Chapter 35: _ She is Not a Bird; She is the Stone

Zevaranthius Daegal [Heir to the Tiger Throne]

Ivar was a terrible liar.

The idiot was arrogant, power-thirsty, and possessed the moral compass of a starving feral hound, but subtlety had never been in his repertoire.

He lacked the patience for it. Which was precisely why, for the past twenty-four hours, watching him try to pull off a cover-up had been painfully pathetic.

When Ivar had returned from his assignment with the Dragonless girl a night ago, I’d been lounging in his quarters, fully expecting a mouthful of his usual boastful tirade. Instead, the Wolf Prince had been overtaken by an uncharacteristic, jittery rage.

"What did you learn about her?" I’d asked, watching him tear through his own room like a manic beast.

"She’s... she’s perfect," Ivar had stammered, his eyes darting to the floor.

Then he’d caught himself actually complimenting her when he coughed rather awkwardly. "I mean—she’s dumb. Gullible. A complete waste of space. We don’t have to worry about a thing, Zev. All we have to do is flex a little power, and she’ll follow us like a stray dog."

Then, his face had fallen into an expression I had never seen on him before. Did Ivar just seem... concerned?

"Even if it’s to her death."

I didn’t miss a thing. I never did. While Ivar relied on brute force and bluntness to carve his way through the realm, I survived on observation. I calculated. And what I calculated in that moment was that my partner in crime had completely lost his footing.

"Did something happen out there that I need to know about?" I’d asked suspiciously.

Ivar had jumped like a startled cat. "No! Nothing happened! Everything went according to the damn plan!"

He’d overacted so severely it was embarrassing. I instantly regretted outsourcing the recon to him. One of my informants near the Sunken Arch had already reported that Remus had also been spotted in the area around the exact same time as Ivar and the markless girl.

In any normal scenario, the mere mention of Remus would have sent Ivar into a three-hour rant about politics. The fact that he hadn’t uttered a single word about his sworn rival proved something massive had occurred near that stone archway.

Ivar thought he was hiding it. He genuinely believed he could keep a secret from me. It was almost cute.

Now, sitting on my elevated throne in the grand hall of the Lion Academy, I flicked a speck of dust off my dark cuff and resisted the urge to claw my own eyes out.

"A magnificent turnout tonight, wouldn’t you say, Zev?"

The melodic voice belonged to Ajax, who sat on the throne directly to my left.

I turned my head slowly, meeting the Lion Prince’s warm gaze. Ajax was wearing his signature, humble smile—the one that made the noble court sigh and whisper about his gentle soul and benevolent heart.

It made my stomach turn.

At least Remus, Raice, and even Ivar were honest about being ruthless bastards. They didn’t cover their cruelty with warm smiles and pretend to be saints.

Ajax, on the other hand, played the part of the merciful prince so convincingly that half the realm actually believed he didn’t despise every single person in this room.

"Enchanting," I replied in a flat tone, almost rolling my eyes like one of those darn spoiled noble girls that were currently an eyesore with the flirty gazes they were sending my way.

"I especially enjoy watching two hundred high-borns suffocate in their own perfume."

Ajax let out a soft laugh, clapping his hands together gracefully. "Always the cynic. Though, I must admit, I am surprised your shadow isn’t here yet. Ivar rarely misses an opportunity to show his face at a party."

"He’s fashionably late," I said, leaning back and resting my chin on my knuckles.

In truth, Ivar’s absence was the biggest tell of all. Ivar lived for the celebrations. He loved nothing more than flashing his smile at foolish noble girls who would throw themselves at his feet, offering up their family lineages, unbeknownst to them that it almost meant giving part of their powers for him to drain at his leisure.

For Ivar to skip the opening procession meant whatever had happened at the Sunken Arch hadn’t just rattled him. It had shattered his composure entirely.

And then, the doors swung open, and the markless girl walked into the hall.

For a moment there, I didn’t recognize her.

My eyes swept over her, taking in the cut of the blood-red gown, the way the silk hugged her frame, and the stark, breathtaking contrast against her pale skin.

She was stunning. So stunning, in fact, that I had to silently recite an old mantra in my head just to stop myself from openly ogling her from the dais.

Focus, Zev. She’s a trench rat.

When her head turned and her eyes briefly brushed past the thrones, catching mine, I saw the familiar awe in her expression. It was the same look every girl gave us when they realized they were breathing the same air as the royal heirs.

I allowed a smile to spread across my lips.

Right, I thought, relaxing into my throne. Ivar was right about one thing.

This girl was out of her depth. Getting close to her was going to be absurdly easy. I would make her acquaintance before the night ended, play the charming tiger, and lead her straight into our trap.

It was step two of a very simple plan.

Then, she did something that shattered the entire reality of the room.

Instead of shrinking back into the shadows like any sane commoner, she stepped out from behind the fountain and walked directly into the center carpet—halting Prince Remus’s procession mid-stride.

Even my lips parted loudly.

Daughters of Dukes, Earls, and high warlords wouldn’t dare interrupt a Dragon Prince on his march. Yet here was a dragonless nobody, standing in front of the golden heir as if she owned the ground beneath his boots.

A second later, something—a silly trick by one of Remus’s admirers or perhaps, some Dragon boy thinking he was doing his Prince a favor—slammed her to the floor.

I leaned forward, my fingers gripping the armrests of my throne so hard the carved wood groaned. I expected Remus to step over her. I expected him to burn her to ash for daring to block his path.

Instead, Remus froze. And then, to the absolute horror of the entire room, the golden heir extended his hand to pull a trench rat off the floor.

My pulse spiked. What in the Gods’ names–

Before Remus’s fingers could graze hers, Vaela bolted forward from the procession and shoved herself between them, taking the markless girl’s hand.

I sat back while my mind raced at a terrifying speed, connecting dots that shouldn’t have existed.

Remus... the stoic, untouchable dragon had actually tried to help her.

Vaela, the most arrogant, bloodthirsty royal lady had personally intervened to stop him.

And now when I turned my head, even Ajax was almost out of his seat watching the spectacle with so much vested interest.

What was it about this girl?

Why was a markless, dragonless nobody pulling the most powerful, dangerous people in the realm completely out of their orbits?

Ivar was acting like a terrified ghost because of her. Remus was breaking centuries of royal protocol for her. Even Ajax who acted the most composed was pooling sweat on his forehead watching the scene.

My intrigue, which had started as a mere strategy flared into a roaring flame.

We had initially planned to use her as a simple piece of bait to drag Raice down. But staring at her now, bruised, messy, and standing at the center of the world’s attention, a far more magnificent realization struck me.

She wasn’t just a weapon to use against the Fae lunatic.

If she could make Remus hesitate in front of the entire high nobility, then she was the key to something much bigger.

She wasn’t just a bird. She was the stone that could shatter both the Dragon and the Fae at the exact same time.