The Dragon Stirs
The entire court was summoned at dawn.
Ministers arrived half-dressed. Clan heads filed in with suspicion sharp in their eyes. Whispers crawled across the Great Hall like smoke—about the slave, the West Wing, the King's sudden severity.
Raven sat upon the throne, unmoving.
Below him, the Eagle Clan Head stepped forward without invitation.
"This farce has gone on long enough," the man snapped. "Moving a slave—worse, a captive from a fallen kingdom—into chambers meant for the future Queen is abominable. It is an insult to the noble houses and—"
"Enough."
Raven's voice cut through the hall like steel.
Silence fell instantly.
"You speak boldly for a man who has not been invited to speak at all," Raven said calmly. "But since you are so eager to be heard—let us continue."
He gestured.
"Bring him in."
The great doors groaned open.
Two guards dragged a figure forward and threw him to the marble floor. The man barely moved. His body was broken, his face pale, eyes dull—but something about him had changed. Something missing.
A murmur rippled through the court.
The Eagle Clan Head stiffened.
Raven rose from the throne.
"You protested the protection of a royal servant," he said, stepping down slowly. "Yet you sent assassins into my palace."
"That is a lie!" the Eagle roared. "I demand proof—"
Raven did not answer.
He simply appeared.
One moment he was several paces away.
The next—he stood directly beside the Eagle Clan Head.
A collective gasp tore through the hall.
No one had seen him move.
Impossible.
It had long been believed—encouraged, even—that Raven lacked the true powers of his dragon lineage. That he ruled by wit and command alone.
A lie his parents had crafted.
A lie no longer necessary.
Raven's hand landed on the assassin's head.
"Turn him," he ordered.
The guards obeyed, pulling back matted hair.
Behind the ear burned a familiar mark.
A wing.
The hall erupted.
The Eagle Clan Head staggered backward, face draining of color. "No—this is—this is treachery—!"
Raven's eyes burned.
"You attacked what is under my protection," he said softly. "And in doing so, you tested what you were never meant to survive."
He withdrew his hand.
The assassin collapsed fully—alive, but empty.
Raven turned back to the court.
"Let this be known," he said, voice carrying power older than crowns. "I do not tolerate disrespect "
His gaze swept the hall—lingering, ever so briefly, on Tanya.
Her breath caught.
Her father's fists clenched, rage boiling beneath his calm.
They had been fooled.
The dragon had been sleeping.
"And now," Raven continued, "I am awake."
The Eagle Clan Head dropped to his knees, trembling.
But Raven merely looked away.