Not the one expected of a Solenhart heir.
The choice of someone who wanted her freedom.
I tightened my grip on the dagger, steadied my breath, and turned my left hand outward. Then, breaking every rule I’d been raised with, I slashed straight across my palm, from edge to edge, the way a Dragontail would.
The pain was sharp, immediate, a clean bite of steel.
I did not scream.
I didn’t need to.
Gasps rippled through the legions behind me, whispers hissing like wind against stone. I didn’t look at them. I only lifted my bleeding hand over the Siren’s pond and let the blood fall.
The moment the first drop touched the water, the world dissolved. The background behind the Siren blurred into nothing. The arena, the students, the noise—gone.
It was only her and me.
What was this? No one had warned me about this.
I looked up at her, disoriented, the world around us swallowed in mist.
The Siren didn’t speak, not aloud but her voice filled me all the same. It resonated low and deep, vibrating through bone and blood.
“You are nervous, Solenhart.”
I didn’t deny it.
“You wish to change your destiny.” The Siren added.
A shiver ran down my spine, cold and sharp as a blade dipped in frost. She knew. There was no hiding from her. Not here.
“I know we Solenharts are Emberkeep by bloodline,” I said quietly. “Our magic is Emberkeep but what if that is not what my heart seeks?”
“Is that what they have told you? The lies run deep in the throne.” The Siren hissed.
Her words cut through me. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“It has been three centuries since I last granted a Solenhart to Dragontail,” she said, her voice echoing like water in a cavern. And in those years, none of your line has even dared to ask for it. Your bloodline has grown… too eager to keep power.”
I swallowed hard. “There isn’t a Dragontail Solenhart in history.”
“So you are told. But lies lie deep in the throne. You were not always Emberkeep. Solenhart blood was once fire and fury, strength and courage, born to fight without fear.”
Her words churned inside me. Solenharts were known for composure, not rage, for tactics and restraint, not brute power. She was describing Dragontail virtues. Valor, strength, the will to face death head-on.
“But why should I grant you Dragontail?” Her voice coiled closer, surrounding me. You are afraid. Insecure. You don’t even know the full measure of your power. You don’t know who you are. You only wish to run from the throne, from the crown, from the weight of your name.”
Her words struck deep, crushing the breath from my chest. Because she was right. I was afraid. I was trying to run.
But she didn’t know it all.
“Wait,” I said, my voice trembling but sure. “It’s true. I don’t want the crown. But I do want to do good. I want to defendthe heart of Rionis, to clear my family’s name, to stand for something more than ambition. I can only do that fighting, not hiding behind silk and ceremony. I promise I’ll learn. I’ll train. I’ll become someone worthy of Dragontail.”
I lifted my chin, meeting her gaze as light rippled beneath the surface of the pond. The Siren’s scales shone with the reflections of the fading sun.
“I won’t let you down,” I begged.
I stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes stared at me while I could only hear my heart pounding until the ground trembled beneath me. The air cracked like thunder. I dropped to my knees as the arena around me seemed to shatter and reform, reality folding back into place.
