The great hall of Drakonis Keep lay wrapped in unnatural silence. Not the peaceful hush of mourning, but the heavy, suffocating quiet that comes when even the stones themselves hold their breath.

The queen was dead and that alone was enough grief to break a realm. But the dragons which are the ancient guardians of the royal bloodline had refused to appear.

No thunder of wings, no curl of smoke from the mountain peaks, no fiery silhouettes circling the spires in solemn vigil.

The skies above the keep remained empty, and the people whispered that the dragons were either locked away in rage or punishing the king for some unseen sin.

Rumors raced through the corridors like wind through dry grass.

"Have they been sealed in their lairs?" one servant asked another. "Or are they furious at King Aden for letting the queen fall?" No one had answers.

The gates of Drakonis’s realm had been barred tight for days, refusing entry or exit to any outsider.

The royal blood knew the truth they dared not speak aloud, the queen’s death was a wound the Dakonis felt in their bones.

Inside the crypt chamber, all the royal blood stood in a solemn half-circle before the queen’s bier.

Outside the iron-bound doors, the lesser nobles and guards waited, heads bowed, feeling the weight of the moment press down on them like iron armor.

The ceremony could not begin because tradition demanded the presence of Prince Ashen before any rite could proceed.

King Aden stood rigid at the head of the bier, his once-mighty frame now gaunt, eyes hollow with exhaustion and fury held in check.

He glanced at his aides. One nodded silently and slipped out. Moments later the heavy doors groaned open.

Ashen entered first, clad head to toe in flowing white samite, the ancient mourning color of dragon-riders, pure as fresh snow on mountain peaks.

The fabric was heavy silk embroidered with faint threads of silver that caught the torchlight like distant stars.

Over his shoulders hung a long cloak edged in black dragon-scale leather, clasped at the throat with a single obsidian dragon-claw brooch.

At his side walked Lumina.

She moved like moonlight given form. Her gown was like the attire of the old queens of Drakonis the layers of translucent white gossamer over a fitted under-robe of pale moon-silver silk.

The outer layers floated around her like mist, sleeves so long they brushed the floor, trailing behind in gentle waves.

The neckline rose high at the back in a stiff collar embroidered with tiny silver dragon-wings, but the front dipped modestly to reveal only the hollow of her throat.

The gown was belted low with a simple cord of braided white silk, no jewels, no gold,. Only one thing adorned her. hidden beneath the heavy folds of her left sleeve, pressed against her wrist, lay the thin silver bracelet Ashen had given her.

A single small dragon-scale dangled from it, warm against her skin, the only secret luxury she allowed herself in this moment of public sorrow.

She wore no jewelry otherwise. Her blindfold soft white silk embroidered with faint silver threads remained in place, hiding eyes that saw more than most realized.

Her hair, unbound, fell in long pale waves down her back, catching the torch flame like spun moonlight.

Every eye in the chamber turned to her.

Briella, standing near the far wall, felt heat rush to her face. Her fists clenched at her sides as she watched

Ashen’s arm curves protectively around Lumina’s waist, guiding her forward with quiet tenderness. The sight burned worse than any insult.

They reached the bier. Ashen stopped before his mother’s still form, Lumina at his side.

Adam’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. "It’s our mother’s funeral, and you decide to dress like royalty on parade? You waste time while we wait?"

Ashen did not look at him. His gaze remained fixed on the queen’s face peaceful now in death, but still carrying the faint lines of pain from her final moments.

Adam stepped closer, voice rising. "And you bring her here? Your wife is the sister of a traitor. I see no reason she should stand in this sacred place."

"Adam!" Ashen’s roar echoed off the stone walls, raw and dangerous.

King Aden lifted a trembling hand to his forehead, weariness etched deep in every line. "Enough," he said quietly, but the word carried the weight of thunder. "The family cannot be punished for blood ties alone. And tread carefully, boy. She is a princess of the celestial line before she became your brother’s wife."

Adam laughed a short, bitter sound that cracked in the middle. "Brother? You call him brother? The same one who doesn’t care enough to hurry for his own mother’s rites?" He smirked, eyes glittering with hurt and fury.

King Aden’s jaw tightened. He said nothing, but the sight of Lumina so elegantly dressed, so composed only deepened the storm in his chest. He was furious, yet too drained to unleash it.

Then Lumina moved.

She dropped gracefully to her knees before the bier, hands pressing flat to the cold stone. Tears spilled from beneath her blindfold, tracking silently down her cheeks.

"Your Highness!" she cried, voice trembling with perfect anguish. "I know I am the sister of one who has wronged this realm. But never not once have I wished harm on anyone here. I am blind... I chose this gown only by touch, by feel. Forgive me if it offends. I meant no disrespect."

The king drew a long, shuddering breath. Ashen stared down at his wife, shock flickering across his features at how flawlessly she played the part of vulnerable,.

"It is... forgiven," King Aden managed at last. "I should be the one asking your forgiveness for my son’s words. I will speak to him. He will not repeat them."

Lumina’s shoulders shook harder. "I wish I could turn back time," she whispered. "I would stop all of this."

Alexis, standing near the wall, watched with narrowed eyes. A small, cold smirk tugged at his lips. She was too good.

A sudden booming announcement shattered the moment.

"Arrival of the Shadowver King!"

King Aden’s head snapped up. "How does he know?" he demanded, voice thick with anger.

Ashen’s gaze flicked to Briella. She swallowed hard, color draining from her face.

Lumina wiped at her tears, allowing Ashen to help her stand. As she rose, she caught the Shadowver King’s stare directly, knowing. He winked once, quick and deliberate.

Her breath hitched. She forced calm, but something cold crawled down her spine.

The Shadowver King spoke smoothly. "My sister never summoned me. I simply... received word from those who watch."

King Aden’s eyes narrowed, but he shook his head. "Very well. Let the funeral rite begin."

Lumina slipped her arm through Ashen’s, fingers tightening. Ashen glanced down at her worried face.

"I have a feeling he knows I can see," she whispered, voice barely audible. A shiver ran through her.

Ashen looked toward the Shadowver King, who had already turned away. Then he caught a faint, acrid scent drifting from the man. Something familiar. "This smell... I have perceived it before," he muttered.

Lumina stiffened. Her body went rigid against his, suddenly aware of how close she stood. She pulled her hand free, stepping back a fraction.

"Still nothing on the antidote?" she asked quietly.

"Ashen!" King Aden’s voice boomed across the chamber. "Control your wife." Lumina offered a small, fragile smile as the rite began.

First came the chanting low words in the old tongue, invoking the first dragons who bound themselves to mortal blood. Then the anointing: a single drop of dragon’s blood preserved in crystal placed on the queen’s brow. The drop hissed faintly, sealing her spirit to the flame eternal.

Next, the family laid hands on the bier, one by one, whispering farewell. When Ashen’s turn came, he rested his palm over his mother’s heart and spoke no words, only letting a single tear fall onto her skin.

Then the pyre was prepared stacked beneath the bier with sacred cedar and dragon-bone ash. The torches were lit.

But before the fire could be kindled by mortal hand a deafening roar split the night outside.

Flames erupted beyond the walls. Screams rose from the courtyard and this made Lumina freeze.

Another roar deeper, angrier. She had heard dragon calls only once before, when Ashen lay wounded near death. Never like this.

Fire bloomed again outside the windows. Ashen yanked her behind him, shielding her body with his own.

King Aden stepped forward, face pale but resolute. "Open the barricade!" he ordered.

Guards obeyed, though terror shook their hands. The massive iron gates groaned wide.

Dragons poured in the seven huge wings blotting the stars, scales gleaming black, crimson, and gold. They circled once, then dove straight toward the crypt hall.

The Shadowver King ducked behind a pillar as fire washed over the chamber.

Ashen wrapped both arms around Lumina, turning his back to the flames. Heat roared past them, scorching the air.

"Stop!" Ashen bellowed, voice cracking with fury.

The dragons obeyed at once mid-breath as Flmes died in their throats.

Every head turned.

The queen’s body had caught. Fire licked up the white shroud, devouring silk and flesh in seconds.

"You... you burned my mother!" Adam screamed, lunging forward.

A dragon exhaled warning flame. Ashen flung out his hand telekinetic force slammed Adam back, pinning him against the wall.

The queen’s body burned completely, crumbling to ash in heartbeats.

The largest dragon tilted its massive head toward Ashen.

"Why did you come here only to destroy?" Ashen shouted.

The dragon’s voice echoed inside his skull, deep as mountain roots.

"Something abominable has happened here. See that it never repeats."

The dragons wheeled once more. The great sire fixed its burning gaze on Lumina. Ashen stepped fully in front of her. "Stop!"

The dragon huffed once hot wind that smelled of sulfur and old stone then spread enormous wings. The rest of the flight followed, thundering out into the night.

King Aden swallowed hard. The dragons had never ignored a royal command before unless it was hidden.

He looked down at the pile of ash that had been his wife.

"The rite is over," he said hoarsely. "Gather her ashes. Pour them into the river at dawn."

"Father!" Adam’s voice cracked with disbelief.

The sky outside turned blood-red. Thunder rolled without clouds.

King Aden swayed, clutching the edge of the empty bier. "Adam... can’t you see? The dragons burned her themselves. That means your mother... she strayed from the old ways. She broke faith with Drakonis. This is their judgment."

"Father..."

"Get it into your head. The queen is dead. The rite is completed by the dragon fire. Everyone returns to your chambers. Now."