Chapter 5

The afternoon sunlight danced between the branches of the flame tree, casting warm amber shadows across the private royal garden. A light breeze rustled the tall grasses, and the air smelled faintly of honeyed blossoms and burning leaves.

Seraphina walked slowly along the stone path, fingers grazing the ivy-covered wall. Her satin slippers made no sound. She often came here to clear her mind, but today wasn’t about peace. Today, she was looking for her brother.

She found him exactly where she hoped—seated beneath the old flame tree, his long coat undone, sleeves rolled, his usually composed expression softened as he looked out over the glistening koi pond. There was a looseness in his shoulders, a quiet in his aura.

She didn’t call his name right away. She stood there for a moment, simply watching him.

“I almost forgot what you looked like when you weren’t carrying the whole world on your shoulders,” she said softly.

Drakonios turned, and when he saw her, he smiled. Not the cold, restrained curl of his lips he gave nobles and ministers—but a genuine, familiar one.

“Seraphina.”

She crossed the grass and sank beside him, folding her legs like a girl again. “You’ve been slipping away lately. Not from duty—but from me.”

He glanced down, a faint glint of guilt in his golden eyes. “That was never my intention.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But something’s changed. You’re... warmer. Lighter, even. I’ve seen you smile twice in three days. That’s two more than I saw you smile all of last year.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is it that obvious?”

“I live in this palace. I notice everything. And I noticed you stopped brooding on the balcony every night.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. 

Seraphina looked at him, really looked. “It’s her, isn’t it? That girl. Elianna.”

His eyes flickered. “She’s... unpredictable.”

Seraphina leaned back on her palms, gazing at the golden sky through the red leaves above. “Unpredictable enough to disrupt your peace?”

“She doesn’t behave like the others,” he said, his tone unreadable. “She speaks too boldly. Stares too long. Questions too much. She doesn’t fear me the way she should.”

A faint smile tugged at Seraphina’s lips. “And that bothers you?”

“It unsettles me,” he admitted. “It’s not a desire. Not yet. But something about her feels... unfinished. Like a riddle that refuses to be solved.”

Seraphina smiled. “Maybe that’s what you’ve needed all along.”

He turned to her. “You don’t disapprove?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why would I? I’ve always wanted you to feel. You hide behind your power, your title, your armor. But I remember the boy who used to sneak me sugar apples from the kitchens and told me bedtime stories when I had night terrors.”

His voice went soft. “I remember that boy too. I miss him.”

“Then let him breathe again,” she whispered. “Even if it’s just in moments like this.”

They sat in silence for a while, the wind whispering through the garden. A soft peace settled between them, fragile but real.

Then, footsteps crunched over gravel.

---

Malric emerged from the hedge path with effortless grace, dressed in a deep blue tunic and leather cuffs at his wrists. His dark hair was tied back loosely, his eyes sharp but warm.

“My king. Sister,” he said, bowing respectfully.

Drakonios nodded. “Malric.”

Seraphina smiled. “Look who finally remembered where the garden is.”

Malric chuckled and walked toward them, hands behind his back. “I had reports to deliver. But when I heard you were both here, I thought I’d do it in person.”

He stopped a few paces away. “The warriors are holding formation well. The southern battalions completed their drills this morning, no signs of weakness. Supplies are steady, and the new recruits are responding well to training. We’ve had fewer injuries this cycle.”

Drakonios gave a small nod. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

---

The garden was calm under the warmth of the afternoon sun. Birds chirped lazily in the trees as a soft breeze carried the scent of jasmine through the air. Drakonios sat on the curved bench of white stone, his eyes following the swaying leaves but his thoughts elsewhere. Seraphina sat close beside him, her fingers threading through her long hair as she watched her brother’s profile.

"You seem more... open lately," she said softly. “Not haunted. Not hiding.”

Drakonios chuckled faintly. “You always exaggerate.”

“I don’t,” she replied, smiling. “It’s just... since that girl arrived, I barely see you. But when I do, your presence feels less heavy. Different.”

“She’s a storm,” he murmured. “And yet... she doesn’t even know it.”

Before Seraphina could ask more, footsteps approached swiftly. They turned in unison to see Elianna standing at the edge of the garden path, her face set in anger.

“Your Majesty. Princess. My lord,” she greeted curtly, bowing briefly but tensely.

Drakonios stood, immediately picking up on her mood. “Who told you I was here?”

“I asked the guards. They told me.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “I came here because I needed to speak with you.”

Seraphina stepped forward with a gentle smile. “Elianna, you’re welcome. I’m Seraphina, his sister. Please, join us.”

Elianna gave a deeper bow. “Princess. Thank you.”

Malric, standing just a step behind, nodded. “And I’m Malric, their brother.”

“My lord,” she said again with stiff formality.

But Drakonios, ever perceptive, cut to the heart of the matter. “You’re upset. Say what you came to say.”

Elianna’s expression tightened as she stepped forward. “You made a promise to my parents—the King and Queen of Kallistar.”

His eyes flickered. “I recall.”

“You said you would send funds. Resources. Grain. Medicine. Our people are starving, Your Majesty. My parents are holding a crumbling kingdom together while waiting on aid that hasn’t come. Do you know what it’s like to watch your people die while believing help is coming?”

Her voice trembled, but her eyes burned with fire. “They trusted you. I trusted you. And you’ve done nothing.”

The garden fell into silence. Even the birds seemed to hush.

Seraphina stared at her, stunned by the rawness of her words. Malric’s brows raised slightly, impressed, perhaps, by her courage.

Drakonios finally spoke, his voice low. “I didn’t forget the promise.”

“Then why hasn’t it been kept?” she demanded, stepping closer. “Did you lie? Was I just a pawn in some agreement?”

“No,” he answered firmly. “You weren’t. And I didn’t lie. But you’re right—I delayed. I had reasons, but they no longer matter. I owe your family nothing.”

Elianna’s breath caught, her anger shaking under the weight of his words.

“I’ll fix it,” Drakonios added. “Immediately.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then gave a small nod—but her jaw remained clenched.

Seraphina reached for her hand. “Sit with us for a while.

---

Elianna refused to sit.

Drakonios’s jaw flexed as he stepped forward, the faint shimmer of dragon energy flickering behind his eyes. “I said I will fix it. Do you not hear me, girl?”

Her head snapped toward him. “Don’t ‘girl’ me, Your Majesty. You think your word now is enough? My people are dying. My mother is sick from worry. And my father is sending envoys every moon begging for the help you promised!”

“You don’t understand how my court works,” he snapped. “There are chains of command, political games, greedy lords—”

“I don’t care about your excuses!” she shouted. “You made a vow, and your word should be law!”

Seraphina stood between them. “Both of you, calm down—”

“Stay out of this, sister,” Drakonios growled, his power rising like heat in the air.

Malric stepped forward too, tension in his shoulders. “Brother—”

“Don’t,” Elianna said sharply, pointing at Drakonios. “He thinks he’s a god because people bow. He’s forgotten what pain looks like unless it’s polished and painted.”

“You think I don’t know pain?” Drakonios stepped closer, towering. “I have lived through centuries of blood, betrayal, and loss. Do not lecture me.”

“Then act like it!” she fired back. “Act like a king!”

His hand twitched with rising flame. “Watch your tongue.”

“Why?” she laughed bitterly. “Will you burn me like you burn your enemies?”

A gust of heat burst from him, rustling the leaves, the grass darkening beneath his feet. Seraphina gasped and stepped back, shielding her face.

“I will not be disrespected in my own kingdom,” Drakonios thundered.

“And I will not kneel to broken promises,”.

Elianna’s chest heaved as fury surged through her. “You think because you're a king, your word means nothing? That you can toss promises aside like scraps?”

Her voice cracked with emotion, but she didn’t back down. She stepped forward, her eyes blazing, fists clenched tightly at her sides. “My people are starving. My parents are breaking themselves trying to keep hope alive. And you—sit here in your palace, playing god!”

Drakonios said nothing, but his expression darkened.

Elianna took another step closer, defiance in every line of her body. “You gave your word. And now you act like it was a game.”

The air between them thickened—not with magic, but with something far heavier: tension, rage, defiance. A sharp gust of wind rushed through the garden, kicking up a swirl of dust and fallen leaves. A tree branch creaked overhead, swaying from the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Elianna’s eyes didn’t waver. Her breath came hard. Her whole body shook—not from weakness, but from the force of holding herself together.

“If you're not going to help them,” she said through gritted teeth, “at least have the spine to admit you're a coward who hides behind a crown.”

A long, brittle silence followed.

Then Drakonios stepped forward, slowly, like a storm brewing.

Malric reached out, pulling Seraphina to safety as the tension between the two ignited like dry leaves to flame.

Elianna lunged forward, fist raised, aiming straight for his chest. Drakonios caught her wrist mid-air, his grip iron-strong, eyes narrowed with fire. “You’re brave,” he growled. “But reckless.”

She twisted, yanking her arm free with surprising strength, and shoved him hard in the chest. He staggered back a step—not from force, but from sheer disbelief.

“You don’t scare me,” she spat.

“You should be terrified,” he said coldly, taking a step toward her.

She didn’t retreat. Her chin lifted, eyes shining with fury—and something deeper, something wounded. “I’m not. Because I’ve lived through worse than you.”

The words landed like a blow. Drakonios froze, caught off guard—not by her strength, but by her pain.

Drakonios’s hand closed around Elianna’s neck, lifting her with terrifying ease. His eyes blazed, voice low and cold. “I could kill you with a mere snap of my hand,” he growled, his grip tightening. Elianna gasped, fingers clawing at his wrist, her feet barely touching the ground. The room darkened with his fury.

“Drakonios, stop!” Seraphina’s voice broke through the tension. “You’re choking her!”

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move—then his fingers slowly loosened. Elianna crumpled to the floor, coughing, as he turned away, jaw clenched.

Elianna’s shoulders trembled, not with power, but with bottled rage and unshed tears. Her hands slowly dropped to her sides.

Drakonios exhaled sharply, turning away, jaw clenched tight, his fists trembling at his sides.

Malric stood silently, eyes flicking between them, face unreadable.

Drakonios’s eyes darkened, his expression cold and unyielding. “You speak of promises, yet you come here defiant, refusing to see what it truly costs.”

Elianna’s breath caught, anger blazing. “I came for help. Your people are starving. My family, my kingdom—they suffer. What more do you want?”

He stepped closer, voice low but fierce. “I want to see your face, Elianna. I want you to show me who you are—not hiding behind anger or defiance.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And if I refuse?”

“Then no aid will be sent. No grain, no gold, no relief. Not until you do what I ask.”

Seraphina’s face paled. “Brother, this is cruel.”

Drakonios shook his head, unshaken. “It is justice. She has come demanding favors without respect, without understanding the weight of the throne she challenges.”

Elianna stood firm, hands clenched at her sides. “What exactly do you want from me?”

He fixed her with a gaze that was both commanding and unsettling. “You will remain here. You will learn the ways of this kingdom. You will show me loyalty and obedience before I extend my hand.”

The fire in her eyes flickered but did not die. “So you hold my people’s fate hostage... because of your pride?”

He nodded, voice icy. “Yes. Because a promise means nothing if it is not earned. Show me you are worthy, Elianna. Only then will I honor my word.”

The garden fell silent. Seraphina looked between them, torn. Malric’s jaw tightened but he said nothing.

Elianna’s mind raced — pride clashing with desperation. Finally, she forced herself to nod, voice stiff. “Fine. I will stay. But know this—I am not a pawn in your game.”

Drakonios gave a rare, thin smile. “Good. Then perhaps there is hope yet. 

King Drakonios narrowed his eyes, his voice cold and unyielding. “You want aid for Kallistar? I will give nothing until I see the truth in your eyes. Until you do exactly what I ask of you.”

Elianna’s chest heaved with anger. “You dare bargain with my people’s suffering? You promised my parents help, and now you hold it hostage to your whims?”

“Promises mean little without trust,” Drakonios said, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “Prove yourself first. Only then will I consider opening my hand.”

Her glare burned fiercely. “What is it you want from me, King? Tell me.”

Drakonios’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. “Come to my chambers tonight. Alone. If you refuse… then don’t expect your kingdom to see a single grain of my aid.”

Elianna’s breath caught, a mix of fury and something darker swirling inside her. She turned sharply, leaving the garden with her cloak swirling behind her.

Seraphina and Malric exchanged uneasy looks, the tension in the air thickening like a storm about to break.

  Drakonios’s voice dropped to a low murmur, “This is just the beginning…”