POV: Ravenna
The summons came early the next morning.
Too early. Before breakfast. Before I'd even finished getting dressed.
A servant appeared at my door looking nervous. "Princess Ravenna. His Majesty requests your presence in his study immediately."
Immediately. Never a good sign.
"Did he say why?" I asked, already knowing the answer would be no.
"No, Princess. But—" The servant hesitated. "There are visitors. Important ones."
Wonderful.
I finished dressing quickly—something formal, something that said I was a princess and not to be trifled with—and headed to Father's study.
The door was already open. I could hear voices inside. Father's deep tone. Master Veyron's gruff voice. And another voice I didn't recognize—smooth, cultured, cold.
I stepped inside.
Father sat behind his desk looking grim. Master Veyron stood near the window, arms crossed. And in front of the desk stood a man I'd never seen before.
Tall. Golden-haired like Lucien. Same aristocratic features. But where Lucien had learned to mask his coldness with charm, this man didn't bother. He looked at me with eyes like ice and calculation.
"Ah," he said. "The princess. How convenient."
"Ravenna." Father's voice was tight. "This is Lord Cassian of House Ashford. Lucien's older brother."
Oh. OH. This was bad.
I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. "Lord Cassian. I wasn't aware House Ashford had business in Cindravale."
"We didn't." Cassian's voice was smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. "Until the Dragon's Choosing results necessitated our involvement."
"The results were clear," I said coldly. "Solace rejected your brother. That's hardly grounds for—"
"For what, Princess?" Cassian's smile didn't reach his eyes. "For questioning whether the rejection was natural? Whether your dragon was compromised? Coerced?"
The room went very quiet.
"Excuse me?" My voice came out deadly calm. "Are you accusing me of manipulating my own dragon?"
"I'm not accusing anyone of anything." Cassian's tone was reasonable. Diplomatic. Which made it worse. "I'm simply stating facts. Solace's rejection of my brother was unprecedented in its violence. Dragons typically show indifference or mild aversion when they don't recognize a bond. They don't SNARL. They don't threaten with flames."
"Maybe your brother is just that repulsive," I said sweetly.
Father's hand twitched like he wanted to cover his face.
Cassian's expression didn't change. "Or perhaps Solace was influenced. Magically interfered with. Coerced into a reaction that would eliminate my brother from consideration."
"That's ridiculous." I looked at Father. "This is ridiculous, right? He can't seriously be suggesting—"
"Lord Cassian has formally protested the Dragon's Choosing results," Father said heavily. "He's demanding an investigation into potential magical interference."
My stomach dropped. "You're not seriously considering this."
"I have to." Father's voice was resigned. "House Ashford is powerful. They have political connections across multiple kingdoms. If we dismiss their concerns without investigation, it could be seen as—"
"As what? Favoritism?" I laughed harshly. "Father, Solace rejected Lucien because he's hollow inside. Because she saw past his charm to the cold emptiness beneath. That's not magical interference. That's dragon judgment."
"Perhaps." Cassian's voice was still smooth. "But you'll understand that my family's honor has been insulted. Our name dragged through court gossip. My brother publicly humiliated." He paused. "We require satisfaction. Either an investigation proves Solace's rejection was natural and we accept the results—or it proves interference and the Dragon's Choosing is declared invalid."
"Invalid?" My voice rose. "You can't—that's not—"
"Master Veyron." Father's voice cut through my protest. "Is magical interference in dragon bonding possible?"
The old trainer was quiet for a long moment. Then: "No."
"No?" Cassian's eyebrows rose.
"Dragon choices cannot be magically influenced," Veyron said firmly. "The bond is too primal. Too instinctual. It comes from a place deeper than magic can touch." He looked at Cassian directly. "Your brother was rejected because Solace found him unsuitable. Simple as that."
"Then an investigation should prove exactly that," Cassian said smoothly. "And clear any doubts about the legitimacy of the results."
"There are no doubts," I said through gritted teeth.
"Aren't there?" Cassian's smile was cold. "I've heard whispers, Princess. Nobles questioning why Solace would choose a common-born warrior over my brother. Guards wondering if perhaps you influenced your dragon's decision. Servants gossiping about how convenient it was that the only candidate you seemed to favor won." He paused. "An investigation would silence those whispers. Prove beyond doubt that Solace's choice was genuine."
I wanted to scream. To shift and let Solace burn this arrogant bastard to ash. To tell him exactly where he and his family could shove their protests.
But I was a princess. And this was politics.
"Fine." The word came out sharp. "Investigate. Examine Solace. Question me. Do whatever you need to do." I looked at Cassian directly. "And when you find nothing—when it's proven beyond any doubt that Solace's rejection was genuine and her choice of Theron was uncoerced—your family will accept the results and drop all protests. Publicly."
"Agreed," Cassian said immediately. Too immediately.
Like he'd expected exactly this.
Dread settled in my stomach.
Father leaned forward. "One week. We'll convene a panel of dragon experts. They'll examine Solace, review the Dragon's Choosing ceremony, interview all parties involved." He looked at Cassian. "If nothing is found, House Ashford must accept the results and drop all protests. Is that acceptable?"
"More than acceptable." Cassian bowed slightly. "I appreciate your fairness in this matter, Your Majesty."
"Don't thank me yet." Father's voice was cold. "If this investigation proves to be a waste of time—if you're using it to harass my daughter or undermine her bonded—there will be consequences."
"I would expect nothing less." Cassian smiled. "I'll await the panel's findings."
He bowed again and left.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Silence filled the study.
"Tell me you're not actually doing this," I said finally.
"I have no choice." Father rubbed his face. "House Ashford has enough political power to cause real problems if we dismiss this out of hand. Other kingdoms watch how we handle noble grievances. If we appear to be playing favorites—"
"We're not playing favorites! Solace chose Theron. That's how dragon bonds WORK."
"I know that." Father's voice was tired. "You know that. Master Veyron knows that. But Cassian is betting on creating enough doubt that the choice seems questionable." He looked at me. "One week, Ravenna. Let the experts examine Solace, let them find nothing wrong, and this ends."
"And if Cassian tries to manipulate the results?"
"Then I'll deal with House Ashford personally." Father's expression went hard. "But until then, we play by the rules. We let the investigation proceed. We prove Solace's choice was genuine."
"This is bullshit," I muttered.
"Yes," Veyron agreed. "But it's political bullshit. Which means we have to navigate it carefully."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to rage and fight and refuse to subject Solace to this humiliation.
But Father was right. Politics required playing games I hated.
"Fine," I said finally. "One week. But if Cassian tries anything—if he so much as implies Solace was compromised—I'm done being diplomatic."
"Fair enough." Father's lips twitched. Almost a smile. "Dismissed. I'll send word when the panel is assembled."
I left the study feeling like I'd just swallowed poison.
An investigation. A formal questioning of Solace's judgment. As if my dragon was property to be evaluated. As if her choices needed validation from strangers.
I found myself walking toward the training yards without conscious decision. Needing to move. Needing to DO something with the rage building in my chest.
Theron was there, sparring with Hadrian. He saw me approaching and immediately called a halt.
"Ravenna." He walked over, concerned. "What's wrong?"
"House Ashford is protesting the Dragon's Choosing," I said flatly. "Cassian—Lucien's older brother—is demanding an investigation into magical interference."
Theron went very still. "What?"
"He claims Solace's rejection was too violent to be natural. That maybe she was influenced or coerced." I laughed bitterly. "Father agreed to a one-week investigation to examine all evidence."
"I see." Theron's voice was carefully neutral.
"They're going to scrutinize Solace. Question me. Try to find anything that suggests the Dragon's Choosing was invalid." I looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to go through this."
"You're apologizing?" His eyebrows rose. "Ravenna, this isn't your fault."
"Isn't it?" My voice cracked. "If I'd just accepted Lucien—if I'd forced Solace to choose someone more politically convenient—"
"Then you'd be bonded to a hollow man who sees you as property." Theron's voice was firm. "Don't apologize for Solace choosing honestly."
"Cassian said—" I stopped. Swallowed. "He said there are whispers. Nobles questioning why Solace would choose you over Lucien. Guards wondering if I influenced her decision."
"Let them wonder." Theron's amber eyes were steady. "We know the truth. Solace chose me because we're compatible. Because Havoc and Solace recognized each other. That's all that matters."
"But the investigation—"
"Will find nothing." His voice was absolute. "Because there's nothing to find. Solace's choice was genuine. The experts will confirm that and this ends."
"You sound very sure."
"I am." He reached out and took my hand. "I've been through enough rejections to know what genuine dragon response looks like. What Solace felt for Lucien—that violent rejection—that was real. There's no question."
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that this would be simple.
But the dread in my stomach said otherwise.
"One week," I said quietly. "We have one week to prove Solace's choice was genuine and unforced."
"Then we'll prove it." Theron squeezed my hand gently. "Together."
"Together," I echoed.
But as I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that Cassian had planned for this. That he'd walked into that study expecting Father to agree to an investigation.
That he had something else up his sleeve.
And we were about to find out what.