The Dragon’s heir

Chapter One – The Crown’s Weight The crown always felt heavier at night. By day, it gleamed like a trophy, a symbol of honor pressed into my skull. Courtiers bowed, peasants whispered blessings, and I played the role they all expected. But when the torches dimmed and the palace sank into silence, I felt the truth. It wasn’t an honor at all. It was chains. I stood at the edge of my balcony, the stone cold beneath my palms. Below me, the city flickered with the orange glow of dying fires, each one a reminder of the lives that depended on me. Beyond the rooftops, the mountains stretched dark and endless, crowned with mist. Somewhere in those peaks, dragons slept, waiting for the day the bloodline faltered. My bloodline. Or so I had been told since the moment I first drew breath. I should have felt pride. Instead, I felt trapped. “Your Highness.” The voice behind me was not familiar. It wasn’t the soft tone of my attendants, nor the polished edge of a courtier. This voice was sharp, steady, deep enough to cut the air. I turned swiftly. A man stood just inside my chambers, half-hidden in the shadows. His armor wasn’t like any I had seen among my guards. Blackened steel hugged his body, worn but immaculately kept. A crest was carved across the breastplate sigil of House Varr. My blood ran cold. That was the enemy’s mark. His dark hair fell across his forehead in a careless sweep, his jaw sharp, his face scarred in a way that spoke of battles fought and survived. But it was his eyes that struck me hardest. Silver. Piercing. Cold as frost. “Who are you?” I demanded, my hand brushing the dagger at my belt. He bowed slightly, but it wasn’t the kind of bow a man offered a prince. There was no reverence in it. Only acknowledgment. “Riven of House Varr. I’ve been assigned as your bodyguard until the treaty is sealed.” The words stung. “A bodyguard?” My voice rose. “From them?” “Yes, Your Highness.” His tone was flat, a statement of fact, not an apology. “It was agreed by both councils. You will be guarded by me, and only me, until the marriage unites our clans.” So it was true. I had heard whispers that the treaty carried unusual conditions, but I hadn’t believed the council would dare insult me like this. To place me under the watch of a Varr warrior… a living reminder of the blood we had spilled for centuries. My gaze lingered on him. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his very presence filling the room like a storm. A longsword was strapped across his back, its hilt worn smooth from use. He looked more wolf than man, dangerous and unyielding. “You expect me to trust you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “No.” He didn’t flinch. “But you don’t have a choice.” The audacity. My chest burned with rage, humiliation, something I couldn’t name. He spoke to me like I wasn’t the heir to this throne. Like I wasn’t the man every soul in this kingdom depended upon. I stepped forward, close enough to catch the scent of leather and steel clinging to him. My voice dropped to a hiss. “I don’t care what treaty was signed. If you so much as breathe wrong in my presence, I’ll see you dragged to the dungeons.” For the first time, a faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Try it, prince.” Prince. The word dripped from his tongue like venom, as if it were an insult. My fingers itched to draw my dagger, to wipe that insolence from his face. But I didn’t. Something about those silver eyes, the sheer stillness in the way he held himselfmade me hesitate. He wasn’t afraid of me. Not at all. I turned sharply, striding toward the door. “Stay out of my way. I don’t need you.” Behind me, his voice followed, softer but sharper than steel. “Then prove it.” I froze. When I glanced back, he had crossed to the balcony I had abandoned, leaning against the rail as though it were his room, not mine. His arms folded, his gaze fixed on the mountains. His ease infuriated me. Something inside me whispered: This man isn’t just a bodyguard. He’s a storm. And I… I’m already standing in the rain. The next morning, the palace buzzed like a disturbed hive. Servants scurried with trays of food, tailors dragged in fabrics of gold and crimson, and the council filled the air with endless chatter about Princess Elira’s arrival. My betrothed. My chain in human form. I sat stiffly in the council chamber, listening as Lord Halden droned on about wedding processions and feast costs. The older noble’s voice rasped like dry parchment, yet every word carried the weight of law. I wanted to shout, to remind them that I was the one marrying a stranger for their peace, not them. But they never heard me. To them, I was not Kael, the man. I was Kael, the crown. I caught movement in the corner of the room. Riven. He stood against the far wall, silent as stone, eyes scanning every face. He wasn’t dressed in court silks or polished armor. He wore the same blackened steel from last night, scars visible where the metal parted at his throat. He didn’t fidget or bow. He simply watched, a predator among sheep. And I hated that my gaze kept drifting back to him. Lord Halden slammed his palm against the table. “The Varr delegation arrives within a fortnight. The prince will welcome them with dignity. There will be no delays.” The prince. They always spoke of me like I wasn’t in the room. I opened my mouth, but Riven moved first. His voice was steady, carrying across the chamber without effort. “Your security is lacking.” Silence fell. Every noble turned toward him, scandal flashing in their eyes. Halden’s face reddened. “And who are you to speak in this hall?” Riven’s expression didn’t shift. “The man responsible for ensuring your heir survives the next two weeks.” Gasps. Murmurs. I felt my blood heat. Not embarrassed, though the council surely thought I should be furious. No, what I felt was a dangerous thrill. For the first time in years, someone had spoken for me. Not over me. Not around me. For me. I caught Riven’s gaze. Silver, steady, daring me to contradict him. I didn’t. That night, I returned to my chambers restless, my head throbbing with council arguments and endless talk of duty. Riven was already there. Waiting. “You don’t belong in my chambers,” I snapped. His silver eyes flicked up, calm. “And you don’t belong in chains.” I froze, breath caught in my chest. He turned back to the balcony, shadows wrapping around him like a cloak. And though I hated him, though I swore I wanted him gone, I knew one truth in that moment: Riven of House Varr was going to change everything.