Isla's POV
My mouth opens but no words come out.
Draeven waits, his storm-gray eyes locked onto my face. Everyone in the courtyard holds their breath. The wind stops blowing. Even the distant dragons seem to pause mid-flight.
He knows. He has to know. I'm dead. Thomas is dead. Everything is
"The portrait painter made me look softer than I really am," I hear myself say. The words tumble out fast and desperate. "He said he wanted to capture my 'gentle spirit.' I think he just didn't want to paint all my freckles."
Silence stretches for three horrible heartbeats.
Then Draeven's mouth twitches. Not quite a smile, but close.
"I see," he says. "Well, I'm not disappointed. You're more interesting than your portrait suggested."
My knees almost buckle with relief. He believed me. He actually believed me.
Or did he?
Draeven extends his arm in a formal gesture. "May I escort you inside, Princess? You must be exhausted from your journey."
I place my hand on his arm exactly how Lady Helena taught me. The moment my fingers touch his sleeve, heat radiates through the fabric. Dragon fire, I realize. He's much warmer than any normal human.
We walk toward the palace entrance with the entire welcoming party following behind. I keep my chin up and my steps measured, fighting the urge to run screaming back to the carriage.
"I know this must be frightening," Draeven says quietly, his voice meant only for me. "Coming to a strange land full of creatures you've only read about in storybooks. But I promise you'll be safe here. No one will hurt you under my protection."
The kindness in his words surprises me. I expected a monster. A cruel king who would bark orders and make demands. Instead, he sounds almost… gentle.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," I manage. "That's very kind."
"Please, call me Draven. We're going to be married. We should at least use each other's names."
Married. The word makes my stomach twist. In three days, I'll stand beside this powerful creature and make vows that mean nothing because everything about me is a lie.
"Then you should call me Celeste," I say, hating how easily the false name rolls off my tongue now.
We climb steps carved from the mountain itself. The palace doors swing open without anyone touching them magic, probably. Everything here runs on magic I don't understand.
Inside, the palace steals my breath despite my fear. Walls that pulse with warm light. Floors so polished they reflect like mirrors. And the temperature it's warm here, comfortable, even though we're surrounded by snow and ice.
"The mountain itself generates heat," Draven explains, noticing my surprise. "Dragon fire flows through veins in the stone, warming every room. You'll never be cold here."
"It's remarkable," I admit honestly.
A woman approaches us, and I have to force myself not to stare. She's tall and elegant with silver hair that falls past her waist. But her eyes they swirl with colors that don't exist in nature. Purple and gold and something that looks like liquid starlight.
"Princess Celeste, this is Lady Seraphine," Draeven introduces us. "She's my chief advisor and will help you adjust to life in Draconia."
Lady Seraphine studies my face with those impossible eyes. I feel like she's seeing straight through my skin into my lying, terrified heart.
"Welcome, Princess," she says, bowing slightly. "I'm sure we'll become great friends."
Something about the way she says "Princess" makes my pulse spike. Like she's testing the word. Questioning it.
"May I show her to her chambers?" Seraphine asks Draeven. "She must be exhausted."
"Of course." Draeven releases my arm and steps back. "The wedding ceremony is in three days. If you need anything before thenanything at allplease ask. I want you to be happy here."
He leaves before I can respond, his black cloak swirling behind him like dragon wings.
Seraphine gestures down a corridor. "This way, my dear."
We walk through passages that twist and turn in ways that shouldn't be possible inside a mountain. Seraphine moves with the grace of someone much younger than her silver hair suggests.
"How was your journey?" she asks pleasantly.
"Long. Cold." I keep my answers short, careful.
"I imagine it was quite a shock seeing real dragons for the first time. Most southern humans think we're myths."
"I didn't know what to think," I admit.
"And what do you think now?"
"That I'm very far from home."
Seraphine laughs, but it doesn't sound mocking. "An honest answer. I appreciate honesty, Princess Celeste."
Again, that strange emphasis on my fake name.
We reach a set of ornate doors that open into the most beautiful rooms I've ever seen. Not just one rooman entire suite with a bedroom, sitting room, and even a private bathing chamber. Everything is decorated in silver and blue, elegant but not overwhelming.
"These are your chambers until the wedding," Seraphine explains. "After the ceremony, you'll move to the royal quarters with King Draeven."
The thought of sharing rooms with him makes my face burn.
Seraphine walks to the window and looks out at the snowy mountains. "Tell me, Princess. What do you know about dragon marriage customs?"
"Very little," I admit.
"Dragon marriages are sealed with magic. When you say your vows, a bond will form between you and the King. Nothing invasive just a connection that allows you to sense each other's strong emotions. To find each other if you're ever separated."
My blood turns cold. "Sense each other's emotions? Like fear?"
"Strong fear, yes. Or joy, anger, deep sadness. The everyday feelings remain private, but intense emotions travel through the bond."
How am I supposed to hide my terror if Draeven can feel it through magic? How can I keep my lies hidden when my fear will scream the truth every second?
Seraphine turns from the window and pins me with those swirling eyes. "You look worried, child."
"I'm just tired from the journey."
"Hmm." She moves closer, studying me like I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve. "You have freckles."
The random observation catches me off guard. "Yes?"
"Princess Celeste's official portraits show no freckles. Yet you have quite a few across your nose and cheeks."
My heart hammers against my ribs. "The painter must have… removed them. To make me look more… refined."
"How considerate of him." Seraphine circles me slowly. "You're also slightly shorter than the measurements in Princess Celeste's official records. And your hands they have calluses. Small ones, barely noticeable, but definitely there. Princess Celeste never worked a day in her life. Why would her hands be rough?"
I can't breathe. Can't think. She knows. She absolutely knows.
"I…" My voice comes out as a whisper. "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" Seraphine stops directly in front of me. "Interesting. Very interesting indeed."
We stare at each other for a long moment. I wait for her to call the guards, to expose me, to end this nightmare before it truly begins.
Instead, she smiles.
"Get some rest, Princess. You've had a long journey." She walks to the door, then pauses. "Oh, one more thing. The King will see you for dinner tonight. Private. Just the two of you. He wants to get to know his future bride before the wedding."
"Tonight?" My voice cracks. "But I just arrived. I need time to"
"Seven o'clock. Don't be late. Draeven values punctuality." Seraphine's smile grows wider. "And Princess? Try not to look so terrified. Dragons can smell fear."
She leaves, closing the door softly behind her.
I stand frozen in the middle of my beautiful new prison, my whole body shaking.
Seraphine knows I'm not Princess Celeste. She knows, and she's toying with me. Testing me. Waiting to see what I'll do.
And tonight, I have to sit across from the Dragon Kingalone, with no one to help meand convince him I'm someone I'm not while he watches me with those too-knowing eyes.
A knock sounds on the door. A servant enters carrying my bag from the carriage.
"Your belongings, Princess. Is there anything else you need?"
"No. Thank you."
The servant leaves. I sink onto the edge of the massive bed and pull out the only thing from home that truly mattersmy mother's old book of fairy tales.
The pages fall open to a story about a girl who made a deal with a monster to save her family. The girl thought she was clever, thought she could trick the monster with lies and disguises.
The monster ate her In the end.
I close the book quickly and shove it back in my bag.
Seven o'clock. Private dinner with a dragon king who might already suspect the truth.
Four hours to figure out how to survive a meal with a creature who can probably hear my heart racing from across the table.
Four hours to become Princess Celeste so completely that even I believe it.
Four hours before everything either falls into place or falls apart completely.
I walk to the window and look out at the dragons circling the palace. They move through the sky like they own it, beautiful and deadly and impossible.
One of thema massive silver dragonbreaks away from the others and lands on a balcony several floors below my window. I watch as it transforms, scales melting into skin, wings folding into shoulders, until Draeven stands there in human form.
He looks up suddenly, directly at my window. Our eyes meet across the distance.
He doesn't wave. Doesn't smile. Just watches me with an expression I can't read.
Then he turns and walks inside, leaving me alone with my fear and my lies and the terrible certainty that tonight's dinner will change everything.
A clock on the wall chimes three times.
Four hours left.
Four hours to prepare for the most dangerous meal of my life.
I press my forehead against the cold window glass and whisper the words that have kept me going for seven days.
"For Thomas. I'm doing this for Thomas."
But as I watch more dragons land on distant balconies, transforming from beasts into people who could kill me with a thought, I wonder if even love is enough to save me from what's coming.