The Dragon Sea

Chapter 7. Flame Mark

Our eyes met. I hadn't anticipated looking into those green eyes flecked with gold on my first day here. I wasn't prepared for this meeting, but it wasn't like I had other options.

"You?" He arched his brow, waiting for my confirmation.

"Yes," I acknowledged with a bow of my head. "Your— Majesty?"

I still had no idea who he was and wanted someone to clarify that for me. His face did not match the pictures of the only Prince and the King, yet he sat on the throne as if he belonged there, and no one had said anything about it.

Just like back then, he threw his head back and let out a laugh, only this time there was nothing sincere about it. It was cold and lifeless, yet everyone around us supported him with chuckles and giggles as if their life depended on it.

"Sure, let's go with that," he shrugged. "Now tell me, why are you lying?"

That part I was ready for.

"I am not." I lowered my head in submission. I wanted him to feel in power before I struck. "In truth, I cannot be sure that I am her; it's just that—"

"So, you are not sure, and yet you chose to waste this court's time," he summed it up, rolling his eyes. "This is boring. Throw her into the sea! I think we are done here."

The guards grabbed my arms, ready to drag me away.

"Wait!" I protested, confused and angry. Wasn't he going to give me a chance to explain myself? "I have a flame mark!"

"Any tattoo artist can give you that!" he retorted, waving me off. "Get rid of her."

"Girl," the older guard whispered to me, "do not object. This is a merciful death at the very least, trust me, it could have been so much worse considering you are dealing with this monster."

Something here was not right.

The doors behind me opened again, slamming hard against the walls either side, and I saw a woman in a long red and gold gown standing there with a handful/scattering of attendants behind her. Her presence commanded attention, and the intricate beading on her dress shimmered in the light, making her seem even more imposing. Her long, mostly silver hair cascaded down her back, while two thick dark red strands were braided into an intricate hairdo. It was an interesting contrast for sure, and by now, I knew that it had to do with the number of years her dragon had before its death. Once her hair turned completely silver, her time would be near.

Despite all that, she looked to be in her fifties, which for a dragon probably meant she was a few hundred years old if not a thousand. There was something regal about her, and the few wrinkles lining her face did not diminish her at all.

"Sitting on our brother's throne, Reagan?" She stepped forward, each movement measured and deliberate. The guards paused, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. My head darted back to the man who kissed me that day…

"All the other seats in the room were taken," he shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Probably because there is only one seat here." His sister arched a reproachful brow. "So, what is going on here?"

"Nothing much, Sinead," he replied nonchalantly, tracing a diamond on the throne's armrest. "Just another one of Danica's impostors."

"Did you say… Danica?" the woman gasped, her eyes widening in shock as her attention suddenly turned to me.

"Sinead, please," Reagan straightened his back, furrowing his brows. "We can't let Ardyn go through this again. Not now."

"That's not for you to decide!" She brushed him off, strolling towards me. The guards still held my arms, their grip tightening as the Dragon Princess approached.

She gently cupped my cheek, turning my face left and right as she studied it. Then, she examined a strand of my hair, curling it around my finger.

"Danica was paler," she murmured, but luckily it couldn't influence anything. Leviathans had been breeding with other cultures for centuries and came in all shapes, forms and colours. "And you are like a luminous bronze pearl—"

My eyes went to the one she called Reagan, who was still watching us from the throne. He was nowhere near pale, either.

The corner of Sinead's lip went upward as if she had read my mind.

"But the most important thing is the mark, isn't it?" She let go of me. "Is it still on your chest?"

That was a trick question.

"No, I am sorry." I lowered my head again. "It was never on my chest— I am so sorry. I had no idea Princess Danica had it on her chest. Mine is… right behind my ear. Here."

I moved my hair, tracing the mark witches gave me, the mark that cost me so much pain just for this moment alone.

Luomei's aid Murong had to carve it into my flesh with a fragment of a dragon's scale dipped in dragon's blood, both of which were hard to obtain in the first place. He had to etch it again and again because my fox regeneration was causing it to vanish each time. The blind witch chanted spell after spell, infusing the fake mark with her own magic, something that caused her to faint twice during that whole process.

I screamed at the top of my lungs every time, because the scale slicing into my flesh felt like acid, and yet we ended up with the same predicament each time— my skin cleared up within a few hours.

Eventually, Luomei came up with a potion, using the last remaining strands of Nica's hair Rafael discovered in a hairbrush in her old room at the pack house.

"If this doesn't work, nothing will," Luomei said, rubbing her eye under the sunglasses.

"You can take them off," I suggested, realising that she was probably overheated after hours spent by the cauldron.

"It's fine. Let's try again." The witch shook her head, placed the little bottle onto my palm, and closed it safely with my fingers. It always saddened me how uncomfortable she was about her scars.

She made me take a sip of the bitter liquid and then poured the rest on the skin behind my ear, gesturing to Murong, "Continue."

This time, the pain tripled. I felt every nerve ending in my body burning as tears streamed down my face.

"I can't—anymore—" My breath came out in shallow pants.

"You can do this!" Luo grasped my hand, entwining our fingers together. "The potion will give you some of Danica's essence. Thanks to that, a part of her will always be with you, and that mark will be as authentic as possible. Not quite the real thing, but even the dragons could not tell the difference."

***

"That indeed looks like Danica'a mark," Sinead said, the wrinkle between her brows deepening. "I would know. I held her in my arms right after she was born."

"A mark can be faked," Reagan retorted, shifting on the throne.

"It can also be checked," his sister gave him a reproachful gaze. "And you, of all people, should know that! Isn't that how we confirmed that you are our father's son?"

She turned her attention back to me, but I could only stare at the man on the throne, who pressed his lips tightly together at his sister's remark.

That actually explained it. I did not have any information on him because he was a bastard, and dragons took that seriously.

"Do you really want to put Ardyn through that again?" He stood up and descended the dais.

"I think we owe it to our niece," the woman offered me a reassuring smile. "Darling, I would like to add a spark of royal fire to your mark. If it's legitimate and of our blood, it will glow, recognising its own magic." She locked eyes with me, her friendly expression hardening. "But if it's not, you will feel the most excruciating pain as the royal blood repels you, and you will end up with an ugly scar and permanent damage no matter what your real kind is. Now tell me, are you ready for that test?"

I sucked in a deep breath before responding. "Up until recently, I thought I was just a human. I want to know the truth just as much as you do. I am ready, Your Highness."

Many considered Luomei the best witch of our generation and a true prodigy. She may have lost her eyes, but not her gift and knowledge. She assured me that this would work, and I have to believe it.

"Sweet child," Sinead brushed her palm over my cheek, moving my hair away. I tilted my head to provide her with better access to my mark and closed my eyes, praying to the Moon Goddess and Fenrir, desperately hoping that all of this wasn't for nothing.

I felt her nail scratching my skin, followed by a slight burning sensation. I expected it to be painful and braced myself for the repercussions of my actions, but that was about it. Instead, a blinding light seeped through my eyelids, causing me to stumble back.

I hit something and immediately someone's hands yanked at me and turned me around.

"Who the hell is that?" demanded a male voice, and I opened my eyes to see the new player in the room. He was tall and lean, yet strong and broad-shouldered at the same time. His ginger-coloured hair fell in soft, short waves around his forehead as he glared at me with his amber eyes.

"Aeron, it's so good that you joined us so soon after I summoned you!" Sinead joined the two of us and placed her hands on both our shoulders as we stared at each other in disbelief. He studied my face eagerly as if he had just seen a ghost. "Aeron, dear, this is your sister Danica! We finally found her—"

"It can't be—" the Crown Prince of Draigmorr whispered, his fingers digging into my flesh through my coat. I knew there would be bruises, but I really did not mind.

After all, this was exactly why I orchestrated our first meeting three years ago. Right during the Spring Solstice celebration…