Chapter CLXXV: In return
Rya arrived at the palace in the late afternoon, the sun dipping low on the horizon, casting the walls in golden light. Everything seemed normal, but before she could settle in, a servant approached her in a hurry.
“The king requests your presence in his office, Princess,” the servant said.
Rya nodded, her brow furrowing. She strode toward her father’s office, her thoughts racing.
When she entered the office, she found her parents and Zayr already there. Their expressions were tense, their worry palpable.
“What’s going on?” Rya asked, her voice steady despite the unease in the air.
Isabella fixed her with a concerned look. “Where were you, Rya?”
“Dragonspire,” Rya replied, frowning. “I told you I’d be there. I would’ve returned sooner, but Ikkar summoned Emberlace all of a sudden last night. Is he alright? What happened?”
Her parents exchanged a weary glance before Isabella sighed. “Your father locked the dragons in their enclosures to stop Ikkar from doing anything stupid. But Emberlace was out there, close enough for him to summon…”
Rya’s stomach dropped. “What was he doing? Why did you lock the dragons?”
Alaric leaned back in his chair, his voice clipped with frustration. “Ikkar fled the palace. He’s gone after the servant girl he’s infatuated with.”
“Talia,” Rya said, exhaling sharply.
Isabella’s eyes narrowed. “You knew about this?”
Rya raised a hand in defense. “There wasn’t much to know. Ikkar has liked her for years, but I don’t think anything ever happened between them.”
“That’s irrelevant now,” Alaric said, his tone biting. “What matters is that the Crown Prince is nowhere to be found. He’s abandoned his station and left the palace *right after* breaking the heart of the daughter of the most powerful lord of Theran. And Vantemo is still a guest here.”
Rya groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Shit.” She inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders. “I can find Emberlace. Let me take another dragon and bring Ikkar back.”
Alaric shook his head. “No. You’ve just returned, and I don’t want the guests to suspect something is wrong. I’ll send Mahir.”
“Mahir can’t find Emberlace like I can,” Rya argued.
Alaric frowned. “What do you mean?”
Taking a deep breath, Rya hesitated before answering. “I can see through her eyes.”
Her parents and Zayr stared at her, stunned. Alaric’s voice was sharp. “What? Since when?”
“Since I was twelve,” Rya admitted, her words cautious. “I saw Ikkar summoning his dragon once. I tried the spells, and it worked—but only with Emberlace.”
“That’s impossible,” Alaric said, shaking his head. “Only the first son is supposed to have that ability.”
Rya crossed her arms, her expression defiant. “Well, I’m your first daughter. Maybe someone forgot to check the ancient scripts on what that means.” She hesitated before continuing. “I never said anything because I was afraid you’d take Emberlace away from me—or lock me up in some tower, I don’t know.”
Her mother’s face softened with concern, but Alaric’s expression was a mixture of pride and frustration.
“Look,” Rya continued. “I know my place. I was born to be my brother’s second, just like Zayr. Let me find him and bring him back.”
Alaric studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Can you see where Emberlace is?”
“If she’s not too far, yes,” Rya said.
“Do it,” Alaric said, his voice decisive. “But Mahir will still go after him. You’ll stay here to entertain the guests tomorrow.” Rya just nodded. “Thank you, dear,” Alaric added softly.
Rya inclined her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. For a moment, she thought she saw pride flicker in her father’s eyes.
Alaric turned to Zayr, who had been silent until now. “Ikkar’s absence will be noticed. He told the princess he wouldn’t court her, that he loved another woman, and her father might see this as an insult.”
Zayr leaned casually against the wall. “I don’t think Alina has told her father yet.”
“Can you fix this?” Alaric asked, his voice heavy.
“Sure,” Zayr said with a wry smile. “I’ll court her myself.”
Isabella’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Lord Vantemo came here to marry his daughter to the future Dragon King. He might see this as an insult as well.”
Zayr shrugged. “Maybe. But if I ask his permission, it’ll seem less disrespectful. Besides, it’s better for him to believe that Ikkar stepped aside because I suddenly fell in love with the princess, rather than running off after a maid.”
Alaric nodded slowly. “Thank you, Zayr.”
Zayr held up a hand. “Don’t thank me yet, Father. I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I’m not in love with her, and there’s something else I want.”
Alaric raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
Zayr looked directly at Isabella. “I want the command of the Therian fleet.”
Isabella’s breath caught, her eyes widening. “What?”
“Yes,” Zayr said evenly. “The Therian soldiers should serve the Dragon King, not sit in Allendor. Kai doesn’t need them, but Ikkar might someday. And I should be the one leading them.”
Isabella’s jaw tightened. “This is why you want to marry the Therian princess—so you can legitimate your claim.”
Zayr bowed his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m sorry, Mother. I know you intended to leave the fleet to Kai in Allendor. But the Therians are a paramilitary force, and they should be at the Dragon King’s service, not to the Prince of Rosehall.”
Both Alaric and Isabella fell silent, exchanging a look. Their expressions wavered between concern and fascination as they looked at their children… Who weren’t exactly children anymore.
Rya and Zayr stood before them as adults, confident and self-assured. They had their own plans, their own ambitions, and no longer sought approval. They were no longer the little ones they once guided through the halls of the palace. They were grown now—clever, ambitious, and bold. They had plans of their own, shaped by everything their parents had taught them. It was both a sobering and awe-inspiring realization.
***
Sir Ian walked down the cobblestone streets of the village, the golden hues of the moon casting long shadows around him. He was on his way to the local tavern to enjoy a rare evening off with his peers. After all, he and his men had returned to the palace earlier than expected from their hunting trip, delivering Princess Rya safely to her family.
As he walked, Ian found his thoughts drifting back to her. Princess Rya. What a fascinating creature she was. He couldn’t quite place her—equal parts regal and wild, cunning yet disarmingly honest.
Lost in thought, Ian barely noticed the hooded figure brushing past him in the narrow alley. The figure didn’t stop, didn’t apologize. Irritated, Ian turned.
“Hey, you!” he called.
The figure paused, then turned. Ian’s irritation melted into disbelief. Beneath the hood was Princess Rya, grinning at him like she’d just caught him sneaking sweets from the pantry.
“Are you coming or what?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Ian blinked. “Princess?”
Rya didn’t wait for him to answer. She turned and strolled toward the tavern, the hem of her cloak swishing behind her. Ian sighed, shook his head, and followed.
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