Alic flaunt their escapades like trophies. When she’d gone out with them, she’d often watched women fall over themselves for the chance to be near them. Even Cam sometimes got swept into it. But Drake? Xaden? They didn’t know the rules of that game.

What kind of life did they live in Tyrrendor, in Poromiel, that even fun had to be sacrificed? 

Why does General Aisereigh pretend he is from Tyrrendor? Why does talking to him feels so familiar.

What were they hiding? Does our mother know?

She had too many questions, by the time Xaden had walked her back to her room last night, her mind had been a chaotic swirl of suspicion and the ghost of a smirk on Xaden’s lips when they agreed to be in an exclusive relationship, another thing she needs to tell Mira.

Violet’s eyes drifted toward the door. It was almost eight in the morning. Mira still hadn’t shown up.

Her sister was never late. Being on time for breakfast was one of General Sorrengail's rule for her daughters.

Violet tapped her fingers against the edge of her cup, unease settling in. She wanted to talk to Mira about her theories and her latest relationship status before their mother arrived. 

She sighed and stood. If Mira wasn’t coming, she was going to go get her.

As she made her way down the hallway toward Mira’s room, her thoughts were still half on her suspicion on General Aisereigh when—

The door to Mira’s room opened.

And out walked Drake Cordella. In last night’s outfit. Hair tousled, looking like he’d just rolled out of a very comfortable bed.

Violet stopped in her tracks, mouth falling open.

Drake grinned, unbothered. “Good morning, Violet.”

She stared at him, too stunned to reply, mentally preparing for the long debrief she will have with Mira.

Drake paused beside her and added casually, “Mira’s getting ready for breakfast. We overslept.” Then he winked.

Violet blinked as he walked past her, whistling lightly like he hadn’t just detonated a social bomb in the middle of their polished, Sorrengail life.

“Oh my gods,” she breathed, finally remembering how to inhale.