The Dragon’s heir

Chapter Five – Blood in the Streets

Chapter Five – Blood in the Streets

The bells of the city tolled at dawn.

Their iron voices rang over the rooftops, summoning every soul to the square. It was the first day of the betrothal rites, the day the people would see me walk beside Princess Elira. Hand in hand. A prince and his bride, sealing peace with every step.

Peace. The word tasted like ash.

I stood at the palace gates, draped in ceremonial robes heavy with gold thread. Elira emerged at my side, her gown brighter than sunlight, jewels glittering in her hair. She moved with flawless poise, every step rehearsed, every smile sharpened into a weapon.

And behind me, as always, was Riven. His black armor gleamed dully, his presence a shadow I could not shake.

The horns blared, the gates opened, and we stepped into the roar of the crowd.

“Long live the prince!” voices cried. “Long live the princess!”

Flowers rained from balconies. Children waved banners stitched with the crest of my house entwined with Varr’s. Yet beneath the cheers, I heard something else. Hisses. Murmurs. A current of resentment that slithered beneath the surface.

“They would have us bow to Varr,” someone spat.

“Traitor prince.”

I kept my chin high, jaw clenched. I would not let them see.

Elira leaned closer, her lips barely moving. “Smile, Your Highness. They watch for cracks.”

I forced my mouth into a shape that felt nothing like a smile.

We crossed the square, climbing the steps of the ancient temple where generations of rulers had bound their vows. The priests chanted, incense curling into the morning air.

Elira’s hand slipped into mine, cold and precise. We knelt before the altar, golden bowls filled with dragonfire illuminating our faces.

And then

A hiss. The faint twang of a bowstring.

Instinct screamed.

Before I could move, a shadow collided with me, shoving me sideways. An arrow buried itself in the altar where my head had been, the shaft quivering, tip black with poison.

Gasps erupted. Guards shouted. Chaos roared through the square.

I hit the ground hard, and when I looked up, Riven was crouched above me, shield raised, his eyes blazing silver fire.

“Stay down,” he growled.

Another arrow whistled. He caught it mid-air. With his bare hand.

The crowd scattered, guards swarming the rooftops. I glimpsed a cloaked figure fleeing across the tiles, vanishing into smoke.

Within breaths, it was over. But the silence that followed was heavier than the chaos.

Back inside the palace, the council raged.

“This was an act of war!” Lord Carrow thundered. “The treaty is a farce!”

“Find the assassin!” Lord Tane barked. “Scour every corner!”

Through it all, I sat in silence, heart still hammering, the memory of Riven’s hand around mine seared into my skin. He had moved faster than any man should. As if he had known the attack was coming.

And Elira

Her gaze burned holes into him.

“You moved like one of them,” she said coolly. “Too fast. Too certain. Almost as if you knew where the arrow would fall.”

The chamber stilled. Accusations hung thick in the air.

Riven met her gaze without flinching. “If I had known, your Highness, the assassin would already be dead. I did what was necessary to protect the prince.”

His words should have soothed me. Instead, they twisted something deep inside. Protect the prince. Not protect Kael. Protect the crown, the treaty, the leash.

Still, I found my voice. “Enough. Without him, I’d be dead. That is all that matters.”

Whispers rippled. Elira’s smile was thin, brittle. “As you say, my betrothed.”

When the chamber finally emptied, I found him waiting in the shadowed hall.

“Why?” I demanded. My voice cracked, harsher than I intended. “Why risk yourself like that?”

His silver eyes caught the torchlight, molten and unreadable. “It’s my duty.”

“Duty.” I spat the word. “Don’t feed me that. You’ve disobeyed me at every turn. You don’t bow. You don’t yield. You don’t care for duty. So why me?”

He stepped closer, close enough that I felt the heat of him through my robes.

“Because you matter,” he said softly.

The words stole the breath from my lungs. For a moment, I forgot how to stand, how to breathe, how to be anything but the boy beneath his gaze.

And then, as quickly as it came, the moment shattered. He stepped back, shadows swallowing him.

“Sleep lightly, Your Highness,” he murmured. “The game has only begun.”

And before I could answer, he was gone.

That night, I sat by the window, staring out at the city lights flickering in the dark.

An arrow had missed my heart by inches. The assassin had escaped. My people whispered that I was a traitor. My bride eyed me like prey.

But none of that haunted me as much as five simple words.

Because you matter.

I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the echo of his voice.

Gods help me, I didn’t know whether to hate him for it… or to cling to it like a drowning man to driftwood.