Shadow Beneath the Crown
980 Words
The garden was quiet, the air thick with unease. Moonlight shimmered on the still water of the koi pond as Seraphine stood beneath the flowering moonbloom tree. Her dragon median—an ethereal, silent creature—hovered nearby, its scaled wings folded close like a sentinel. The atmosphere was heavy, not from the night, but from the weight of secrets carried between breaths.
Selyra approached from the stone path, her dark cloak rustling softly. She stopped just a step away, voice low and urgent.
"Seraphine... how will you get Teavin out?"
Seraphine didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers trailed along a moonbloom petal, the pale violet glowing faintly in the dark. Finally, she spoke.
"I've found a way to speak with Alaric. He listens to me—barely, but he listens. If I can plant the right doubts... maybe I can reach him."
Selyra looked unconvinced. "He's not like the others, Seraphine. He's smart. He watches everyone."
"So do I," Seraphine said softly, eyes narrowing. "And he underestimates how far I’ll go."
Just then, Alaric himself stepped into the garden. His silver-trimmed robe shimmered beneath the moonlight, and a calm but urgent energy radiated from him.
"Seraphine," he said, gaze softening. "Come with me. My uncle is here. I want you to meet him."
She nodded. "Sure. Why not."
As they walked together, Seraphine could feel the heavy tension rolling off Alaric’s shoulders. He was playing a dangerous game—just like her.
The chamber where Vaelrik Draython stood felt more like a shrine than a meeting hall. Pillars lined with dragon sigils framed the high ceiling. Vaelrik was tall, regal, his eyes the color of dying embers—sharp and unreadable.
"Uncle Vaelrik," Alaric said respectfully, "this is Seraphine."
Vaelrik gave her a curt nod. "So you’re the moon-child who’s stirring our young king’s heart."
Seraphine dipped her head. "And you are the ember that whispers in his ears."
Vaelrik smiled faintly. "You have wit. That may serve you well."
Later that day, the royal court gathered under the Dragonspire Dome. The nobles sat in elevated rows, looking down like stars circling a dying sun.
Alaric stood, eyes scanning them. "Who here remembers Kaedor’s sons?"
A pause. Then one elder dared to answer. "Yes... but they are long dead."
Alaric’s voice hardened. "Who killed them?"
Whispers stirred. It was Queen Celeste who stepped forward, her voice calm, though her gaze burned.
"It was Seraphine’s uncle," she said. "He killed them because Kaedor murdered his nephew. It was not a crime—it was justice."
"So we say," Alaric replied. "But was it truly justice—or ambition masked as vengeance?"
The court fell silent.
After the meeting, Vaelrik found him alone.
"You did well to raise the question. But don’t linger on it," he said. "The dead are gone."
"I wish I had known," Alaric murmured. "I wish someone had told me the truth."
Vaelrik clapped a hand on his shoulder. "The only truth that matters now is your unborn child. That child will be descended from the Sun and Moon, and from the Night Star. A child of prophecy. Your legacy."
In Seraphine’s chamber, the tension was thicker than the incense smoke curling in the air. Her mother, Vyreth, entered, arms folded tightly.
"Have you heard?"
"What now, Mother?"
"We’re to visit all the tribes—Fangs, Claws, Gills, Wings, and Sea. Alaric has been crowned King of Dragons... and now King of All Beings."
Seraphine’s eyes narrowed. "That’s why you’re so happy? Hoping this child dies like the last?"
"No," Vyreth said quickly. "I wouldn’t wish that. Besides... this journey may help us free Teavin."
Seraphine stared hard. "How?"
Vyreth leaned closer. "I don’t trust Alaric any more than you do. But if he’s distracted by diplomacy, we can make our move."
"You hated him before," Seraphine said.
"I still do. But I won’t risk your child. I promise."
Outside, a maid who had been tending the incense quietly slipped away and made her way to Queen Celeste’s chamber.
Celeste’s rage was cold and calculating.
"So… mother and daughter conspire again. First they nearly cost me my son. Now they threaten my grandchild."
She turned to the maid. "Keep listening. Report everything."
Later that evening, Alaric retreated from the court to a quiet corner, the crown feeling heavier with every passing hour. He rubbed his temples.
Seraphine entered silently.
"Alaric."
He looked up. "What are you doing here?"
She said nothing, just took his hand and gently placed it on her belly.
"Listen."
"I don’t hear anything."
"Just... keep calm."
He closed his eyes—and then felt it. The faint flutter.
"It’s moving," he whispered, awe washing over him.
In that moment, something fragile passed between them.
Queen Celeste stepped in, her expression souring.
"You should be resting."
"Not anytime soon," Seraphine replied coolly.
After she left, Celeste turned to her son.
"You know what she is. Don’t let your heart blind you."
"She’s the mother of my child."
"And a pawn. But one that’s dangerous. Don’t fall too deep, Alaric."
He said nothing.
"Vyreth must be dealt with," Celeste continued. "She poisons Seraphine’s mind. I believe the attack on Seraphine—and the child—was her doing."
"You think she would kill her own daughter?"
"Yes," Celeste said darkly. "She sees too much. Knows too much. Listen to me—I am your mother. Now go. Enjoy the evening."
Elsewhere, Vyreth slipped a burning note to a cloaked figure.
"The plan must go on. Tell the Empress of Isle... exit immediately."
In another garden corner, Seraphine sat beside Selyra, the night wrapping around them like a cloak.
"Seraphine... how will we get my brother out?"
Seraphine placed her hand on her belly. Her eyes glinted with something unreadable.
"I’ve found his weakness."
She leaned in and whispered.
"To save your brother, Selyra... I’ll do anything."
- Writer
