The sun spilled molten light across the Dragon Palace, its crimson glow clinging to the obsidian walls like fire etched in stone. From the outside, the palace looked unshakable—fortified, eternal. But within its walls, unease prowled like a beast waiting for its moment to strike.
Prince Vanda Sanchez walked through the grand corridor, his steps firm, his golden eyes hard. Behind him trailed two generals and a line of guards in dragon-scale armor, each bearing the sigil of the royal house. His presence was fire contained in human form, and every servant he passed lowered their gaze instantly.
When they reached the eastern wing, the guards took position. Vanda gestured sharply. The heavy doors creaked open to reveal Daya's chamber.
The maid stood inside, startled by the sudden intrusion. She had been folding linens by the window, her simple gown catching the sunlight, making her look softer than she realized. But the softness evaporated when her gaze rose and found Vanda entering.
"My lord?" she asked carefully, bowing slightly.
"You will no longer walk unguarded," Vanda said without preamble. His voice rang like a command carved into stone. "From this moment, two guards will be stationed outside your chamber, day and night. You will not leave the palace without my permission, and you will not be left alone."
Her hands stilled on the fabric. For a moment, she could not breathe. The words sank like iron into her chest.
"My prince…" Her voice faltered. "Am I—am I a prisoner, then?"
The room chilled despite the warm sunlight.
Vanda's jaw tightened. "You are under my protection."
"But—" She forced the courage to meet his gaze. His eyes burned like molten gold, unreadable and unyielding. "Protection or cage, what difference does it make if I cannot move freely? If I cannot even breathe without guards watching me?"
A flicker of something—anger? Guilt?—passed through his eyes. But his voice remained sharp. "Do you have any idea what Rosa will do if she lays hands on you?"
Her lips parted, but no answer came.
"She would not just slap you before a crowd, Daya," he continued, his tone low, dangerous. "She would break you. Piece by piece. Not because of who you are, but because of what you mean to me."
The admission struck her harder than his anger. Her? Meaning something to him? The thought was as impossible as it was terrifying.
Silence pressed thickly between them.
Finally, Vanda turned to the generals. "Double the guard in the east wing. None enter without my seal. If anyone so much as whispers to the maid without permission, they will answer to me directly."
The generals bowed and departed, their armor clattering faintly as they went. Soon, only Daya and the prince remained in the room.
Her voice trembled when she spoke again. "Why do you do this for me, my lord? I am only—"
"Enough." The word cracked like a whip. He stepped closer, the air between them thick with his presence. "You are no longer only anything. Not while you stand beneath my fire."
Her heart pounded wildly, both at the weight of his words and the intensity in his gaze. She dropped her eyes, clutching the fabric still in her hands like a shield.
But she could not shake the feeling that the walls were closing in.
---
That evening, whispers spread through the palace like smoke. Servants muttered that the dragon prince had locked a maid in his wing, guarded like a jewel. Nobles scoffed that their prince was letting a woman distract him from greater matters of the realm.
At the high council table, Vanda listened to their barbed words in silence.
"She is a liability," one lord said bluntly, his jeweled fingers drumming against the polished wood. "The longer she remains, the more Rosa will use her as leverage."
"Then perhaps," another murmured, "it is wiser to hand her over. If she truly means nothing, why risk the kingdom?"
The hall grew tense. Every eye turned toward Vanda.
The prince rose slowly, his shadow stretching long against the stone walls. His voice rolled like thunder.
"If any of you dares suggest again that I hand over what is mine to protect, you will leave this hall without your tongue."
Silence. Not even a breath stirred.
The council bowed, some in obedience, others in fear. The matter was settled, though unease lingered like ash after a fire.
---
Night fell. The palace slept restlessly.
Daya sat by the window of her chamber, the stars glittering above like cold diamonds. Two guards stood firm outside her door. Though safe, she felt no freedom—only the weight of invisible chains.
Her mother's frail voice echoed in her memory. "Freedom is worth more than safety, my child. Safety can be stolen. But freedom, once claimed, is yours."
Her chest tightened. She wondered what her mother would say if she knew her daughter now lived under the dragon prince's shadow.
A faint sound stirred her from thought. A whisper of cloth against stone. A shadow shifting outside her window.
She froze.
Slowly, she rose and approached. Her hand trembled as she reached for the shutters. Before she could touch them, a low voice hissed from the darkness.
"Daya."
Her blood turned to ice.
"Don't scream," the voice continued, urgent, almost desperate. "I've come to help you escape."
Her eyes widened in horror. For the first time, she realized—the danger was not only outside the palace. It had already seeped within.
r: A figure emerged from the shadows beneath her window, and to her shock—it was not a stranger. It was someone she knew.