A brilliant golden glow brushed the horizon as dawn broke, just as we left the cave. The world appeared deceptively calm, as though the night had been nothing but an illusion. But the sharp look in Kieran's eyes, and the firm grip he kept on the hilt of his sword, reminded me that the real danger often hides in daylight.
We walked along winding paths between trees and valleys. This land was my home—I knew it well—yet seeing it now through the eyes of someone hunted made it feel like foreign ground. Every shadow seemed to hide a watching gaze, and every birdsong sounded like a warning.
"We're close to the palace," Kieran whispered after an hour of walking, concealing himself behind the trunk of an ancient tree.
"From here, the road becomes much more exposed."
I studied the scene before me. The white palace of Nevis gleamed in the dawn light like a jewel carved from ice.
It had once been my home.
Now it looked like an enemy's fortress.
"How do we get inside?" I asked, trying to hide the tremor creeping into my voice.
"There's a secret path. One your mother used."
He said it quietly, but his words struck me like thunder.
"My mother? How do you know about my mother?"
He looked at me, and in his eyes I saw a buried sadness.
"She was a friend of my father's… before the war swept everything away."
He gestured toward a hidden slope between the rocks. "This path will lead you straight into the inner gardens of the palace."
I followed him, struggling to process this new revelation. My mother—who died when I was still a child—had known Kieran's father?
How much of my past had been hidden from me?
The path was narrow and steep, with trees tangled along its sides. Yet it was clearly maintained, even if in secret. When we reached the entrance of a concealed cavern, Kieran suddenly stopped.
"From here… you must go alone."
"Alone? But—"
"Yes." He cut me off. "If I enter with you, it would be suicide. They would declare me an enemy and kill me before I could say a word."
He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked at me seriously.
"You must face Valkar first. You are the rightful princess. Your people will follow you—if you give them a reason."
I felt the weight of responsibility settle heavily on my shoulders.
"And if I fail?"
"If you fail," he said calmly but firmly, "Nyktis and I will come for you. Even if it costs us our lives."
These were not empty words. I saw the determination in his eyes. I saw the man willing to burn the world to protect those he cared for.
With trembling hands, I touched the dagger he had given me.
"Then I'll go."
Before I turned away, he caught my hand.
"Eliana… wait."
He pulled a simple silver necklace from beneath his cloak. Two dragons were engraved upon it, their bodies intertwined.
"It belonged to my mother. They say it brings protection."
I took the necklace from him. It was warm from the heat of his body.
"Thank you."
And as I turned to enter the cavern, I heard his final whisper behind me.
"I know you will succeed."
I stepped into the darkness, carrying the necklace of my former enemy against my chest. And I knew that the fate of my kingdom no longer rested in my hands alone—but also in the hands of the man who stood behind me, waiting for my signal to come to me, bringing with him the power of the black dragon… and the power of a heart that had begun to melt for my sake.
The secret passage was cold and dark, but Kieran's necklace radiated a strange warmth against my chest. With every step, I felt its weight like the promise I had made to him.
I was not walking toward my home.
I was walking toward the homeland that had been stolen by a stranger.
The path sloped upward, carved carefully into the rock. Ancient carvings lined the walls—dragons fighting and entwining—telling the story of our endless war in a single silent narrative.
I stopped before one carving: a black dragon and a white dragon intertwined in a perfect circle.
It looked exactly like the necklace hanging around my neck.
Had my mother known this truth?
Had she died carrying this secret?
I finally reached the end of the passage, where a hidden stone door stood. I pushed it slowly, and it slid open in astonishing silence.
I stepped into a familiar place: behind my mother's marble statue in the palace's inner garden.
The place was deserted at this early hour. Only birds chirped softly, and the air carried the lingering scent of night flowers.
I took a deep breath, gathering myself.
I had to be Princess Eliana—the strong, confident ruler.
But I was no longer the same person who had left this palace weeks ago.
Now I carried secrets that might burn me… and my kingdom with me.
I slipped through the white marble arches toward the royal wing.
The silence was unsettling.
Where were the guards? The servants?
The palace seemed asleep—but it was the sleep of death.
At the entrance of the throne room, I saw him.
Lord Valkar.
He stood before the tall window, watching the sunrise with the calm authority of a rightful king. He wore a black coat lined with fur, and his silver hair was tied neatly behind his head.
When he turned, a victorious smile spread across his sharp, hawk-like face.
"Eliana."
He spoke my name without any title.
His voice was soft as silk, yet threaded with quiet menace.
"The lost princess has returned to her fold."
"This is my home, Valkar," I replied, struggling to steady my voice. "And I am not lost."
"Really?"
He stepped closer, his blue eyes glittering.
"You have returned… but you are not alone, are you? The Black Prince waits in our mountains, awaiting your signal."
My heart nearly stopped.
How did he know?
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't lie to me, little one," he said, now only a few steps away. The scent of his perfume filled the air.
"I have eyes everywhere. Even inside the Black Prince's fortress."
Nausea twisted in my stomach.
Was there a traitor among Kieran's people?
"Why, Valkar?" I whispered, trying to stall for time.
"Why this betrayal?"
His answer was simple.
"Because peace does not build empires. And weak men like your father do not deserve a throne."
At that moment, we heard the sound of great wings outside.
A familiar sound that made my heart leap.
Glacier—my white dragon—had returned to the palace.
Valkar glanced toward the window, his smile widening.
"Speaking of weakness… I believe your personal guardian has returned."
His gaze returned to me.
"But will he protect you from me?"
I looked back at him, realizing that the real battle had just begun.
Not a battle of swords—
But of will.
And I had to win it. Not only for myself, but for Kieran waiting in the shadows… and for the truth bleeding beneath the snow of betrayal.
Glacier's cry pierced the tall windows—a sound filled with concern and tension. He could sense me. He could feel the danger surrounding me.
Yet his presence outside felt like another prison.
Meanwhile Valkar smiled with quiet confidence, as if hiding one final winning card.
"He's waiting for you, isn't he?" Valkar said, gesturing toward the window. "But will he come inside to save you? Will he risk entering his enemy's den?"
"You understand nothing about dragons," I said, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. "Or loyalty."
"Loyalty?" Valkar chuckled softly.
"Loyalty is merely an illusion invented by the weak. Power is the only truth."
I stepped closer to him, Kieran's necklace burning warmly against my chest.
"My father… what did you do to him?"
"Your father is ill, little one," Valkar said with a smile. "A terrible illness that has weakened his will. But he is still alive… for now."
A painful wave of relief mixed with anger surged through me.
My father was alive.
But he was a prisoner in his own palace.
"Why? Why all of this?"
"Because Nevis deserves a stronger ruler."
His blue eyes blazed with ambition.
"A ruler who can unite both tribes under one banner.
Mine."
In that moment, I finally understood.
This was not merely hunger for power.
It was madness—delusions of grandeur.
He believed himself the hero who would create peace through absolute domination.
"Kieran… the Black Prince… will never allow that."
"Kieran?" he mocked the name.
"That creature hiding inside him? He is no prince. He is nothing."
"And when you die… killing him will be much easier."
He raised his hand and gestured toward the guards at the door.
"The princess is tired from her journey."
"Take her to her chambers. And do not let her leave."