Evangeline took his words to heart, not in a way that granted trust, but in a way that acknowledged her limited options. She decided to observe, to watch for the cracks in their perfect facade. She began to live in the sprawling, beautiful castle, her room a luxurious space filled with light and warmth. She ate at their table, her meals an endless feast of new and delicious foods. She was a guest, a curiosity, a potential bride, and a prisoner all at once. Her mind remained on high alert, even when her body began to relax.
The Dragon Royal Family continued to treat her with a strange, unconditional kindness that made her more suspicious with each passing day. Arion was a constant, but subtle, presence. He didn't hover, but he was always there—a shadow in the corridors, a quiet figure at the edge of the gardens. His watchful presence was a source of both comfort and unease.
But the serpent in this newfound sanctuary arrived in the form of Arion's childhood friend, a dragoness named Seraphina. She was a vision of grace and beauty, with fiery red hair and eyes that sparkled like embers. To the court, she was a kind, gentle soul who had been a loyal friend to Arion her entire life. To Evangeline, she was a viper.
Seraphina's hostility was immediate and sharp. She would approach Evangeline with a sweet smile and a venomous whisper. "He was supposed to be mine," she'd hiss, her voice low and menacing. "You're just a broken toy he found in the forest. He'll get bored with you soon enough."
When Arion was present, Seraphina's demeanor would change completely. Her smiles were warmer, her voice sweeter, and her movements were those of a damsel in distress. She would cling to Arion, her eyes welling with fake tears as she'd spin a tale of Evangeline's cruelty.
"Oh, Arion, I tried to befriend her," she would say, her voice trembling. "But she said such terrible things to me... I just wanted to welcome her."
Evangeline, a veteran of manipulation and false kindness, saw right through the charade. She knew the whispers and the subtle threats were designed to isolate her, to turn Arion against her. She was on familiar ground here—this was a game she knew how to play. But in this new world, with her heart and life on the line, she felt a different kind of fear. What if Arion believed Seraphina? What if her defiance, which had drawn him to her, was now seen as a flaw?
*The Public Confrontation*
Evangeline listened to Seraphina's feigned sobs, her head tilted, a perfect mask of polite indifference on her face. She felt a familiar coldness settle in her heart. This wasn't a game; this was a performance. And Seraphina was a skilled actress. The queen's hand was on her shoulder, a gesture of comfort that made Evangeline's skin crawl with the falseness of it all.
When Arion entered the room, his eyes immediately went to her, a storm of concern brewing within their golden depths. Seraphina immediately clung to him, her body a trembling picture of distress.
"Arion, I... I don't know what I did wrong," Seraphina whimpered, her voice cracking with manufactured grief. "I just wanted to be her friend, but she's so cruel."
Everyone in the room, from the court ladies to the guards, turned to look at Evangeline. She felt their eyes on her, filled with a mixture of pity and contempt. They had heard the rumors of her as an outcast, but now they had a witness. Arion's mother's grip on her shoulder tightened slightly, a silent plea for her to explain.
Evangeline took a deep breath. She could defend herself, but that would just fuel the fire. She would not play Seraphina's game. She would not lose her dignity. With a quiet grace, she stepped away from the queen and took a step forward, her chin held high. Her gaze was not on Arion, but on Seraphina, who looked up with a small, triumphant smirk.
"I am so sorry, Seraphina," Evangeline said, her voice a calm, even tone that cut through the silence in the room. "I merely talked. What did I possibly say wrong?"
The smirk on Seraphina's face faltered. She had expected anger, a panicked defense, or perhaps a tearful denial. She had not expected this kind of quiet, understated challenge.
"You—you know what you said!" Seraphina stammered, her carefully constructed tears drying in her eyes. "You said that—"
"That what?" Evangeline cut her off, her voice still calm. "Did I say I didn't want to be your friend? Or did I simply say I had no need for new ones?"
Seraphina's face went white. She had no real evidence, no witnesses to back up her lies. Evangeline's quiet confrontation had taken the weapon right out of her hands. The court, who had been listening with bated breath, was now confused. Seraphina was supposed to be a victim, not a liar.
Arion, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, now stepped forward, his eyes burning with an intense, furious golden light. He didn't look at Evangeline or Seraphina. He looked at the room, at the people who had dared to judge the woman he had chosen.
"Enough," his voice was a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver down everyone's spine. "The Princess is a guest in this castle, and she will be treated with the respect she deserves." He then turned to Seraphina, his expression hardening. "Seraphina, you are dismissed."
Seraphina's mouth hung open in shock. She had lost. Not to anger or tears, but to quiet defiance. She gave Evangeline a look of pure, unadulterated hatred before fleeing the room. The court, with a swift understanding of their prince's wrath, quickly dispersed, leaving Arion and Evangeline alone.
* The Pain of Betrayal *
The coldness that had settled in Evangeline's heart turned to a sharp, icy sting. She watched as Arion's powerful hand, the one she had thought would protect her, rested on Seraphina's shoulder. His golden eyes, which had burned with a fierce protectiveness just moments before, now softened with concern as he looked at the weeping woman.
"Seraphina, you are dismissed," he said, his voice still a low rumble, but the fury was gone, replaced by a gentle command. "Go rest. We will speak of this later."
Seraphina's sobs instantly turned into a soft, pitiful sniffle. She gave Arion a tearful, grateful look before throwing a triumphant, venomous glance at Evangeline as she left the room.
Evangeline's polite smile didn't waver. No one could see the pain in her eyes, the familiar ache of being misunderstood and betrayed. She had foolishly believed, for a brief moment, that he was different. But he was just like the others—charmed by a pretty face and fake tears. She was, once again, alone.
Arion turned to her then, his expression a mixture of concern and something she couldn't quite decipher. "Evangeline, are you alright?" he asked, taking a step toward her.
She flinched. The kindness in his voice now sounded like a lie. She raised a hand, stopping him. "I'm fine, Your Highness," she said, her voice a calm, serene mask. "I apologize if my presence caused a disruption. I will go to my room now."
She didn't wait for a reply. She simply turned and walked away, her back straight, her steps even and unhurried. The palace corridors, once a source of comfort, now felt like a gilded cage. He had promised her a sanctuary, but what she had found was a place of false promises and familiar betrayals.
She locked the door to her room, the click of the latch a final, miserable sound. Her smile finally broke, and she leaned against the door, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The tears she had held back for so long now streamed down her face, hot and furious.
He hadn't protected her. He hadn't stood by her. He had chosen the "victim," the woman he had known for his entire life. The small seed of trust that had been planted in her heart had now been crushed and buried under a fresh wave of grief and loneliness.