The next few days following that intense confrontation, the security around me doubled dramatically in size and scope. I now had two dedicated personal guards assigned exclusively to me, and eight additional soldiers sitting constantly on guard duty around the clock. It increasingly seemed like I had become something of a prisoner, albeit a luxurious one confined to gilded rooms.
Arvid had come to see me faithfully every single day without fail, asking persistently for kisses and embraces. He simply spent his time clinging to me desperately, as if I might vanish if he let go. When I had finally asked him directly for some personal space and breathing room—he had merely moved to the chair positioned next to me instead. Yet even then, his intense eyes never once left me, tracking my every movement.
"I won't leave you," I finally said out loud with a heavy sigh, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer. It was beginning to feel genuinely oppressive.
"But you seriously thought about it," was his immediate reply, his voice carrying hurt. "You considered abandoning me."
I realized then with uncomfortable clarity that we were both equally obsessed with each other in our own ways. For me, the obsession stemmed partly from the dragon soul that was bound to me, which had declared unequivocally that Arvid was our destined mate. But he had been obsessed with me for years, apparently without any supernatural reason compelling him. Just because Aiona had fed him and taken care of him in those caves when he was a frightened child? Then wasn't he actually in love with Aiona rather than me? Was I just a vessel for what he truly desired?
"It's us—we're the same," Aiona suddenly chimed in sharply within my head, reading my troubled thoughts.
"I don't have a physical body anymore—I'm just a soul existing within you. You have both a body and a soul, and together that makes us one complete being. He is our mate, belonging to both of us." Her voice echoed in my mind. The philosophical complexity of it was giving me a splitting headache. And what was that persistent smell I'd been noticing? I had been smelling something unusual and distinctive since yesterday.
"It's dragon blood existing outside your body that you're detecting," Aiona answered my unspoken question immediately.
What? I asked her urgently in my mind, alarmed.
"Now you can actually smell dragon blood outside of your body—you've been physically transforming gradually. It's happening earlier than I initially thought it would," she explained matter-of-factly.
Oh. I hadn't given it much conscious thought when I first smelled that distinctive scent yesterday emanating from those former Draga citizens. I had just instinctively, immediately known it was dragon blood without understanding how. But I had never possessed this ability to smell it before. Why was I suddenly able to detect it? How was this even possible? What was happening to my body?
*What exactly do you mean by transforming?* I demanded.
"Well, you are gradually becoming a dragon yourself—slowly but surely and inevitably. Heightened senses are just the first step in the transformation process. Your sense of smell will become dramatically heightened, your vision will become extraordinarily clearer and sharper, sounds you'll be able to hear from impossibly far away. This is just the beginning, the first step." She answered calmly.
*I don't want to become a dragon,* I thought desperately.
She just laughed mockingly in my mind, the sound echoing.
"You don't control that transformation, it's simply your destiny and fate. Deal with it and accept it," she answered dismissively.
I felt a sudden, splitting headache pierce through my skull. Worrying constantly about this situation and countless other problems was really getting to me, wearing me down.
"I want to rest now," I finally said aloud, my voice tired.
I got up unsteadily from my seat in the library, but I swayed miserably, the room spinning. My legs felt weak.
Arvid immediately came to my side with alarm. He simply held me securely in his strong arms, lifting and carrying me out of the library. I was too exhausted to pay any attention to where we were going or to protest. So I just let him carry me out through the corridors to the bed chambers. I closed my heavy eyes as soon as my aching head hit the soft pillow, surrendering to unconsciousness.
Arvid didn't leave my side for quite some time, I dimly registered.
It was deep night when I was gently awoken by a soft, urgent "Rhia."
Katherine sat close next to me on the bed, genuine concern written plainly all over her expressive face.
"Let's run away," she whispered conspiratorially, her voice barely audible.
I sat up groggily as the blurry picture gradually came into sharp focus—something very, very clear. Too clear, unnaturally so. It was the middle of the night, yet I could see everything in the dark room perfectly clearly, as if it were daylight. My eyes had transformed, developed night vision. I let out a shaky, disturbed sigh.
"Let's run away together, Rhia—let's leave all these complicated things behind us," Katherine urged again. "Let's go west, somewhere far away where neither Draga nor Selon can possibly find you. We could start over."
I felt confused by her sudden proposal.
To run away? Did I genuinely want to run away and escape?
Yes, part of me desperately did.
But what would be the inevitable consequences of such an action?
People would die. Many innocent people would suffer in the war that would follow.
So the answer became clear as day, obvious.
I couldn't run away. I wouldn't.
"I can't do that," I answered her simply but firmly. Katherine had knelt beside the bed, and I could see her eyes watering with unshed tears. I sat up more comfortably and reached out to pat her head gently, soothingly.
"I know you think I'm suffering terribly, but this is just me adapting to a new life," I told her softly. "I'll be fine after a while, once I adjust."
"And if I did run away as you suggest, innocent people would die because of me," I continued. "I can't live knowing I had spilled innocent blood merely for the sake of my own freedom and comfort."
She let her tears finally fall freely at my words, streaming down her face. She cried for a long time, her body shaking with sobs. My words of consolation didn't seem to reach her at all. I had to pull her into a hug and hold her, consoling her like a child.
So even when the next morning came with pale light, I didn't immediately wake up or rise. I continued to spend additional time resting in bed, catching up on desperately needed sleep. By the afternoon, I had finally left the room to make my way to the familiar library to get some productive reading done.
I had discovered a rare, old book on Dergu funeral traditions and customs. According to the detailed text, the body of the deceased was burned in fire just like the standard southern practice dictated. But significantly, they didn't keep the ashes in an urn for preservation. Instead, they added the ashes reverently to a flowing body of water—a river or stream. The Dergu believed firmly that the water would carry the deceased's essence to the afterlife, transporting them to their final destination.
I had been carrying Yasmine's ashes with me since her execution, uncertain what to do. I had finally found the answer—learned what I should do with her ashes so she could properly reach the afterlife according to her people's beliefs.
After long, focused hours of learning and reading, I had gone to participate in our scheduled physical training session, just as we had done diligently on previous days. We never skipped a single day of practice. Some physical activity and exertion tended to clear your head wonderfully and release tension. And I could genuinely feel we were getting noticeably better day by day at the exercises. Our stamina had somewhat improved considerably. And we had received some valuable lessons on practical self-defense techniques. The only difference today was that Arvid had been lurking around the training area, not getting closer but always present, just silently watching us with those intense eyes.
At the end of the exhausting training session, I had finally had enough of his constant stalking and observation.
I approached him first, directly asking why he was doing this.
"You looked uncomfortable with me recently, is it because of what I said to you?" he asked with obvious guilt. "I'm truly sorry, I didn't mean those threats. I would never actually hurt you." He resembled a pitiful puppy who'd been scolded. And I could not help but feel genuine pity for him.
"Let's have dinner together tonight," I suggested to him, reaching up to ruffle his soft hair affectionately.
"Let's talk honestly and get this uncomfortable situation over with," I added.
---
After taking a long, luxurious warm bath to soothe my aching muscles, I deliberately chose a striking red-colored dress for dinner. Katherine helped me expertly with my hair, creating a graceful updo and adorning it with some sparkling diamond accessories that caught the light.
Arvid came personally to my door to escort me to dinner. He showed up holding carefully hand-woven flowers—pretty red roses that he'd crafted himself. I accepted them with genuine delight, touched by the gesture. He explained shyly that he had learned the flower-weaving technique from his Aunt specifically so he could make them for me.
I took his extended hand and followed his lead down to the dining hall.