I decide it is best not to wait for the creature to get closer to the palace and the precious lives therein. I lunge off the spindle of the tower and fly at the thing, my jaws open, displaying my vicious pointed teeth.

This dragon—for I'm sure that's what it is—had better turn on its tail. I'm indestructible and know how to make short work of it. My father taught me well how to take down a dragon.

Go for the wings first, Kyla.

I give one more warning roar, hoping it will see common sense, but the feral dragon answers me aggressively.

So strange for a feral dragon to attack the palace like this. Mountain goats, boar, gazelles are their main diet, not humans.

Heat builds in my throat. The wings of a dragon are thin and burn easily. Unlike Cursed and my mother, a Fireblood (a human infused with Cursed blood before birth), they are not fireproof.

Flames spew from my jaws, hot speckles resembling lava hit the creature's wings burning holes into the thin membranes.

It's an outrageously unfair fight. I feel sorry for the beast as it hisses and screeches in pain, its wings disintegrating.

As it falls, I follow it to the ground. My jaws grip its throat, and I'm surprised when my teeth click against the harshness of metal.

Huh?

We hit the jungle floor with an ugly thud. I know its back most likely has broken on impact.

I put the beast out of its misery swiftly on the ground before studying the curious metal band around its neck. Strange, domesticated dragons are not a thing; however, this dragon is wearing a collar studded with red gems.

I've seen drawings of such a collar. It's a magical device, created to control the will of another.

This dragon is under the control of someone else.

As soon as the creature draws its last breath, the collar melts into a blood-like ooze.

An uneasy feeling shivers through my body.

Why had someone sent a Fe collar-wearing dragon to the palace in the first place?

I scan the jungle around me. All nature is silent, scattered from the body of the fallen dragon and my monstrous beast.

My nostrils flare as I try to detect any uncommon scent, but the smell of trees, earth, and freshly killed dragon is all I pick up. Unfortunately for me, in my beast form, a dead dragon smells delicious.

My eyes close.

Get it together, Kyla.

My wings spread, and I make a running start to fly back to the palace and report my alarming findings.

*

After the guests are notified the threat is over, Fletch, Sola, Lord Calbir, my mother, and Kalvar all meet with me in the private gathering room to discuss the Fe collar.

"Are you sure it was a Fe collar?" Kalvar asks after my tale of the doomed dragon is finished.

"Seriously, Kal?" I cross my arms over my chest. "A dragon in its right mind would have shirked upon hearing me. This one flew headlong in my direction! Besides, I know of no other magical or mundane devices that dissolve like that upon a being's death."

"I feared this day would come," Mother murmurs, and all eyes fall on her. Her expression is far away, as if she recalls years past. "But why would it happen now?"

"What do you mean, Mother?" Kalvar asks. "Are you talking of the Sorceress?"

"What person could create a Fe collar, let alone get close enough to place it on a wild dragon?" Mother murmurs, standing from her seat.

"There must be another explanation," Kalvar says, shaking his head, but I can sense fear stirring inside him by the sound of his racing heart. He's afraid. My brother, the future king of Underland, is afraid of what this will mean for his care-free royal lifestyle. No arranged marriage or charismatic personality can prove of use where dark magic abides. And with a baby on the way, I'm sure he thinks the bright future his offspring will have is possibly in question.

"My son," Mother says, walking over to him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "There is no need to fear. There is peace in this land. If it was the Sorceress, her feeble attempt at causing chaos by this attack is laughable at best. Kyla made short work of her minion just as her father showed her. I believe she thinks us weak because your father is no longer with us. This was a test. But we've shown her we are not weak. Light and peace have filled our kingdom for years. She will not gain power through this. Be not dismayed."

"Queen Lucy is right," Sola speaks, and because we all know Sola has the unique talent of prophecy, we all await hearing what she has to say. "I do not believe we have reason to worry, yet," Sola continues, looking at me and narrowing her eyes. "Kyla, you feel very alone. Don't you?"

I thought we were talking about Fe collars and the Sorceress, not my popularity.

"Why do you say that, Sola?" Mother asks. "Kyla has Kalvar and me. She's not alone." Mother walks over to me and takes my hand. "Kyla, you're not alone."

The turn in conversation onto me makes me uncomfortable as I'm not too fond of scrutiny of any kind.

Talk about anyone else but me, please.

"Mother, Sola, please, I'm not what is important right now," I say.

"But you are important, Kyla," Mother says, "Without you, that dragon would have attacked the palace. Yes, the guards would have taken the beast down, but who knows if there would have been injury or damage done before they'd done so?"

"I only did what father would have done if he were here," I say quickly, trying again to get the discussion off of me.

"Should I tell Sylvia to postpone her arrival?" Kalvar asks, he's noticed how uncomfortable I am, and I can tell he's trying to change the subject for me.

"No," Fletch says, adding to the conversation finally. "Another alliance might seal out chaos for good. Your marriage to Princess Sylvia will create unity among the three human kingdoms, which has never been achieved before in Axus. If we're looking to keep that sorceress' fate in irons, this marriage is important."

"I still don't see why marriage is the only way to create an alliance," Mother huffs, still holding my hand.

A yawn falls out of me unexpectedly, and I realize I am exhausted. My mind is tired of processing all this excitement.

It's been a long day. The dressing up, getting caught in the courtyard half-dressed, dancing and flirting for the first time, killing a dragon, finding the Fe collar... I need some sleep.

"I'm going to bed," I announce. "You'll have to inform me of anything relevant that you discussed here in the morning."

"Sleep well," Mother says, patting my hand.

"I will," I say and kiss her on the cheek before I leave. "Goodnight, Mother."

On my way up the stairs to my chambers, I'm finding it hard to breathe. My throat is tight, and my hands are sweaty. The stairs sway beneath my feet, and I grip the railing.

This isn't the first time I've felt like this since Father disappeared.

All the anxiety inside me is bubbling up. I stand on the stairs until the world stops spinning.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale... Exhale...

Finally, the anxiety attack diminishes, and I continue up the stairs and enter my quarters.

Once in my bedroom, I close the door and unwrap myself from my dress, slip into a comfortable nightgown that doesn't cover my wings, and plop down on my four-poster bed face first.

A harsh knock on my bedroom door jolts me awake just as I begin to doze off.

Groggily, I get up from my soft, warm bed and lean against the door. It has to be my personal servant, Maybelle, or my Mother since the hour is so late, and no one else has access to my chambers.

"Maybelle?" I ask, my voice comes out cracked, "this better be an emergency because I will take my more beautiful form and roar in your face if it isn't."

"I'd love to see you do that," a male voice answers back, "but unfortunately, I do believe this is an emergency."

"Rift?" I'm suddenly quite awake.