Chapter 4 — Fire Beneath the Silence
The night after the forbidden incident passed without peace.
Lyra couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faint red glow of the chained door… and heard that heartbeat again, echoing softly inside her chest.
She rolled over in her bed, tangled in sheets that smelled faintly of roses and smoke. Outside her window, the moon was high — pale and distant — and the air was heavy with fog.
He said not to go there, she thought, pressing a hand over her heart. But what if someone is suffering inside?
She remembered the sound. That wasn't the roar of a beast. It was pain. A wounded cry. A plea.
Her candle flickered out again, though she hadn't touched it. The room grew darker. And for a second, she thought she saw something outside — a shadow, passing across her balcony.
A figure with wings.
Her breath caught. She rushed to the balcony doors and opened them, but there was nothing. Only the distant forest and the mountains that framed the Dragon Palace.
Then, faintly, she saw a trail of fire in the clouds.
---
At dawn, the palace woke before she did. Servants rushed through the corridors, whispering nervously. Lyra stepped out of her chamber, confused, her hair still loose around her shoulders.
"What's happening?" she asked one of the maids.
The girl hesitated. "His Majesty… he hasn't left the western tower since last night."
"The western—?" Lyra frowned. "You mean the forbidden side?"
The maid paled and bowed quickly. "Please, my lady, don't speak of that place." Then she hurried off, leaving Lyra standing alone.
But now Lyra's curiosity burned brighter than fear.
---
Later that morning, she was summoned to the throne hall.
The massive doors opened, and she stepped inside — the same place where she had been chosen, yet it felt colder now.
Auren sat upon his throne, his expression unreadable. His hair was slightly damp, his gaze distant, like he hadn't slept.
"You disobeyed me," he said simply.
Lyra froze. "I— I'm sorry. I only heard—"
"I don't care what you heard." His voice was calm, but the air around him shimmered faintly with heat. "You nearly broke a seal older than this kingdom itself."
She bowed her head. "I didn't mean to—"
"Do you think intent matters to curses?" His words cut like a blade. "One touch was enough to wake it."
Lyra's heart twisted. "The heartbeat… was that—"
He rose suddenly from his throne. "Enough."
The flames in the chandeliers flickered wildly, reacting to his temper. For a moment, she saw something behind his eyes — a flicker of gold light, like fire trapped behind glass.
He stepped closer until his shadow covered her.
"You are not to question me again," he said, voice quieter now. "You will stay in your chambers until the Feast of Binding. After that… your duty will begin."
"Duty?" she repeated softly.
"The role of a queen is not love," he said. "It's obedience."
Then he turned and walked away.
But as he did, Lyra noticed something strange — a faint burn mark on his hand, like a scar newly awakened.
The same hand that had touched the chained door.
---
That night, Lyra couldn't stop thinking about it. The mark. The roar. The way his voice trembled for just a second when he spoke of the curse.
He's afraid of it, she realized. Afraid of what's inside.
And maybe… afraid of himself.
When she finally drifted into sleep, the dreams came.
She was standing in a cavern of fire. Chains hung from the ceiling, glowing red-hot, and at the center of them — a dragon.
Its scales were black as ash, its eyes burning gold.
It looked at her.
And in its eyes, she saw sorrow.
> "Free me…" a voice whispered inside her mind.
"Please."
Lyra gasped and woke up with tears on her cheeks. The candle beside her flickered to life on its own, and her reflection in the window looked different — like her pupils had turned faintly gold for a heartbeat before fading.
She pressed a trembling hand over her chest.
The heartbeat she heard wasn't from the door.
It was from inside her.