Hanara stormed into her bedchamber. The door thudded shut behind her, and for a long second she just stood there, chest heaving. Moments later, Tael, her maidservant, entered with a soft smile. She bowed gracefully and laid a dress across the sofa.

“Your Highness, Her Majesty wishes to see you for dinner. We will be dining with the Dragon’s First Prince and his nephew,” Tael said gently.

Hanara glanced at her, cheeks flushing.

“Can I just eat here?” she asked, voice small. Tael raised a curious brow but suppressed a giggle.

“Did something happen at the river?” she asked. Hanara swallowed hard and met Tael’s steady gaze.

“Yes… I almost hurt someone who snuck up on me. I felt bad,” she admitted, frowning.

Tael froze a moment, letting the words settle, then knelt before Hanara and hugged her.

“Your Highness… Princess, you didn’t mean it. You just had a reaction,” she reassured. Hanara leaned into the warmth, pouting against Tael’s shoulder.

“Will Mother be upset at me for accidentally hurting our guests?” she worried.

Tael chuckled, gentle as wind.

“My sweet Princess. Her Majesty would never blame you. We all know how hard you’re trying to learn and stay in control. Don’t punish yourself for something you didn’t mean to do.”

Hanara nodded, ears burning, but the air in the room remained heavy—an unspoken tension that clung to her like smoke, a warning that the evening would not be ordinary.

Night fell, and the stars began to bloom. Hanara wore the dress Tael had laid out and stepped into the dining room with her heart still skittish.

Hansel sat in his booster seat beside Eliana, clapping at Hanara’s arrival. Eliana looked up and smiled warmly.

“My sweet birdie, come sit,” she invited. Hanara returned the smile and took the seat beside the little boy. He reached for her as if for a sunbeam.

“Ha-ba!” he called.

Hanara giggled and leaned in to tease him.

“My little Hansel is being such a good boy,” she said softly. He giggled back, fearless and bright.

The doors opened wide. Tait and Zilant entered in silence. Tait took the seat across from Hanara. Zilant settled beside him. The moment his gaze fell on her, something in Zilant tightened, recognition flaring.

That hair… It’s her. She’s the one from before.

He smiled, and Hanara smiled back—until their eyes met. Her smile faltered. A memory of her wild swing flashed through her mind. Was he hurt? Did he hate her now? A tremor hit her hands.

“I hope your stay at the palace is well, Commander Tait,” Eliana said with effortless grace. Tait bowed.

“It is. I thank you, Your Majesty, for the best hospitality in the Phoenix Clan,” he replied.

Felix entered then, planting himself at the head of the table and eyeing Tait with a groan.

“What does the Dragon Emperor want now?” he asked bluntly. “An alliance or war?”

Tait set his glass down.

“The Emperor has asked for your aid against the Tiger. They’ve rebelled and seized territory.”

Felix smirked.

“And why should I help? It’s not my problem as the Phoenix Clan ruler. Why should I aid the Dragon Empire when we have never done so in many years?” His voice was a blade wrapped in silk.

“Although that may be true, the land they plan to fight on will be near here. Near the Phoenix Clan,” Tait said evenly.

“Then protect your borders, and I’ll guard mine. Don’t drag us into your war,” Felix snapped. Their eyes locked, two currents clashing beneath polite conversation, before servants moved through the room, placing dishes and easing the tension like brief gusts of air.

Hanara reached for a dish as Zilant watched. He smiled, noticing how she peeled away certain ingredients. She fed the unwanted bits to Hansel, who took them obediently and clapped. Tait’s jaw tightened. Restraint sat on him like armor.

“I only came here with the order. No offense to the Phoenix King in any way,” Tait said at last.

Eliana’s look was sharp. Even so, it softened when she glanced at Zilant, who was still smiling at Hanara.

“So, dear Prince. What brings you here to the Phoenix Clan at such a young age?” she asked, curiosity plain in the tilt of her voice.

Zilant turned quickly, surprised by the attention.

“I’ve come because I was curious about how the Phoenix Clan lives.” He kept his posture precise, but he risked a look at Hanara.

“And what did you find out?” Eliana pressed.

Zilant froze as his eyes flicked to Hanara. She avoided looking at him. Then, in a voice that was both innocent and oddly candid, he said, “Well… That some people here are quite… unique and pretty.”

A ripple of surprise ran through the table, everyone except Hansel and Hanara. She felt the word like a spark along her skin, a heat that was both pleasing and dangerous.

“Pretty? Did you see something beautiful here that you couldn’t see at the Empire?” Eliana asked, amused.

Zilant nodded.

“Yes. Something that moved as fluid as water.” He wasn’t theatrical. He spoke with quiet awe.

Hanara’s heart thudded too loudly. No! He used that phrase. Her breath hitched, and anger simmered, oddly mingled with a guilty thrill.

Eliana’s eyes lingered on Zilant, and then on Hanara. He had seen her fire—and hadn’t flinched. A small smile warmed Eliana’s mouth.

“I see. You should eat. I will ask no more of you.”

The political current receded. As the plates cleared, a hush sank over the table—someone else’s storm gathering behind polite smiles. Hanara kept her eyes on the wood grain, feeling Zilant’s attention like a presence pressing at her back. Zilant wondered when she might look up—might acknowledge how he had covered their earlier encounter. Eliana noticed the exchange and nodded once to her maid, Elise. Elise took Hansel from his chair and led him to the nursery.

“You may head to your room, Hana,” Eliana whispered. Hanara rose and left immediately, cheeks tight.

Zilant watched her go, wanted to call after her, then restrained himself as Tait’s patient calm folded over him.

“Go on. I still have much to discuss with them,” Tait said. Zilant bowed and left the dining room.

As soon as the doors clicked shut, Hanara stopped in the corridor with her arms crossed. Zilant followed, curiosity softening his posture.

“Hi,” he said, voice low.

She pouted, trying to look annoyed.

“Why did you say that? My mother knows,” she asked. His face fell—he’d thought he’d covered everything.

“She does?” he said, unsure.

“My mother knows that only my fire moves like water… You pointed that out,” Hanara said, hurt peeking through her defensiveness.

Zilant frowned and scratched his neck.

“I’m sorry. I thought—”

“It’s fine… She doesn’t seem too upset about it. Promise me you won’t tell anyone, though.” Hanara reached out a pinky.

Zilant hesitated a heartbeat, then hooked his finger to hers.

“I promise!” His smile was honest and quick. She turned away, cheeks blooming. He followed, still watching her with an intrigued, almost warm curiosity.

“How come you walk around without an escort? Are you like… being bullied?” Hanara asked bluntly.

Zilant stiffened. He looked away, with fewer words at the ready.

“I… I don’t like having one,” he answered.

She stopped, then bumped into him.

“Ow! I’m… I’m sorry…”

“I’ve met some people like you. And it’s always because they were getting bullied that they have the same answer as you,” Hanara replied with a firmness that didn’t match her age. It was part sympathy, part stubbornness.

Zilant lowered his head. The question lay between them like a small wound. Hanara’s face softened. Without another word, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the palace.

“Princess…” he murmured as he followed.

She dragged him into the indoor garden. The palace hush felt farther here. The air smelled faintly of moss and something older—embers cooled into ash.

“Shh… they’re sleeping right now,” she whispered. Zilant nodded and found himself drawn forward by whatever hummed in the center of the garden.

Two great phoenixes lay coiled like sleeping lanterns. One of them peeled a purple-lidded eye open and addressed them with a voice like warm wind.

“Princess Hanara,” it intoned.

Hanara smiled and reached for the bird’s beak.

“Yelenis, this is a friend I made today… Can we go on a ride?”

The phoenix’s eye crinkled.

“Princess, your mother had told me to stop giving you late-night rides,” Yelenis said. Hanara pouted.

“But I want him to see the beautiful scenery at night,” she pleaded.

“If that’s what the princess wants, then I shall obey,” Yelenis replied with a slow bow. Hanara’s grin was all mischief and light as she climbed onto Yelenis’s back. Zilant watched, stunned more by her than by the bird.

She turned to him, hand outstretched.

“Come on! Before my mother finds out,” she urged.

He took her hand and climbed up behind her, folding himself into the warmth of her back.

“Hold on tight, Princess,” Yelenis warned. With a powerful sweep of wings, the phoenix launched them through the circular window and into the night.

They rose toward the moon. Yelenis’s feathers shimmered, red to violet, ember to twilight, casting strips of living color across the fields below like ribbons of flame. The wind was sharp and freeing. It clawed at Zilant’s collar. He clung to Hanara, exhilaration pressing into his ribs.

Hanara laughed, a bright sound that fluttered the starlight.

“Wasn’t that amazing? Let’s go past the meadow, Yelenis!” she cried.

Yelenis answered with a single, melodious cry and glided down toward the fields. Fireflies swirled like drifting embers just inches above the grass. Zilant breathed in, eyes wide.

“Whoa! This is awesome!” he shouted above the wind.

Hanara raised her arms to feel the air, eyes closed in bliss. She exhaled, and a slender ribbon of blue flame leaked from her palms—no heat, only light. The little flames hung in the air like lanterns, drifting behind them like scattered starlight. Zilant stared, mesmerized. The magic wasn’t dangerous here. It was delicate and wondrous, a child’s secret trick and a crown’s quiet defiance.

This is amazing… Her fire doesn’t hurt. It feels ticklish and looks so beautiful… Especially at night.

When the ride ended, Yelenis eased them back into the indoor garden and bowed her great head. Hanara clapped and twirled, cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, Yelenis! That was fun!” she cheered.

“My pleasure, Princess,” Yelenis rumbled. The phoenix retreated to its nest as the lights of the garden winked on. Hanara’s smile faded into a nervous grin.

“Hanara Solaris! Do you think I won’t find out? Sneaking out like this is dangerous—especially with guests in the palace.” Eliana’s voice cut through the night like a blade. Hanara ducked, then turned, forcing a nervous smirk.

“Hello, Mother. I was… bringing a friend for a ride,” she answered, hoping Eliana would not scold in front of Zilant.

Eliana watched Zilant a heartbeat longer, then fixed Hanara with a sharp look.

“Tsk. Get out of the garden and let them rest. Your uncle is looking for you, worriedly.” She added, softly, to Zilant, and the prince nodded, looking at Hanara.

She mouthed a small, breathless “Bye.” He smiled back.

“Goodnight,” he said before leaving.

Hanara held Eliana’s gaze until the prince’s footsteps faded. Then Eliana frowned.

“Follow me, now.”

Hanara straightened and obeyed, the laughter and wind still clinging to her. Eliana’s bedchamber was all midnight blue and smooth order. She sat waiting, poised as always with tea at hand. Hanara stood by the fireplace, shoulders jittery.

“Here you go, Your Majesty,” a maid said. The maid was unfamiliar. Hanara’s eyes narrowed. There was a faint, odd scent in the room, like smoke without flame, and it made something in Hanara’s stomach twist.

“You could have endangered that prince…” Eliana said, sharp enough to yank Hanara back to herself.

Hanara knelt, hands clasped.

“I’m sorry. I just thought I should have made him happy…”

Eliana sighed and took a sip of her tea. The room felt small and close. The maid’s movements were too smooth, like a bird that never stumbles. Hanara’s gaze slid to the cup at Eliana’s lips.

“Don’t drink th—”

Eliana’s cough split the air. It began as a small, shocked sound, then turned fierce. She clutched the cup. Her hands trembled. A flush climbed her face, unnatural and quick. Her skin flushed, veins darkening like roots under fragile bark. This was no ordinary choking. Hanara watched in horror as colour fled from Eliana’s composure.

“It’s the—” Hanara’s warning died in her throat. A remembered name rose from the hollow part of Eliana’s memory: sunfire nectar. Her father had drunk it once, and she had seen the way it ate through calm and left only fever and scorched edges behind.

Eliana’s grip tightened on Hanara, eyes glassy but fierce.

“Hana. Leave. Go get your brother and leave!” she gasped, voice cracking with something like command and plea.

Hanara froze—not from obedience but from a refusal to go. Tears pricked and rolled down her cheeks. She refused to go where her mother told her to run. Tael burst through the door then, shoulder bleeding, face lined with alarm.

The sound that came with Tael was not only human breath but metal: the clash and ring of steel being taken up. Tael stumbled to Eliana’s side, and all at once the palace seemed to split open with a new, terrible sound.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness. The Dragon Knights have infiltrated the entire palace!” Tael cried.

Everything narrowed to the single word. The air smelled of smoke and a danger that had been gathering, patient and cold. Hanara’s heart slammed against her ribs as the world tipped, and the chapter snapped shut on the sharp, urgent edge of invasion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 🪶 🔥 Princess, Don’t Waver ❄️ 🐉 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~