1 The Dragon's Wife (01)

O N E

In the kingdom of Aster, the streets were full of life. The workers from the markets struggled to keep up with their customers, as friendly faces from neighbouring kingdoms filtered in. Fresh fruit and hot pastries were handed out; sparklers glistened against the moon-lit sky. Children danced and decorated posts with colourful ribbons or waited in line to get their faces painted with the emblem of the royal family: a gold dove.

People, near and far, travelled the distance to witness this notorious event: the young princess was becoming a woman. When the moon is to hit the highest point of the sky, everyone shall celebrate Charlotte's coming of age, her sixteenth birthday, and as tradition decrees it – she shall be engaged to a suitor of her father's choice.

Although the tradition went back centuries, Charlotte was less than happy with it. She had never been granted a taste of true freedom, for her parents had always kept her locked away in their palace. Her maids groomed her; her tutors nagged her; her parents dragged her away to elegant affairs, such as dinners and dances, where she was not allowed to utter a word. Only when she was cramped in a carriage with her parents did she get to see glimpses of what the kingdom was truly like. She could remember the smell of daisies from the fields and the cobblestone houses; the children, with their wide eyes and muddy feet, staring in awe as a group of horses pulled the royals along in a grand, white carriage. How she longed to be there with them, hunting for sticks and exploring vast forests.

Instead she was here, isolated in her bedroom until she would be called upon. Perched on the bed, her feet barely touched the floor. It was dark wood, painted with intricate patterns. The canopy of her bed reached the ceiling and framed her elegantly as she sat and pondered. The maids had bathed and dressed her; curled her hair without a strand out of place. The ashen locks felt tight on her head but not as suffocating as the corset of her dress, which hugged her ribcage. With a hem that swam past her ankles, the dress was a royal blue and soft to touch. It was made from the finest of silk. To be surrounded by such extravagances, it came as a shock to many that she wasn't happy, but Charlotte yearned for freedom from this structured life.

There was a thunderous knock on the door and before the princess could utter a word, her father marched in. The pair smiled pleasantly at each other and he sat beside her on the bed, a little box in hand. The king placed it in his daughter's palms and squeezed her shoulder.

"Your mother and I wanted you to have something special for your birthday. We had our guards scout all over the kingdom for the finest gift for our princess." As he told his story, he was the one to undo the ribbon on the box. Charlotte sat there, rigid. "It is one of a kind and when we saw it, we knew that it was meant to be."

He lifted the lid off the box to reveal a small bracelet nestled on a velvet cushion. The band was thin and the symbol in the middle was a dove mid-flight. He firmly placed it around Charlotte's wrist. It pinched her skin, like the jaws of a beast. It wasn't a present but a cage.

"It's beautiful," Charlotte murmured, looking up into her father's dark eyes with her own. "Thank you."

He gave her shoulder a final squeeze and got up, heading for the door.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I feel?" Charlotte asked softly, clutching the empty box to her chest. Her father paused in his steps. She couldn't stop her hands from shaking, nor her voice. "Today is the most important day of my life."

Her father took one final glance at her and without a smile to his words, declared, "You'll be fine," before leaving the girl alone once more.

* * *

With the wealthiest of guests packed into the ballroom, the air was filled with music and laughter. Guests (many of whom Charlotte had never seen in her life) danced and flirted, roaming around the large hall. The Gold family were positioned on a stage, the king in the middle, resting on a throne, with his wife on one side and his daughter on the other. Charlotte's mother was a portrait of beauty but as was expected of all women from this time, she was expected to remain silent and to not make a fuss. Her husband did not aid her with conversation but instead rubbed his beard as he surveyed the room. The royals were not allowed to dance but that didn't stop Charlotte from tapping her feet beneath her dress. She had been squeezed into a pair of pointed heels and it was probably for the best that she didn't dance after all, for she feared she'd fall flat on her face.

A shadow suddenly devoured her and she looked up, surprised to see her best (and only) friend carrying a tray of drinks. Despite being a maid, the girl was not afraid to be herself around Charlotte and the pair had become close. Her name was Rosie and it fit her well, for her cheeks were always blushing and her mood was always bright. Her hair was pulled tight into a bun and her maid dress hugged her curves.

"Your drink, my lady." She winked, placing a glass of red wine in her hands. "Be careful not to drop it down yourself. I know how clumsy you can be."

Charlotte poked her tongue out at her before composing herself. She watched as the girl passed drinks to her parents before sauntering off the stage into the crowd. Her position as a simple worker for the royals didn't stop her from being charismatic. Recognising the dance the guests were performing to be the waltz, Charlotte swayed in her seat. Despite it being a birthday affair, there was no excitement to be had, other than to watch the guests enjoy the night. If that was all to be had, then Charlotte would be satisfied. She could not allow herself to be selfish enough to wish bad on others.

Just as the song faded, the doors to the hall burst open with such force that the chandelier that hung from the ceiling shook wildly. The room chorused in a gasp and the guests fled to the walls, creating an opening for the uninvited swarm that charged in.

At the head of the brigade, to everyone's horror, was the leader of the Vega family. He ruled the neighbouring Kratos kingdom. Ramon Vega was a force to be reckoned with. The year prior, he and his men had slaughtered the former rulers of Kratos, leaving the kingdom bloodstained. Since then they'd been gaining power, creating enhanced weapons and armour. There was fear on all sides of the world as they wondered who would be next to taste Vega's wrath.

Once Ramon reached the front of the stage, he stopped, his hand on his sword that rested at his side. His armour was entirely black; spikes protruded from his shoulders and ankles. Behind Ramon was his wife, Lucianne, dressed elegantly in a black gown yet with a plate of armour covering her breasts and daggers tucked beneath her gloves. Her arm was linked with her son's and she wore a deadly scowl. The son, Luis, on the other hand had a gentler face. He was wearing a suit and carried a sword at his side but it looked more like a prop than a weapon he intended to use. When Luis caught Charlotte's eye, he looked away, flustered. She was petrified, frozen in her seat. Behind the royals was a number of guards, all clad in pitch black armour, their faces hidden and their weapons raised.

Some of the guests at the party darted for the exit, while others cowered in the corners of the room, clinging to each other. The guards of the Aster kingdom immediately took action, drawing their weapons and standing defensively between their King and the enemy.

"Now now." Ramon shook his head with a smirk, toying with the handle of his sword. "This is no way to welcome your party guests. Edward, Cecilia and dear Charlotte. It is a pleasure to see you all looking so well."

"You weren't invited." Edward rose from his throne, his body already trembling with rage. "Do you dare to threaten us on my daughter's birthday, of all nights?"

"Of course not. Who do you take me for?" The man chuckled, running a hand through his sleek, brown hair. His tan skin was dotted with freckles and his jaw was sharp. He could have been considered attractive, except his cruel personality made people think otherwise.

Queen Cecelia had risen to join her husband yet when she put a comforting hand to his back, he hissed at her to sit down and so she obeyed, trying desperately to hide how hurt she was.

"I know exactly the kind of man that you are, Ramon. You believe that you can claim our kingdom, just as you did with Kratos."

Charlotte couldn't tell whether Ramon's wounded expression was an act or reality. He crossed his arms and pouted like a child before turning to his son and motioning for him to come forward.

"Father, I-"

"As we rehearsed, child. Come on, we haven't got all day. Spit it out."

Luis was smaller than his father. He had soft brown eyes like his mother though they were obscured slightly by his messy hair. He didn't seem to have a trace of arrogance like his parents had. Ramon had to drag his son forward. He couldn't have been much older than Charlotte. Once his eyes locked with Edward's, he paled and forgot to breathe.

"Say it," Ramon threatened, his grip on Luis' arm becoming so strong that it looked like he might snap it off.

"Your highness... if you don't allow me to be the one to wed your daughter, creating the union of our kingdoms, then we won't hesitate to destroy each and every one of you."

Despite the softness of his words, they seemed to echo around the hall. Suddenly, the number of Kratos guards had multiplied. As the king looked up at the cry of his guests, he discovered that all of them were being held prisoner, with knives pressed against their throats. Tears streamed down their faces, whimpers could not be contained and the few guards he had were unconscious on the ground. There was no way for someone to send out a signal for help.

Shifting uncomfortably, he looked back at his wife and child. They didn't seem to realise that guards were behind them too, their weapons raised, glistening in the light.

Gulping, his brow furrowed and he cursed beneath his breath. He feared that this day would come but he hadn't realised that it would come so soon.

"Please, father, no!" Charlotte cried. Her dark eyes filled with fresh tears and she clenched her fists. So much of her life had already been thrown away and she knew that if she were to marry a Vega, then she would soon wish that she had not had a life to begin with.

"I accept your offer," Edward said, causing his wife to gasp with terror.

"Father-"

"Charlotte and Luis shall be wed."

Charlotte rose with anger, unable to stop her fury. Rage swelled in each step she took and it seemed to shake the walls of the room; her voice screamed louder than ever before. Too long had she been a puppet for her parents to abuse; too long had she been forced to keep her mouth shut. "You're no father of mine!"

The high windows shattered. The guests cried out. Shards of coloured glass fell from the sky as she ran. The royals and guards of Kratos allowed her to pass them.

When she reached the heavy doors, she slammed them shut behind her with as much strength as she could muster before she continued running up the stairwell to her room. Her heels got stuck on the hem of her dress on the last step and she stumbled, the fabric tearing. Grabbing the shoes, she threw them down the stairs with a growl, her perfect ringlet hair coming loose and spiralling over her shoulders as she continued running.

Once she reached her bedroom, she shut herself away inside and sank against the door, unable to stop her ragged breaths and tears. She knew that tonight would not have ended up as she'd wanted, but for it to take such terrible turn was heart-wrenching. Deep down, despite wishing that there had been a miracle that could have saved her, she knew that this was the only option. She would never have forgiven herself if innocent people had ended up dead because of her. It still didn't stop the anger and upset from taking over.

Minutes passed and it was only when she finally gathered her emotions that she noticed what was different in her room. There was a loud breathing, mixed with the sound of something cascading through air.

Slowly unravelling herself, Charlotte's heart hammered in her chest.

What if one of the Kratos guards had been in her room all of this time? The thought alone sent chills down her spine. Had the engagement been a ruse for something more dreadful?

But when she dared to peek up, what she saw was far more terrifying than she could have ever imagined.

Her window was open wide and peering in at her was the glazed yellow eye of a dragon.