Lyra's POV
I'm going to die at a dinner party.
Not from an attack. Not from dragon fire. But from pure, crushing embarrassment that will actually kill me where I sit.
"The Queen will now offer the traditional blessing," announces an elderly dragon woman whose name I've already forgotten.
Everyone at the long table turns to look at me. Fifty pairs of sparkling eyes—gold, silver, red, green—all waiting.
I have no idea what the usual blessing is.
My mind goes completely blank. The teachers in Aurelia taught me how to curtsy and smile and which fork to use (I think), but nobody mentioned anything about a blessing. Did they forget? Or did they not know either because the real Princess Rosalie was meant to be here instead of me?
"I..." My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. "I bless this... food?"
Someone gasps. Another person drops their fork with a loud bang.
Even worse—I feel Kael's response through the weird bond thing that happened during the ceremony. Disappointment mixed with suspicion, rushing into my chest like cold water.
"Perhaps the Southern Kingdom has different customs," says a kind voice. Lady Seraphine, the phoenix woman, smiles at me from across the table. "In Emberfell, the new queen blesses the union of the kingdoms, not the meal."
My face burns so hot I probably look like a tomato. "Oh. Right. I meant... I bless the union of our countries. May we have peace and... stuff."
Peace and stuff? Did I really just say that?
A young dragon man snickers. Others talk behind their hands. I want to melt into my chair and disappear.
Through the bond, Kael's feelings hit me like a punch. He's confused. Really confused. Because he can feel that I'm not faking my mistakes. I truly don't know what I'm doing.
Which makes him even more suspicious about what I'm hiding.
I grab my fork to do something with my shaking hands and immediately realize I've picked up the wrong one. Again. There are five forks beside my plate—five!—and I'm expected to know which one goes with which food, but they all look the same to me.
The servant puts a plate in front of me. On it sits something that looks like a golden egg, except it's glowing slightly and steam rises from tiny cracks in the shell.
"Phoenix egg," says the dragon lady sitting next to me— Lady Mira, I think? Or was that Lady Myra? "A treat. Very rare."
I stare at the glowing egg. "We're... eating phoenix eggs?"
"Only the unfertilized ones, dear," Lady Seraphine says with pleasure in her voice. "The phoenixes offer them freely. It's considered an honor."
Everyone starts eating their eggs with the smallest fork. I copy them, opening the shell carefully. Inside, the egg white shimmers like liquid gold, and the yolk is actually red like fire.
It smells amazing—like cinnamon and smoke and summer sunshine.
I take a bite and almost moan out loud. It's the best thing I've ever eaten, warm and sweet and spicy all at once.
"You like it?" asks a deep voice.
I look up to find Kael watching me from the head of the table. His golden eyes are fierce, burning into mine.
"It's incredible," I say honestly, forgetting to be scared for a second. "I've never eaten anything like this. In the bo—" I catch myself just in time. I almost said "in the bookshop." "In the castle back home, we never had anything this good."
"Strange," says the snickering dragon man—Lord Something-or-other with silver scales. "I visited the Aurelian castle last year. The princess—meaning you—hosted a feast where phoenix eggs were served. You said you hated them."
Ice floods my blood.
The real Princess Rosalie held that feast. Not me. Because I'm not Princess Rosalie.
"I... people's tastes change?" My voice comes out squeaky.
Through the bond, I feel Kael's mistrust sharpen like a knife.
"Indeed," he says coldly. "Perhaps you could tell us about that feast, my dear wife. Refresh our memories."
It's a trap. He knows it's a trick. I know it's a trap.
"It was very... feasting," I say softly. "Lots of food. Very feast-like."
Lady Mira (or Myra) leans closer. "And you wore that beautiful blue gown with the dragon embroidery. I heard it cost more than a village. " I've never owned a dress that cost more than three silver coins.
"Yes," I lie. "It was very... blue."
"Actually, it was green," the silver-scaled lord says with a nasty smile. "Forest green with gold threading. Any real princess would remember her own dress."
The whispers around the table get louder. Dragons lean toward each other, sharing ideas. Some look angry. Others look excited—like they're watching a show and can't wait to see what happens next.
Through the bond, Kael's feelings are a storm. Anger. Betrayal. Hurt. And underneath it all—fear. He's afraid of being tricked again.
I want to tell him the truth. Want to scream it. But then I remember Magnus's cold smile, Papa's scared face, the threats that dragged me here.
"Perhaps my wife is simply tired from the journey and the ceremony," Kael says, his voice sharp enough to cut. "We should forgive small memory lapses."
But the way he says "my wife" makes it sound like a curse.
The next item arrives—some kind of meat that's still smoking. I don't know what animal it's from, and I'm too afraid to ask. Everyone else starts eating, so I do too.
It's tough and gamey, and I can't chew it properly. I'm sawing at it with my knife, making ugly scraping sounds, when I notice everyone else is eating it with their hands.
Of course they are.
I put down my fork and knife, my face burning again.
"Tell me, Princess," says an old dragon man with a long white beard. "How are your parents? I haven't seen King Edmund and Queen Margaret in years."
My mind goes blank. Who are Edmund and Margaret? Oh gods—the real princess's parents. Rosalie's parents.
"They're... very parent-like," I say stupidly. "Kingly and queenly."
The old man frowns. "I heard your mother has been ill with fever?"
Has she? Nobody told me this!
"She's... better now," I guess.
"Better?" The old man looks confused. "But I received word just yesterday that she's still bedridden."
I've just refuted information he got yesterday. Information I should definitely know about my own fake mother.
"I meant better than before," I say quickly. "But still sick. Better-sick. Sick-better?"
I'm rambling. Everyone can hear me talking.
Through the bond, Kael stands up so suddenly his chair scrapes loudly against the floor.
"My wife is exhausted," he says, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "The feast will continue without us. Enjoy the celebration."
He walks around the table toward me, and I feel his anger through the bond like a wildfire. Everyone watches as he takes my arm—gently, but firmly—and pulls me to my feet.
"Come with me," he says softly. "Now."
We walk out of the feast hall together, his hand burning hot on my arm. I can feel eyes following us, hear the whispers starting the second we leave.
"Where are we going?" I whisper.
"Somewhere private." His jaw is clenched so tight I'm scared his teeth will break. "Where you're going to tell me the truth about who you really are."
My heart pounds so hard I think it might explode.
We walk through passageways that twist and turn, going up stairs and down hallways, until we reach a door made of black stone. Kael pushes it open and pulls me inside.
It's a bedroom. His bedroom, I realize with horror. Massive and carved into the mountain itself, with a bed big enough for a dragon and windows that overlook the entire country.
He closes the door and turns to face me.
"No more lies," he says, and through the link I feel his heart breaking. "I can feel your fear. I can feel your guilt. I can feel everything through this terrible mate bond. So tell me—who are you really?"
I open my mouth to admit everything—Papa, Rosalie, Magnus, all of it—when the floor beneath us suddenly shakes.
An explosion rocks the house. The windows break inward. Kael grabs me and covers me with his body as glass rains down around us.
Through the broken windows, I see fire rising from the southern part of the castle.
And then I hear the screams.
"The heartstone chamber," Kael breathes, his face going pale. "Someone's attacking the heartstone chamber."
He releases me and runs to the window, shifting into his dragon form in a burst of heat and darkness. His huge body barely fits in the room.
Through the bond, I feel his fear. The heartstone is the source of all his kingdom's power. If someone ruins it, Emberfell falls.
He looks back at me with those burning gold eyes, and through the bond I feel his question.
Did you know about this? Did you help plan this?
"No!" I scream. "I swear I didn't—"
But he's already gone, throwing himself through the broken window into the night sky.
And I'm left alone in his bedroom, with explosions shaking the castle and that horrible question hanging in the air between us.