The chamber was so still you could hear the shift of silk, the faint clink of goblets as nobles adjusted in their seats. All eyes were on Theron, his hands braced against the polished obsidian surface, gaze sweeping the room as if he already owned every life within it.
“War is coming,” he said, voice calm and confident, like he was announcing the weather.
No dramatics, no hesitation.
Just certainty.
“And unlike my predecessors, I have no intention of waiting for it to reach our gates.”
A few nobles leaned forward, curiosity stirring. One, older and stiff-backed in his seat, lifted a brow. “You speak of strategy, Your Highness. But how do you intend to fight when the Fourth Guild—the Riders—remain fractured?”
There was a murmur of agreement, the tension in the air sharpening. Even the guards around us shifted subtly.
Zander and I didn’t move.
We couldn’t.
Inderia leaned in beside Theron, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, her hand ghosting along his sleeve like a lover offering comfort. Or a queen offering command.
Theron’s eyes flicked toward her, then to the nobles.
He nodded once and straightened.
“The royal houses,” he said clearly, “have relied on dragons for far too long. They are powerful, yes, but they are also unpredictable. Dangerous. And the wards protecting this kingdom? They will not last forever.”
My heart stuttered. He knew. He knew the wards were failing.
And he was already preparing for what came after.
“I have access,” Theron continued, “to a weapon that will win this war, with or without the dragons’ allegiance.”
A murmur rippled through the chamber—uneasy, questioning.
“What kind of weapon?” a noble asked, suspicion coloring every word.
Theron smiled.
It was small. Cold.
“Fae Fire.”
The words dropped like a stone in water.
A noblewoman near the end of the table inhaled sharply. “Fae Fire was banned under the Dragon Accord?—”
“Yes,” Theron interrupted smoothly, “because it kills dragons. Which makes it… uniquely suited for the times to come.”
My stomach turned. The sorrow of the truth settled hard in my chest.
This wasn’t a war council.
It was a declaration.
Theron wasn’t just preparing for war.
He was preparing to burn the dragons out of it.
The council continued, but the air had shifted.
