Dance of the Dragons

The grand ball continued in all its splendor. Candles hanging from chandeliers illuminated the enormous walls with a magical light, further enhanced by moonlight filtering through antique windows. In the background, an orchestral melody grated on my ears, and inside, an overwhelming crowd I didn't like. Everyone was either dancing to the orchestra, chatting and nibbling on refreshments, or perhaps making out in secluded corners. This was a celebration for my uncle's newborn son from his second wife, Lusine, who wasn't of the Vaemond lineage.

A new heir, new little troublemakers... This was my uncle's third son, his fourth child from Lusine. His middle child, his daughter Hesperia, was already betrothed to the king of one of the lower kingdoms. Complex royal lineages, increasingly branching families. Yet, even in this crowd, those of pure Etoyra descent stood out.

I had just left my uncle, the king, who was sipping wine on the his silver throne, chatting with us, and seemingly more relaxed after a long absence from the responsibilities of the throne. I was wearing a stylish leather suit, as always, which showed that I didn't particularly care about this invitation. My burgundy sash cascaded from my waist and chest to my shoulder, topped with a large embroidered dragon brooch. My hair was loose again, falling to my shoulders, but strands were filled with those small, carefully styled braids I had Asteria do some time ago and still hadn't altered. All eyes were on me. Not just for my appearance, but because I was the greatest claimant to the throne, at the birth party of my nephew, his new rival. Of course, I would attract attention. But my uncle had requested it, and the king's request is a command for us...

And the eyes on me didn't bother me in the slightest, because my gaze was fixed on a single point...

Asteria.

She wasn't far away, she was directly under my watchful eye. Those foreign hands on her waist...

She was dancing, with a stranger. She was like a whispered dream, her off-white hair cascading down her shoulders in that red dress embroidered with gold, drawing all the attention to herself. The idea of ​​someone else, anyone, touching her, looking at her like that, felt like an insult. Although I felt a slight boiling in my blood, my actions remained neutral; I kept myself calm. My uncle was here. The people were here. She was under my watchful eye..