[Evelyn’s POV]
Days blur together in Draven's territory like rain on glass.
My room is barely larger than a closet—stone walls, a thin mattress on a wooden frame, a single window too narrow to climb through. The servants' quarters press in from all sides, filled with strangers who want nothing to do with me.
I learn quickly what's expected. Scrubbing floors until my knees ache. Hauling water from the well until my shoulders burn. Whatever menial task proves I'm willing to work without complaint.
The egg stays hidden beneath loose floorboards near my bed. I discovered the gap my second night here, prying up boards until I found a hollow space just large enough to conceal my precious secret.
Only at night do I dare retrieve it.
When the compound falls silent and shadows swallow my tiny room, I pull the egg from its hiding place and cradle it against my chest. Its warmth pulses against my skin like a second heartbeat.
"Soon," the dragon whispers through our bond. "Soon we'll be truly together, and nothing will separate us again."
"I hope you're right," I breathe into the darkness. "I don't know how much longer I can keep hiding you."
"Trust in what we share. They cannot take what they don't know exists."
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Then I realized something. “Hey. I never asked but… What’s your name?”
There’s a brief pause, but when the dragon replies, I hear a smile in her voice.
“Aspis. My name is Aspis.”
“Nice to meet you, Aspis.” I smile back.
We lapse into silence.
The words and the presence comfort me, but fear never fully fades. If anyone discovers what I carry—if Draven learns I smuggled a dragon egg across his borders—death will come swiftly.
I must survive long enough for the hatching.
That's all that matters now.
Each morning I emerge from my room and feel eyes following my every movement. Servants fall silent when I approach their conversations. Guards track my path through corridors with suspicious gazes.
And Commander Sera appears everywhere I turn.
The sharp-eyed woman watches from doorways, from shadows, from convenient corners. She never speaks to me directly, but I feel her attention like a blade pressed against my spine.
She reports to Draven. I'm certain of it.
I try to be friendly despite the coldness surrounding me. I offer help to other servants whenever possible. I smile at guards who pass. I make myself as invisible and useful as possible.
None of it works. The other house members treat me with suspicion at best, open hostility at worst.
I'm a houseless stranger who appeared from somewhere beyond their borders. A rogue with no family, no connections, no reason to trust.
Why would anyone welcome that?
One afternoon, while carrying fresh linens through the main courtyard, I cross paths with trouble wearing a charming smile. He shares Draven's dark features—the strong jaw, the midnight hair, the sharp intelligence in his eyes.
But where Draven moves like a predator stalking prey, this man carries himself with easier grace. Less wolf. More prowling cat.
He stops directly in my path, forcing me to halt or collide with him. The linens nearly tumble from my arms as I stumble backward.
"So you're the rogue my brother dragged in from the cliffs." His voice holds amusement rather than threat. "Evelyn, isn't it? The mysterious wanderer with nowhere else to go?"
"That's right." I adjust my grip on the linens carefully. "And you must be..."
"Riven." He begins circling me slowly, studying my face from different angles. "Draven's younger brother. The less intimidating one, if you believe the rumors."
"I haven't heard any rumors about you."
"Then you haven't been listening carefully enough." He completes his circle and stops before me again. "You don't look like much, I'll admit. Thin. Tired. A bit ragged around the edges."
"Travel does that to a person."
"So does running from something." His eyes sharpen despite his casual tone. "But then, the dangerous ones rarely look dangerous. That's what makes them so effective."
My pulse quickens, but I keep my expression neutral.
"I'm not dangerous. I'm just trying to survive, same as anyone."
"Everyone says that. Even the assassins. Even the spies." He tilts his head. "Where exactly did you come from, little rogue? Before the cliffs, I mean. Before you stumbled so conveniently into our territory?"
"A small settlement in the neutral lands. Nothing worth mentioning."
"Settlements have names."
"Mine didn't. It was barely a village—just a handful of families trying to scratch out a living." The lie comes smoothly now, practiced through repetition. "Raiders destroyed it. I've been wandering ever since."
"How tragic." His voice holds no sympathy. "And you were traveling alone? No companions? No friends who might vouch for your story?"
"Friends are luxuries I can't afford."
"On that, we agree." He steps closer, invading my space deliberately. "What are you running from, Evelyn? And don't insult me with another vague answer about raiders and destroyed villages."
"I'm running from people who wanted me dead." Truth wrapped in deflection. "Isn't that reason enough to flee?"
"It's reason enough to wonder who those people were. And whether they might follow you here."
"No one is following me. I made absolutely sure of that."
"Did you?" He studies my face like he's memorizing every single detail. "You seem very confident for someone who arrived so desperate."
"Confidence is all I have left."
Something flickers in his expression—respect, perhaps, or deeper suspicion.
I can't tell which.
"My brother may have let you stay," Riven says finally, leaning close enough that I smell pine and leather. "But that doesn't mean you're welcome here. This isn't a sanctuary. It's a test."
"A test?"
"To see what you really are. Draven collects information like other men collect weapons. Every word you speak, every move you make—it's all being recorded and analyzed, be sure of that."
"I know I'm being watched."
"Good. Then you won't be surprised when I tell you that I'll be watching too." His smile turns sharp. "One wrong step, little rogue. One whisper of deception. And I'll be the first to know."
He straightens and walks away without another word, leaving me standing in the courtyard with my heart pounding and my arms full of linens I've nearly crushed. The encounter rattles me more than I want to admit.
That night, alone in my cramped room with the egg cradled against my chest, I stare at the ceiling and wonder if I've traded one prison for another.
In Mintia, my family wanted me dead.
Here, strangers watch my every breath and wait for me to prove I'm exactly as dangerous as they suspect.
"You are not trapped," Aspis whispers gently. "You are surviving. There is a difference."
"Is there? Because right now it feels exactly the same."
"In Mintia, you had no hope. Here, you have me. You have our bond growing stronger each night. You have a future they cannot take from you."
I press my cheek against the warm shell and let Aspis' presence wash over me.
Enemies surround me on all sides. Draven's suspicion. Sera's surveillance. Riven's sharp questions. The hostile stares of everyone else in this place.
But Aspis is right about one thing.
In Mintia, I had nothing to fight for. Here, I have everything—if I can just survive long enough to claim it.