The next few days passed in a haze of motion.
Orders rippled outward from the capital like shockwaves through water. Garrisons drilled at odd hours. Cadets were pulled from routine rotations and reassigned without explanation. Supply lines shifted. Wards were tested, reinforced, tested again. No proclamations were made, no banners raised—but everyone felt it.
The empire was holding its breath.
Within the palace, that tension coiled tighter still.
Far from it all in the Emperor's private study, tucked deep within the eastern wing where the palace's grandeur gave way to something older and more personal.
Tall shelves of dark, polished wood lined the walls from floor to vaulted ceiling, heavy with books that had never been copied and journals that would never be shared. Maps were mounted between them—some inked, some etched into crystal, others layered with faintly glowing ley tracings that shifted subtly when viewed too long. A wide desk of blackstone dominated the center of the room, its surface scarred not by neglect, but by years of use: faint burn marks, shallow grooves where blades had once been set down, a corner smoothed thin by countless hours of waiting.
Light filtered in through narrow windows of reinforced glass, casting pale bands across the floor. The air smelled faintly of old parchment, polished metal, and something warmer beneath it all—memory.
Anna stood near the desk, hands folded carefully in front of her, trying very hard not to fidget.
She felt small in this room. Not unwelcome—but aware. A guest in a place shaped by decisions that had changed the world.
Valerius stood with his back to her, looking out through the window, hands clasped behind him. His posture was formal, imperial—until he spoke.
"The reason I asked you here," Valerius said at last, his voice steady but quieter than it ever was in the throne room, "is because your mother and I have been speaking."
Anna's fingers tightened together despite her best efforts.
Valerius turned from the window, the light catching the lines of his face—lines carved by years of rule, of choices made when no good option existed.
"You have done everything we asked of you," he continued. "You trained. You endured. You listened when it would have been easier to push back." His gaze softened, just slightly. "And you have grown—not only in power, but in restraint."
Anna swallowed.
"Because of that," Valerius said, "we have agreed."
He paused, just long enough for the words to matter.
"You will return to the academy."
For a heartbeat, Anna wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.
"I—" Her voice caught. She tried again. "Truly?"
Selene stepped forward then, warmth in her eyes. "Truly," she said. "You've earned it."
Relief washed over Anna so fast it left her dizzy. "Thank you," she breathed. "I won't waste the chance. I promise."
"I know," Valerius said.
He moved toward the desk, resting one hand against its edge, grounding himself.
"There will be conditions," he added, already anticipating her nod. "Your schedule will be moderated. Your movements, observed. Not as a punishment—but as protection."
Anna hesitated only a moment before answering. "I understand."
Valerius studied her again, searching for something—fear, defiance, resentment—and finding none of it.
"Classes will resume at the beginning of next week," he said. "You will reenter quietly. No announcements. No attention drawn."
Anna smiled, small but radiant. "That's perfect."
Selene's lips curved in quiet approval.
Valerius's gaze lingered on her a moment longer, then shifted—just briefly—to Selene.
"There is… one more matter," he said.
The warmth in the room cooled by a fraction.
"For now," Valerius continued carefully, "Alistar must remain a secret."
Anna blinked. "A secret?"
Selene stepped closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Not because he's done anything wrong," she said quickly. "But because too many eyes are already turning toward you."
Valerius inclined his head once. "If word spreads—about him, about what he is, or what he may become—it will draw attention we cannot afford."
Anna's fingers tightened again, this time protectively. "He won't hurt anyone," she said at once.
"I know," Valerius replied. And he meant it. "But others will not be so certain."
He straightened, imperial weight settling back into his posture.
"No one can know about Alistar's existence," Valerius said. "Not yet."
The words were calm. Final.
Anna's smile faded, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty she couldn't quite hide.
"I understand why," she said slowly. Then, hesitating, she added, "but… how?"
Valerius raised an eyebrow slightly.
"How," Anna repeated, cheeks warming despite herself, "am I supposed to hide a dragon every day?"
For a heartbeat, the room was silent.
Then a soft huff sounded near the far window.
All three of them turned.
Alistar sat coiled atop a low shelf where he had apparently decided to observe proceedings, his small, scaled body wrapped neatly around a stack of old ledgers. His wings were folded with deliberate care, tail flicking once as though in punctuation. Golden eyes moved between Valerius, Selene, and Anna—bright, alert, and unmistakably intelligent.
He tilted his head.
Slowly.
As if he were following every word.
Selene's lips twitched despite herself.
Valerius regarded the dragon for a long moment, expression unreadable.
"…He listens," Valerius observed.
Alistar puffed his chest slightly, as if in agreement.
Anna bit back a smile. "He always does."
Valerius exhaled through his nose—an almost-laugh, caught and contained.
"Very well," he said. "Then we address the problem properly."
He turned his attention back to Anna.
"Alistar will not attend the academy openly," Valerius said. "There will be no perching on shoulders, no flying through courtyards, no… commentary during lectures."
Alistar's tail stilled.
Anna nodded solemnly. "Of course."
Selene stepped in then, voice practical. "We've already prepared a solution. A concealment charm—part illusion, part spatial compression. When you're in public spaces, he'll appear as a small companion creature. Mundane. Unremarkable."
Alistar squinted at her.
Anna glanced at him apologetically. "Just for now."
The dragon sniffed, then shifted his gaze back to Valerius—studying him with an intensity that would have unsettled anyone else.
Valerius met that gaze evenly.
"This is not about denying you," Valerius said, and though he spoke to Anna, his eyes never left Alistar. "It is about keeping you alive long enough to choose your own future."
Alistar's wings rustled softly.
Alistar shifted, claws clicking softly against the wood as he uncoiled.
He leapt down from the shelf with surprising grace, landing on the stone floor between them. His wings flared briefly for balance before folding tight against his sides. For a moment, he simply stood there—small, quiet, impossibly present.
He walked first to Selene.
Golden eyes lifted, studying her face with careful attention. Selene lowered herself slightly without thinking, meeting his gaze. There was understanding there—old, measured, and kind.
Then Alistar turned and padded toward Valerius.
The dragon stopped at his boots.
Valerius looked down at him, expression still, unreadable. Alistar's gaze held his for a long heartbeat—no fear, no challenge. Only acknowledgment.
A slow, thoughtful blink.
Then Alistar turned away.
He crossed the remaining distance and stopped in front of Anna.
She dropped to one knee instinctively, hands lowering as if to steady herself, eyes shining. "It's okay," she whispered. "Just for now."
Alistar chirred softly—low and warm—then crouched.
He sprang upward.
For a split second, his form overlapped Anna's chest—scales passing through air that wasn't there—
And then he was gone.
No flash. No sound. No lingering magic.
Just absence.
Anna gasped softly, one hand flying to her chest where warmth lingered, steady and alive beneath her ribs.
Selene exhaled slowly. "He accepted it."
Valerius stared at the place where the dragon had vanished.
"…A spatial anchor," he murmured. "Bound to her core."
Valerius straightened, something heavy shifting behind his eyes.
"Then this will suffice," he said. "For now."
He turned toward the window once more.
"Go," he said to Anna. "Prepare for school."
Anna rose, hand still resting over her heart.
Anna looked between them—between Selene's gentle smile and Valerius's carefully composed stillness—and felt her chest tighten with more than magic.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Both of you. For trusting me."
Selene stepped forward and placed a hand on Anna's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Go," she said warmly. "Before you start pacing holes into the floor."
Anna laughed—a light, breathless sound she hadn't realized she'd missed.
She bowed quickly, a little clumsy in her haste, then turned and ran for the door, boots tapping rapidly against the stone as she slipped out of the study.
The door closed behind her with a quiet click.
Selene watched it for a moment longer than necessary.
Valerius remained by the window, gaze fixed on the palace grounds beyond, where banners stirred in the wind and guards moved in careful patterns.
"She's ready," Selene said quietly.
Valerius did not answer at once.
Then, just barely, he nodded.
"Yes," he said. "She is."
Anna flew down the corridor, skirts gathered in one hand, boots barely touching the polished stone as she ran.
"Princess—!"
A maid carrying folded linens barely managed to step aside as Anna rushed past, the edge of her sleeve brushing fabric.
"I'm so sorry!" Anna called over her shoulder, already turning the corner.
Two attendants paused mid-conversation just in time to avoid collision.
"My apologies—truly!" Anna said breathlessly, laughter threading her words as she darted between them.
The palace, usually so composed and measured, seemed to ripple in her wake—maids blinking in surprise, guards exchanging confused glances as the youngest princess hurried past with uncontained energy.
She nearly collided with a servant bearing a tray of crystal goblets.
"Oh—! I'm so sorry!" Anna skidded to a halt just long enough to steady the tray with a quick, apologetic touch before spinning away again. "Thank you!"
Then she was off once more, hair slipping loose from its tie, heart pounding with a joy she refused to temper.
And as Anna's footsteps faded down the corridor, the empire held its breath—unaware that one of its greatest hopes had just run past, smiling.
She took the servants' stairs two at a time, laughter echoing softly against the walls, and burst into the quieter fourth floor of the eastern wing.
Her door came into view.
Anna nearly tripped over the threshold as she pushed it open, stumbling inside and slamming it shut behind her with a breathless grin.
"I'm going back," she whispered to the empty room.
She leaned against the door for half a heartbeat—then sprang into motion.
Drawers flew open. Clothes were piled onto the bed in messy heaps. Books were scooped up and stacked haphazardly, only to be reorganized seconds later with frantic care.
The warmth at Anna's chest shifted.
With a soft pop—more felt than heard—Alistar burst free, arcing through the air and landing squarely on the center of the bed. The mattress dipped under his small weight as he settled, tail curling neatly around his paws.
He sat there, very still. Watching.
Anna, meanwhile, was a whirlwind.
She yanked open another drawer, scooped up an armful of folded tunics, and flung them over her shoulder without looking.
They landed in a heap on the bed. On Alistar.
The dragon vanished beneath fabric, only the tip of his tail sticking out from under a sleeve.
Anna didn't notice.
She crossed the room again, grabbed a stack of books, then tossed them down beside the pile. A boot followed. Then a scarf.
From beneath the clothes came a very patient, very offended huff.
A small claw poked out, pushing a sleeve aside. Alistar's head emerged next, eyes blinking slowly as he surveyed the situation. He did not move away.
He simply sat there.
Letting it happen.
Anna turned back to the bed, arms full again—and froze.
"Oh—! Alistar!"
She dropped everything and scrambled forward, yanking clothes off him in a flurry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there—are you okay?"
Alistar shook himself once, dramatically, wings fluttering as if to say clearly I survived, then plopped back down in the exact same spot.
He looked up at her.
Unblinking. Judging.
Anna laughed, breathless and bright. "You could've moved."
Alistar tilted his head as to say.
Why would I?
She grinned and gently nudged him to the side of the bed. "All right, inspector. You can supervise."
Alistar curled his tail around himself and sat proudly, chin lifted, eyes tracking every item she packed as though committing it to memory.
Anna resumed packing—this time more carefully—still smiling, heart light, room full of motion and promise.
And beneath it all, the quiet certainty remained: She wasn't doing this alone.