Chapter 103: Drogon Drakon
Raphael's POV
I walked toward Ava’s palace. It had been empty for the past six months. After countless attempts on her life, I had no choice but to move her to my personal chambers.
Yet, in the end, I still couldn’t protect her.
I sighed deeply, my footsteps slow as I made my way to the garden, the one I had cultivated with my own mana.
She had accepted all the flowers I gave her back then. Now, I had them planted throughout her palace, tending to them myself. I never allowed anyone else to touch them.
This place was my second favourite in the entire kingdom. A sanctuary. Here, I could be myself after a long day at court, which, lately, had been every day.
"I knew you'd be here," Caleb said, stepping forward, scrolls clutched in his arms.
Gemma trailed behind him, her expression impassive. Caleb had lost a drastic amount of weight. He looked exhausted.
"Hello, Caleb. Gemma." I nodded in greeting.
Gemma bowed a sign of respect required by Lystra’s customs. Caleb didn’t. He never did. When we were alone, he was more friend than subordinate.
I wondered what had brought him here this time.
"Councilor Atticus has returned with news, Your Highness," Caleb announced.
That was fast.
"It’s only been a day," I muttered, settling onto the wooden swing I had built for Ava. I had seen something like it in her realm and thought she’d like it when I designed this garden.
Caleb exhaled sharply. "I still don’t understand why you agreed to it, Raphael. Those councillors can't be trusted, especially Atticus."
"Why?" I mused, tilting my head. "Atticus seems like the only sane one among the seven."
Caleb scoffed. "Your Highness, you might not know this, but Atticus lost his eldest son in the Mesodomica War."
I stilled.
We had lost many soldiers in that war. Many of my men.
"Arabus," Caleb continued, his tone even perilous, "was Councilor Atticus’s eldest son. He was the head of the Lycanthrope guard. It was their duty, his duty, to obey your command."
I already knew that.
But I also knew that going to war hadn't been necessary. I had been blinded, by love, by bloodlust, by Grey. I regretted it every single day.
But how did Caleb know this? He hadn’t even been around back then.
I narrowed my eyes. "Caleb, is there something you're not telling me?"
"My King," Gemma interrupted, her voice cold, indifferent as always. "Rumors say Atticus blames you for his son’s death. And that he’s the one funding the rebellion."
Is that so?
Many in Lystra blamed me for the loss of their sons. I bore that burden willingly. But what did that have to do with Princess Allora entering the temple?
"And how does that connect to the princess?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Caleb inhaled deeply. The hesitation in his stance told me everything, I wouldn't get the full truth from his lips.
So, I read his mind instead.
"How do I tell him that Atticus’s second son is the High Priest of the temple?"
So that was the issue.
Caleb feared they would turn the princess against me. That they would use her to keep Ava lost forever.
"Your Highness," Caleb finally spoke, still lying through his teeth, "I just don’t think it’s a good idea. That’s all."
I hummed in response. Understandable.
But Allora wasn't the one meant to heal Ava—or find her.
Gwen was. The man beside Gwen had promised he could.
"I understand, Caleb," I said at last. "I’ll ask Allora if she wants to enter the temple. Though she is weak, and she might need healing." So entering the temple is important since none of the healers could heal her.
I fear she might have been cursed just like Ava. Although, unlike Ava, she could still speak. She wasn't completely lost.
I turned my gaze away from them, my fingers brushing absently against a blue primrose. A delicate blue butterfly rested on its petals.
And all I could think about was her.
I could still see her, dancing in the garden, her laughter ringing through the air as butterflies swarmed around her.
Goddess, I missed her.
"My King," Gemma’s voice broke through my thoughts. "We’re sorry about your mate. We should have been more vigilant."
"It’s not your fault, Gemma. I told Caleb the same thing."
Caleb flinched. He looked pale, sweat beading down his forehead despite Lystra’s constant cold.
"You can stop blaming yourself," I told him. "I will bring her back."
But he wouldn't meet my eyes.
"She might already be dead."
No.No, she wasn't. If she were, I would have felt it. The mate bond would have dissolved.
"I’d like to be alone," I said, forcing a small smile.
They nodded and retreated inside.
I rocked myself gently on the swing, remembering how Ava used to do the same, her maids surrounding her as she laughed.
If I had stopped her that day, if I had stopped her from doing something so reckless, she would still be here.
I keep failing the people under my care. And to make matters worse, I am bound to an ancient, mad beast.
Would my parents have ruled Lystra as I have? No. They wouldn’t have united the different species. They wouldn’t have forced them together. But I did.
They came to wage war against me. I won. That doesn’t make me a bad person, does it? I even spared them. I made them part of Lystra.
Then why didn’t you spare Mesodomica?
A tiny voice whispered. My breath hitched. I knew that voice. I shot up, scanning the garden. Was she here?
I searched. Desperately.
But there was no one.
I sank to my knees, overwhelmed. I just needed Ava. She was the only one who understood me.
"Vessel, stop searching. She is not here. But we will get her back."
Grey’s voice was soft. Uncharacteristically gentle.
I snapped my head up. "How do you know that? We’ve searched everywhere."
It was the truth. I had ravaged the witch’s clan, districts, and towns. There was nothing.
My only hope was the vision of her that I saw last night. And the fact that I could still feel our bond.
"The fireball will find her," Grey murmured. "So pull yourself together."
I never thought a day would come when Grey would be the one consoling me.
I have only ever known his bloodlust. His need for destruction.
"...How do you know him, Grey?" I asked after a moment.
Grey hesitated. "It’s a long story."
I frowned. "I want to know."
He was quiet for a while. Then, finally, he spoke.
"His name is Drogon Drakon. The ancient dragon."
Oh. Another ancient beast.
I exhaled slowly. "Hmm..."
"He was once the one placed in charge of guarding me."
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