***

  Linota hugged Cyran tightly before allowing him to leave, asking to play with the girls again. She was reluctant to see him go, but she knew that this was the safest place he had ever been. The tension that had coiled tight in her chest since they arrived had not fully faded, but it had dulled, settling into something quieter. Something manageable.

  She watched him bound off, his small figure disappearing down the hall with a bright grin and an energy that was almost infectious. Almost. The weight of the adoption papers still lingered on her fingers, the ink barely dry from where she had signed away something she never thought she would—her son’s name, his place in the world.

  Linota exhaled slowly, turning her gaze back to the table where Caspian and Isadora sat, both of them watching her with unreadable expressions. Caspian was leaning back slightly, arms crossed over his chest, while Isadora still held the quill she had given Linota to sign the documents. The reality of it settled in then, heavier than before. Cyran was now a prince. No longer just her son, but something bigger. Something that belonged to the imperial family as much as he did to her.

  “Do you regret it?” Isadora’s voice was gentle, but Linota heard the weight behind it. She had made her choice, but there was still room for hesitation. Still space for doubt.

  Linota shook her head, fingers curling in her lap. “No. It’s the best way to keep him safe.”

  Caspian hummed softly, tilting his head slightly, as if he were studying her. “Then there are some things you need to understand.”

  Linota frowned but nodded, keeping her posture straight. She had expected more conditions to come with this agreement—of course there would be rules, expectations. But she hadn’t expected the gravity in Caspian’s tone, the way his gaze sharpened slightly as he leaned forward.

  “There are three things you must never speak of to Cyran,” Caspian continued, his voice calm but firm. “Unless, of course, his life depends on it.”

  Linota hesitated for only a moment before nodding. Whatever it was, she would bear it. If it meant keeping Cyran safe, there was no burden she would not carry.

  Isadora leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on the table as she met Linota’s gaze. “First: Imperial children are not revealed to the public until their thirteenth birthday, so you cannot mention Cyran when you travel outside the palace and he cannot go with you.”

  “Second,” Caspian continued, his expression unreadable, “if you notice any signs of magic or unusual abilities manifesting in Cyran, you must report them to either Isadora or myself immediately. He is still young, and if he cannot control his power, it could put him in danger.”

  Linota’s breath hitched slightly, but she forced herself to remain composed. She had suspected it, of course—how could she not? Even as an infant, he had been different but she had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that it would not become something that others would notice. That they could hide it, as she had always tried to do.

  She pressed her lips together, nodding once. “And the third?”

  “You must never allow Cyran into the main palace alone,” Isadora said finally, her voice softer than before, but no less firm. “There are secrets in my parent’s palace that a child need not know.”

  It wasn’t a real answer, and Linota knew it. There was something else, something unspoken beneath Isadora’s words, but Linota knew better than to press. The imperial palace held its own dangers, ones that even a crown princess would not name outright. Whatever lurked beyond those doors was something Cyran could never know, and for as long as she could, she would ensure he never had reason to wonder.

  “I understand,” she said simply.

  ***

  My mother’s quiet breathing filled the room and despite the late hour, I found I couldn’t sleep. I had tried, but as soon as I laid down, thoughts and questions would swirl through my mind, refusing to let me rest. I shifted beneath the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as my thoughts tumbled over one another, trying to make sense of everything. The deal had been made. My mother had signed the papers. I was now a prince, and as a result, my mother was more protected than she had ever been in my past life.

  And yet, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I sat up, careful not to wake my mother as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The room was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon outside. I moved over to the window, surprised as I saw movement in the garden below. It didn’t take long for me to realize it was Tritetia, and I slipped on my shoes and padded toward the door as quietly as possible.

  My mother barely stirred as I eased it open, stepping into the dimly lit corridor. I had long since memorized the path out of the palace, my steps light as I moved toward the alcove. I dealt with anyone who saw me using my eyes, and soon the cool night air hit my skin, bringing with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and damp earth.

  I walked carefully through the stone paths, making my way toward the alcove I had shown Trietia during the game. She was already there, waiting, her sea-green hair illuminated by the moonlight and she didn’t even look up as I joined her in the hidden space.

  “Why are you here?” I asked quietly. We hadn’t agreed to meet again, and she didn’t seem the type to make a rash decision. Tritetia merely gripped her nightgown tighter and I noticed she was shivering slightly. “You’re cold.”

  “You’re not?”

  “I don’t get cold,” I sighed, glancing around the alcove for something to cover her up with. I heard the flapping of a cloth nearby and I stepped out of the alcove to notice the maids had left some clothing on a line nearby. I quickly slipped over and grabbed one of the sheets, bringing it back to Tritetia before wrapping her up in it. “Valaine will throw a fit if you get sick.”

  “Th-thank you,” Tritetia managed and I watched as she pulled the sheet tighter around herself, her small frame almost swallowed by the fabric. She still refused to meet my gaze, her eyes fixed somewhere near the ground, as if she was bracing herself for whatever she was about to say. I leaned back against the stone wall of the alcove, crossing my arms as I studied her carefully.

  “You came out here for a reason,” I murmured, keeping my voice even. “What is it?”

  Tritetia inhaled deeply, then finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. As soon as our eyes locked, I saw it—that strange, distant film overtaking her teal irises, the same way it had when she looked at my mother earlier. It lasted only for a second, but it was enough.

  “You still become a dragon,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  Tritetia hesitated, shifting her weight uncomfortably. “You still become a dragon when your mother dies.”

  I frowned, my mind working quickly through the implications. If I was still becoming a dragon as a teenager, it meant that becoming a prince hadn’t been enough to prevent my mother’s death and there was still another factor that led to it. My stomach twisted at the realization.

  Tritetia’s fingers tightened around the sheet, her expression unreadable as she continued. “But, your mother… it’s different every time I see it. When it happens, how it happens… keeps changing every time I look at her.”

  “So why did you tell me to accept?” I pushed, noticing that she was still shivering. Taking a deep breath, I sat down on the ground before pulling her next to me, forcing her to lean against me. I knew from my mother’s complaining that my body ran hot, and it would only get hotter as more of my abilities manifested. “If it doesn’t change anything, I–”

  “Your mother would have died as soon as you went back,” Tritetia revealed and I took a deep breath. “My visions… I always see the biggest moment in a person’s life and then if I spend more time around them, I can see the choices leading to that moment.

  “But your mother’s death keeps changing so much that I can’t see why it’s happening,” Tritetia’s voice got softer and I saw she was burying her face into the sheet. From the fear and worry in her voice, I could hear that she was afraid that she couldn’t help me at all and that I would abandon her because of it. I frowned, considering what I should do or say as she continued. “I don’t know how she’s going to die now until I see her again.”

  “It’s okay, Tritetia. You saved my ma today.” I decided, making sure to smile when she looked up at me. I needed to reassure her before she pulled away. “If we had left she would have died, like you said. We just have to keep changing it until you don’t see her die anymore.”

  Tritetia remained silent as she looked up at me, and I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward as she continued to stare, her teal eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe, or proof that I wouldn’t give up on this. I wasn’t sure what she saw in me at that moment, but after a few tense seconds, she nodded slowly, her grip on the sheet loosening just a little.

  “I think… someone else is affecting your mother’s future, not just you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone who knows what you are and wants you to transform.”

  I clenched my jaw, but forced myself to remain quiet. At the moment, no one but Tritetia knew what I was, but that would change as I got older. Once my horns appeared, it would be impossible to pretend I wasn’t a Draconid and it would only be a matter of time before the Marquess and his son learned. Turning me against the Imperial family after being adopted by them would be the kind of petty scheme the father and son would engage in.

  Killing them would be easier.

  I closed my eyes, forcing my breathing to steady. That had been my first mistake in my past life. I had let my rage dictate my actions, had thrown myself into destruction without thinking. If I wanted to do things differently this time, I couldn’t make the same mistake again. I needed to be patient. I needed to be smart.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I whispered, taking a deep breath as I felt Tritetia nod next to me. I felt as she leaned her head on my shoulder, but I didn’t try to push away. Once she was warm enough to get back to her room without catching a cold we could sneak back inside, and I could start considering how to deal with the Blackwoods.