Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

" W ake up, Princess!"

I cough as I open my eyes, surprised to find Dasinth hovering over me. Fire and smoke fills the air around me, smothering the pretty roses that sit beside my bed. It burns the back of my throat as I look up at Dasinth, his face covered in shadows, my family's gold moon crest gleaming on his red helm and chestplate.

Panic coils through me, Dasinth is the captain of my father's guard and his most trusted advisor.

Why is Dasinth in my room?

"We must hurry if you wish to live," he whispers, pulling me from my bed by the arm. "Come quickly!"

I'm too shocked to make a noise. My guards are not allowed to touch me let alone enter my room unless my life is in danger. Not even Dasinth, who is more like an uncle to me than a guard, has entered my room before. He throws a red dressing gown over my small shoulders and a pair of fur-lined slippers onto my feet. Briefly his eyes meet mine, and I see something in them that makes me tremble. Fear.

"Where are we going, Dasinth? Where is Mama and Papa?"

"You must follow and keep quiet, Princess." He drags me outside into a corridor filled with thick black smoke. Screams and cries echo around me as the warm ground shakes below my feet, but he doesn't stop. "Do not let go of my hand now."

"But why?" My small, shaking legs scurry after him. "Where are you taking me?"

I stumble as I try to keep up with him. He does not answer me. I glance over my shoulder, searching for my parents' bedchamber, but it's too dark to see anything, the smoke too thick. I'm scared.

"I want Mama," I cry out. "Papa!"

I scratch at Dasinth's hand, trying to break free from his grasp. Dasinth tightens his grip as he drags me into another long corridor—one filled with black flames and even louder screams. I stop smacking his hand then, suddenly very aware of what's happening around me.

The palace, my home, is on fire.

Tears race down my cheeks as I run with Dasinth through the chaos, no longer resisting him. Black flames crackle and hiss around us, licking their way up the walls of the stone corridors. Even the courtyard outside is consumed by the dark flames. I cry as I take in the devastation around me until all of a sudden, Dasinth pulls me behind him and draws out his sword. A shiver runs through me as I sense something coming, something in the wind, as dangerous and dark as the flames around us.

I don't see what happens, but I hear the clashing of swords and Dasinth bellowing. As the ground trembles again, Dasinth picks me up and throws me back down the corridor. I land on my back, my ears ringing, and turn just in time to see the corridor falling down on top of Dasinth. I try to cry out his name, to scream for help, but nothing comes out.

A boy appears in the corridor, and he offers me his hand. "Hurry, come with me!"

His eyes are wide and his hair dark, but I can't move. I can't breathe.

The floor and walls crack, making a huge gap between us and the boy is swallowed up by the smoke in seconds. The black flames that look like a burning black star flood through the rest of the corridor towards me. I dazedly pull myself to my feet, my hearing still muffled, and curl up against the broken wall, the floor nothing but a ledge at my feet.

While the rest of the palace crumbles around me, the black flames continue searing down from the sky, destroying everything in its path. Some of the flames skirt by my feet and burn my toes through my slippers. I scream and pull myself closer to the wall, covering my face with my little hands.

Over the sound of my heart pounding, I hear wings beating like thunder,

I lift my head and look up into an eye of pure gold. There's a giant monster flying in the air right above me, lowering itself. Its black and gold scales smother every inch of it, and its giant wings spread out so far. The smoke completely clears from around me, the flames burning out quickly, as I realise it's a dragon from the legends.

The fierce, massive creature continues to watch me before lifting its head, and I see there is someone riding on its back. A boy much older than me with twilight hair and unfamiliar armour, the same black and gold as the dragon. There is a symbol painted on his chest that I have never seen before, a dragon and a crown wrapped around each other.

The boy looks right at me, taking my breath away with how intense his stare is. There's a long gold scar on his tanned face, and his dark hair is blowing slightly in the breeze. On top of his head rests a magnificent crown.

I know that crown well. It's my father's crown.

My breath leaves me as I watch the boy, and he watches me too with hate burning in his eyes—a hate I feel for him too. Blood drips down his head from the crown onto his cheek and he wipes it away, his eyes locked on mine. My legs shake as I force myself to straighten. I am the princess of The Drifting Kingdom, and I will not die cowering before anyone. Tears stream down my cheeks as the boy watches me and I want to scream at him. He leans down, whispering something to the dragon, and I know I'm going to burn at his command. The dragon roars at me with nothing but ash, blood, and smoke. I scream, holding my stomach, praying that my death will be quick and easy.

Instead of eating me, instead of my death, the dragon and the boy fly away over my ruined kingdom. My parents' kingdom, and it's burning with the fire of dragons…

A hand grips my shoulder tightly, sharp nails digging into my skin to pull me awake. I blink dazedly at the shadow hovering over me. It takes me a moment to register who the beady eyes belong to. "I asked you a question. You would do well by staying awake in my class to answer it."

Sister Gabriella squeezes my shoulder, her yellowed nails breaking through my dress into skin. I stare up at her, making sure not to wince or give her a reason to punish me. Her punishments are the worst, and I really don't want to spend the rest of the day bleeding.

"Forgive me, Sister," I reply, shaking my head at the memories.

They're just echoes. Echoes of my past. And sometimes my present is far worse than the past. If I don't answer her soon, I will be reminded of that.

"Failure to pay attention again will result in punishment. So, what is your answer, Princess ?"

I cringe at the use of my title. She only ever refers to me as princess when she really wants to embarrass me in public. I've tried so hard to forget about the life I once had before the king brought me here. It's funny how a single word can take me back to that day.

I clear my throat. "Could you repeat the question so I might answer it, Sister Gabriella?" I try to keep my voice as neutral as possible to not anger her. The convent is run by her, the new religion that was forbidden back when my parents ruled. The usurper king indulged in their teachings and gave them the spare castle my parents had used for summer breaks. He also gave them many churches and gold in exchange for keeping me protected.

Protected . The word makes me want to laugh. And gag.

I've endured years of their so-called protection. It's nothing short of torture. However, in the back of my mind, I'm ever aware of how their torture is still better than what comes for me.

"I asked you to explain to our holy class the name of the god we worship tomorrow on Nyx?"

On my birthday. On the day my parents were slaughtered by a boy on the back of a dragon. A boy who became a ruthless king after he stole my father's crown. I blink back any emotion, swallowing down my true reaction like I've trained myself to do, before answering.

"Ciagid, the protector of the dragon race. It is their sacred god."

"Correct." She tightens her grip on my shoulder before moving on. "Tomorrow we shall celebrate Ciagid with fireworks, magic, and feasts across the entire kingdom. We will celebrate the might of the dragons, and the king who brought them to us. Now, how many dragons will celebrate with us?"

No one answers right away, so she continues on. "There are two hundred and twelve dragon riders registered at the Citadel, and I expect each of you to name all of them by the end of this class."

"Yes, Sister Gabriella."

I mumble the words along with the others. When there's an unexpected pause in Sister Gabriella's usual spiel, I peer at her from across the room. Her beady eyes lock on me alone as she stands perfectly in line with the centre of the chalkboard, her liver-spotted hands clasped against the beads wrapped around her bony waist. She doesn't even bother hiding the sneer that forever taunts her lips when she looks at me.

My blood boils as that old, but familiar fear threatens to creep its way over my shoulders. I refuse to let her see it. She thrives off it. I tug my cloak hood over my face and resume picking at the edges of my desk. After so many years trapped in this prison, forced to sit at the same desk and wander the same bland halls, day in day out, never allowed to leave them, there isn't much left to pick at.

"Can any of you tell me where the dragons originated from?"

Although Sister's Gabriella's question is directed to the class, I have no doubt she's still looking at me, waiting for me to crack. I slice my nails deeper into the wood, pretending not to hear her. I know everything there is to know about dragons, just like I know the devastation their riders like to inflict from their backs. I can still smell their fire at night when I go to sleep.

Elliot answers the question. He's one of the few other males who were imprisoned here alongside me. Gods above, how long ago was that now? Nine years ago? Maybe ten? Sometimes it feels like I was born in this convent.

"The Hallowed Kingdom," Elliot says with an air of smugness. "It was recorded that the first dragon eggs were found inside a mountain by our great king, Eraxis the Vindicator, and the first ever dragon egg hatched for him." He moves excitedly in his chair, ever the teacher's faithful little pet.

"The king's closest confidants were next to find eggs and bond with their dragons," Elliot resumes. "Then each rider flew to our lands once the dragons were of age and a good size, roughly two years after they hatched. Although for some dragons it can take five years until they fully mature."

Although I can't see Sister Gabriella, I know she is smiling at his response. The old crone loves to go over the history of our great Dragon King whenever I'm in the same room as her. She seeks pleasure in reminding me that I'm only trapped here because of him, and that I only breathe now because he spared me the night, he brought us here as prisoners. That's all we are at the end of the day—prisoners of a war started by our parents.

"Very good answer, Elliot." She claps her hands twice, her one form of praise. "You are turning out to be an exemplary acolyte in training. Others would do well to learn from you."

Another sly dig at me. I ignore it and flick a chip of wood onto the floor.

Elliot glances back at me, that same old sorry look in his eyes. I don't remember much about him from before we were conquered. His father served in my mother's court, and I believe we shared the same governess at one point, but other than that he was just as strange to me as everyone else when I was brought here.

Sister Gabriella turns her attention to the board behind her. "Now. What colour of fire does the king's dragon breathe, and what makes their flames different?"

I place my elbow on the desk and rest my chin in my hand, my focus straying to the window beside me. Through the thick iron bars, I can just see the beginning of the forest stretching beyond their hold. I've memorised every tree on that stupid border—painted them a hundred times over in my prison cell they call a room. It's the cruellest reminder of all, really. To be able to see your freedom but never reach it. I think that's why Sister Gabriella always makes me sit by the window. She wants me to look out from my cage and know she is the one who holds the key.

"They're black flames, Sister Gabriella," Elliot replies quickly. "Black flames are a gift from the night dragon god, Nytar, and the dragons who serve him will always breathe black fire. Red flames come from the daylight goddess, Hekai. It is said black fire looks like a million stars burning in the night sky, whereas red flames…"

The rest of the lesson goes smoothly as she drones on about the Dragon King and how glorious he is. My parents' kingdom took to his rule quickly, apparently. He was only a boy when he stole their throne. Just shy of sixteen. Yet he took down centuries of my family's rule before imprisoning me here, vowing to the nobles that he would marry me when I turned twenty-one. When a dragon rider army invades, what can anyone do but bow to flames?

In other words, my life has been one endless nightmare since the day he burned my home to the ground, and most of the kingdom with it. I hate how everyone calls him a righteous king when he's anything but. He is far from a noble warrior and protector of the realm. To me, King Eraxis will only ever be the villain in this tale, and he's as rotten to the core as the acts he committed against my family.

By the luck of Hekai, the class finally ends, and I scurry from the room before the priestess can summon me to her. I rush down the ancient corridors, passing the many granite doors that are always locked in this part of the building. Ivy crawls over the old stone walls, and around the windows that let some sunlight stream through. The sound of my boots, hidden well under my white dress, hit the stone as I rush straight towards my only reminder of home.

Dasinth grins when he sees me, his smile somehow making his entire face change from terrifying guard to the happy uncle-figure I know and love. He opens up his arms and I run straight into them, pressing my face to his chest and breathing in his familiar scent.

"Uncle, you're back! I heard rumours but I wasn't sure if they lied or not."

"Nytar blessed my horse, and we rode well," he murmurs, kissing me on top of my head. I'm terribly short compared to him. I pull away first and smile up at him. The light shines in his dark blue eyes when he looks down at me. "How was your morning, my little maeflower?"

I sigh, and the edge of his lips tilt with mirth. "Boring, as always. Tell me all about your… hunting trip." My voice is laced with sarcasm. I can't hide it when I'm around him.

Dasinth told me repeatedly that he was going away for two weeks for a hunting excursion, but we both knew he was not telling me the truth. Food is never scarce here, not with a forest full of bountiful game. Even in winter there's still an abundance. Not that I should know of any of this since I'm forbidden to hunt. I'm not even allowed into the king's wood without trespassing.

My uncle waves to the path that leads up to the dinner hall. The bitter cold air, laced with snow, somehow finds its way in to freeze me.

"It was… interesting. Plenty of deer."

I roll my eyes at his answer as we get to a table set out with food, including dozens of my favourite honey cakes. Although Dasinth isn't my uncle by blood, he's all I have left. I know him better than anyone. He was stationed here to protect me once he recovered from his injuries after the invasion. I think someone thought it would be a good idea to have someone I knew around me so that I didn't go insane. It might be too late for that, though. I pick up two of the cakes, sliding one into my pocket before my uncle sees. His grin gives me away though.

"Will you ever tell me where you truly went?" I ask, sliding another cake into my pocket.

He glances down at me, a strand of slightly greying blond hair falling into his eyes. "When you are the queen of this land, you can command me to tell you anything you wish to know. Until then…"

He trails off, and a shiver works its way down my spine. Everyone is well aware that I don't want this marriage to go ahead. The king murdered my parents. I don't see how I can forgive him for that, let alone grow to like him.

I'd rather kill him.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Maelena." My uncle's voice pulls my attention back to him as he gives me an apologetic smile. "Forgive me."

"You're forgiven, Uncle." I offer him a smile, mostly because he didn't say that to upset me or be cruel. It's just a fact. I'm the last remaining descendant of the Dyminien reign and I've been promised to the king of dragons since I was ten years old. There's no escaping it.

This is my fate.

He clears his throat. "The dragons don't usually leave much of the large deer around for us, so it was a treat to find the ones we did." There was a time when I dreamed about dragons being real, like the old stories of dragon riders who fought a great evil centuries ago and won. Those stories, everyone thought they were that—just stories. The dragons had merely been hidden away from us until now.

Until he found them again.

Now they are an ever-increasing reality. I see them every time I look out the window of the tower, their scales glittering against the sun or pale moonlight as they soar across the sky. They mostly fly around the ruins of my old home which can be viewed from everywhere.

It's like I've been locked in a tomb, sealed shut for eternity.

When I haven't said a word in far too long, my uncle tries again. His tone is slightly chipper.

"Any afternoon plans, Maeflower?"

"You're asking what I'm doing on my last days of freedom?"

Other than planning my escape .

An awkward silence settles between us. I blow out a breath, noticing him tensing ever so slightly. I can't imagine he wants any of this for me, either, but his hands are as much tied as my own. He's just a pawn to them—a knight set to guard the queen and make sure she doesn't run off the board. That's all my uncle has ever been to them, and it hurts to know that he wants me to play their game.

"Nothing much other than reading, enjoying these cakes, and maybe some painting," I say, breaking the silence.

I just manage to hold back what I really want to say. I don't want to risk giving him a heart attack after he almost had one a few years ago, but most of all, I don't want him to intervene. I know my uncle. He will try to stop me from running away.

He smiles like he can almost see what my secret plan is. He whispers low. "Just don't do anything foolish, my dear."

"Like what?" I innocently answer. "I never do anything foolish, Uncle."

"If the nuns managed to catch you…" He keeps his voice near silent. They are always people listening in this place, and more than once, I've been punished for just speaking out about the priestess or the king. "I'm not sure what I could do, but I won't see them torment you anymore."

His expression hardens, and I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I know," I whisper back. "I really do know."

He touches my elbow outside my room, pulling me to a halt. "The Dragon King will not let you go so easily. I don't think I've met a man more intense and protective over what he deems to be his. The old stories spoke of dragons that hoarded gold and were fiercely protective of it. You are gold to this king, Maelena, who is more dragon and beast than he is man." He somehow manages to speak even quieter. "There is still unrest throughout his kingdom—those who call out for the old ways. Your marriage will unify the people to his side that still call for you to be their queen, so be careful. His kingdom and you are tied to a bond that cannot be severed. The bond must be made."

I pull my elbow away from him, noting the hurt in his eyes. "Do you really want to see me married off to the person who slaughtered my parents, burnt down my castle, took the survivors hostage, including you? He is a traitorous, murdering usurper and I will never give him what he wants. He'll have to drag me down the aisle because I will not be going willingly."

He grips my shoulder, and I can barely contain the wince as he touches the fresh bruises left from the priestess earlier. "If you think all he'll do is drag you, Mae—" He stops himself, briefly closes his eyes, and takes a sharp breath before opening them again. "I've prayed to the gods of old every day to release you from this fate. But there is nothing more I can?—"

I know how this excuse is finished, and I cut him off, tired of hearing it. "I've got things to do. Goodbye, Uncle."

I slam my room door behind me, my hands shaking as I clench them, and I rest my head against the heavy wood with a thump. My uncle sighs on the other side but doesn't follow me. I need to be alone right now. A full-length mirror stares at me from across the room. I see only a caged bird in my reflection. My rose gold hair falls down to my waist, and it almost highlights the bright purple specks within the lavender haze of my eyes. My eyes remind me of my father, whereas my hair comes from my mother, and it is distinctive of her line. The mirror is the only time I get to see my parents, even if it's just for a moment. The king is going to be disappointed when he sees me. I'm too thin, perhaps made worse in my white dress I'm forced to wear for my purity, but the cloak is smothered in gold, and it's clipped tightly around my neck like a noose.

The Dragon King's symbols in silver lie down the helm of the cloak, like it's mocking me that I won't ever escape him. Gold stands for the new Dragon King whereas red had stood for my father's. It's funny that my hair colour is the exact mix of both. Red and gold. I unclip the cloak, throwing it to the side.

"You can come out now."

My only friend in the world steps out from the closet at the side of my small rickety bed. My best friend, Lochlan, playfully grins at me before lying back on my bed with a groan. "Sister Faye insisted on a three-hour walk this morning in the snow, and I had to read old chants to her the entire time. Even praying to Hekai didn't help me, Lena."

Lochlan is the only one who calls me Lena.

Laughing, I jump on the bed next to him and look up at the ceiling at his side, feeling his warmth. The stone is cracked, dusty, but the bed is comfy at least. Lochlan works for the priestesses as a servant, mostly translating old texts for her.

"At least she didn't make you read to her during her bath this time."

Lochlan lets out a painful noise. "You promised we would take that secret to our graves!"

"Speaking of graves," I edge. "How is our escape plan going?"

He leans up on his arm, looking down at me with his deep brown eyes. "All planned perfectly for tomorrow." I hand him the cake from my pocket, and he happily takes it. He eats as he tells me the last details of the plan. Until now, we both agreed I shouldn't know anything about the details in case the priestesses hurt me to find out the truth. But none of that matters anymore. In one more day, I'll finally be free.

"Tomorrow morning, one of the servant girls, Kya, is covering for you at breakfast. She works predominantly in the gardens and won't be missed. We'll be claiming you aren't well and need to stay in bed."

Hope flickers in my heart, threatening to come alive again. Hope that I might escape my fate at long last. I trust Loch with my life. He was from the castle, like me, but his family were nobles who refused to bow to the new king. They were killed, and Loch was sent here to live in exile with the rest of us. Most of the people here were children orphaned on that day, but Loch is like me, and he doesn't support the king.

I can't help but look at him for maybe a second too long, my heart pounding. His light brown hair looks so soft, shining in the sunlight coming in through my small, glazed windows. He wears all black, which is typical of him, and his dark shirt has gold seals running around his cuffs. Some of the buttons are loose and I have to force myself to look away from them, my throat turning dry.

Sometimes I've found myself fantasising about how things could've been between us if I were a free princess, and he was a noble. We might have become best friends then, too. Maybe even more, since royals are allowed to choose whoever, they want to be with. At least that was the way for my father and my grandfather and so on.

Although I was the first girl born to the line, I like to think I would have chosen Lochlan, and in another life, he would choose me too.

However, in this life, in this prison , it's too risky for him to even talk to me in public, let alone touch me. The punishment would be a slow and painful death if we were ever caught alone together, and I'd never risk that. I have no idea if Lochlan feels that way about me, but he's my heart from the beginning, and I have a feeling he always will.

Lochlan was the only one brave enough to talk to me when I first arrived here. He used to sneak into my room and tell me stories that made me laugh so hard I cried. He made it possible for me to breathe through the nightmares and always held my hand when I needed someone. Those nightmares still come and go, but I don't wake up screaming anymore. No. The nightmares haunt me in the day now, and I won't ever escape them. I can escape the dragon king, though.

"There's a cart leaving for the shore," Lochlan says. "They won't notice us in the back with the crates. We've paid them enough to make sure."

I nod, trying hard to control my excitement. "How did you convince your friend to help us?"

He winks at me, and my heart lurches for a moment. I wonder how exactly he convinced the servant to help, before I tell myself to push it to the back of mind. It won't matter tomorrow. We'll finally be away from here. "We'll get off at shore and then board a cargo ship that's headed east." He puts his chest pocket. "Already got our papers and new certificates ready to go. Nearly cost me a kidney, but there's enough coin left over for us to have a good start."

He shows me the travelling papers and our new identity certificates, and I stare at my new name with tears in my lavender eyes. It's so beautiful seeing it in person. I had wanted to pick a name in memory of both my mother and father, but Loch felt it was safer to pick something that had no obvious connection to them or my former life. Gruve seemed like the next best choice for me, especially since violet roses were my mother's favourite flower. It was such a subtle detail that really only my father and I knew about.

I pass the documents back to Lochlan. "Where will we be docking?"

He stretches his arms. "Miseiss , the place where your mother came from. Figured you'd like to see it? You might need to cover up your hair, though. It's too obvious, but then again, we'll be long gone before they even realise." He glances at me, a little nervously. "We won't be able to stay in one place for very long, remember? It's too dangerous."

"I know. We'll always be on the run." I blink up at him, nodding. "I'd rather run free than be trapped in a cage."

I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat; its rapid pace matches the beat of my own. He's as excited and no doubt scared as I am.

Only one more day and we might finally be free!

We've waited so long for this moment. Soon, this will all be over, and we can finally start living our lives again. Tears fill my eyes at the thought of leaving my uncle behind. I'll miss him, more than he might ever know, but I can't endure this anymore. And I refuse to marry the king even if it would unite our people. It's not like they will harm my uncle once they find out I'm gone. With his experience in battle as well as in court, he's too useful to be discarded. Or else they would have done so already. Besides, they've never hurt him before. It's only ever me they hurt.

My uncle will miss me too, but he's strong and will get over it. Or maybe he'll come looking for us and we can be free together. Either way, I have to do this. My fate has been sealed in those papers, and come tomorrow, there will be no going back. Only forward.

I hear his familiar heavy footsteps in the hallway outside. His tone is louder than it usually is, firmer even, when he speaks.

"The princess is getting changed. Can it not wait? I do not think you should just go in?—"

Lochlan jumps off the bed and into the closet, hurrying through the secret door that leads down to the dungeons towards his room. Mere seconds later, my doors are thrust open and Priestess Gabriellia storms in with her hands clasped tightly against her pristine white cloak. She isn't alone. Two women I have never seen before hurry after her as I stand just as quickly as Lochlan had jumped. A gold veil completely covers their heads all the way down to the gold ball gowns scarcely hidden beneath them, concealing their faces from me. They are like twins by the way they move in unison, their footsteps barely heard, and are the same height and size. I flick my gaze back to the priestess, who sucks on her thinly pressed lips before speaking.

"It has been decided that you shall meet the king earlier than expected. His people are very eager to see you, princess, and I'm sure you are just as eager to see them." She snaps her bony fingers at me. "The king has kindly sent his seamstresses here to create a wardrobe for you. You will show them the respect they deserve while they make their corrections, which I am sure there are to be plenty of." She turns her head toward them but keeps her gaze pinned on me. "As I mentioned before, our princess has a rather peculiar palette, and often deemed our meals here unsuitable to her tastes." Her beady eyes narrow down at me into wrinkled slits. "Hopefully she will find His Majesty's food more to her liking."

Every word is like an insult, draped in invisible poison only I'm able to see. The two women ignore her as they walk towards me, and my room quickly fills with rows of hangers filled with beautiful gold dresses. I can guess the colour of the choice for tomorrow. Everything is gold. It almost hurts to look at them.

As I'm forced into gown after gown, measured, poked and prodded until I'm flustered and uncomfortable, the priestess watches me with a look of sadistic glee in her eyes.

"Stand straight and lift your head, princess. We have only a short time to make you befitting and worthy of our king," she says, her lips barely moving around the syllables, "who will arrive in the morning to escort you personally to his royal palace."

My heart pounds with dread as I'm whipped around to face the mirror again. I stare wide-eyed at my shocked reflection gazing back at me, unable to think, move, or even breathe. The Dragon King is arriving in the morning… at the same time as my escape.