That night I slept fairly... well. The bed would wiggle a bit when you hopped on, adapting to your body's form after lying in it for some time. Like one of those waterbeds. Rather comfortable if I may say so myself. I knew it was rich to complain for someone in my position, but even then, our room's magnificent decor was still a slight turnoff.

I guess I didn't have to look at it with the lights turned off.

Get it? Okay, moving on.

I was refering to the crystal lights. It was rather funny. How the arcane simply replaced stuff we would do with electricity in my old world. Perhaps that could be the explanation for the still backwards medieval technology. Hmm. I realized that despite living in this world for about 8 years, I didn't even know what year we even had. I'd seen dates being thrown around in Vrintas' books but I had no clue nonetheless. Maybe I should've looked at the more recent dates in my Chronika Solida. Haaaah. How I miss that book.

Electricity was really its own kind of magic, if you thought about it. Sometimes I wondered if there actually was a thing such as electric magic. As in lightning spells, perhaps. I knew Manatrite, that weird mineral Vrintas mentioned during our catalyst introduction, could pop a spark or two. At least that's what he said. Anyways. Today I didn't see anything of the sort. I'd gotten overly excited seeing spellcasters take on other spellcasters in the arena. In the end they all just used simple barriers to block each others bolt-type spells. Well, until Skalduz beat the living crap out of them with his shield. Firebolts and waterbolts. Nothing actually interesting. Again, I was one to complain. I couldn't cast anything but smoke. And that wasn't even remotely useful.

Where was that supposed tutor Vrintas promised us? Well, I suppose it isn't time to get impatient yet. It's been one day.

And what a day it had been. Thinking about Hern's offer made me shuffle around in bed for hours. That with Rheka's and Tavrin's combined snoring. One I could handle, but two? Enkefalos damn these children. Another amusing thought hit my trail of thinking. Now that a dragon had officially returned to the public, I wondered if a reformation of the supposed dragon religion was in order. The king would certainly be pleased. With me as the head of faith, of course. I was the last dragon.

Allegedly.

Though thanks to my stature I don't believe anyone actually saw me as such. Zilra's sisters certainly didn't. I had seen them on the way to our chambers. They watched me with devious smiles. Smiles I couldn't really assign. I had no idea what they really thought of me. Although from the short encounter we had I couldn't see why Zilra hated them as much as she did. Yes they made fun of me. But that was children's crap. I'd gone through way worse things in prison. All you need to do is make fun of them back. If they get physical you run away. And then you make of them from a safe distance. Easy, done.

"Argi." I heard someone whisper, breaking me out of thought. I lifted and turned my head. It was Rheka.

"Can't sleep?" I asked, genuinely curious. That girl usually slept like a rock. No wonder, with all that energy-use.

"No. Can you?" She whispered, much louder than before.

"I'm trying but there's-"

"So much to think about, right? It's fun here." She hid her face slightly under her blanket.

"Yes. Fun. Exactly. Let's make sure it stays that way."

"Argi?" She asked again, quieter this time.

"Still here."

"Thank you... for being here."

Thank you. Rheka’s quiet words caught me off guard, somehow. It honestly wasn’t something I was used to hearing. I’d spent most of my life in my old world watching my own back, just getting by through deception and lies. Sentiment and gratitude were luxuries I couldn’t really afford. But here, in this strange new life, surrounded by people like Rheka who looked up to me for some reason I still didn’t fully understand… I felt something.

A small, warm feeling that I wasn’t sure I liked.

I turned my head slightly, watching her curl up under her blanket. Her breathing slowly evened out as she drifted back toward sleep. She wasn’t the type to get scared, yet she was still thankful for having me around. Maybe… maybe I'm not doing so bad after all.

I wasn't sure if I'd been smiling. If I even could in the first place. But it felt like it. If only for a brief moment, I let myself enjoy it - the feeling of being… appreciated. Needed. Maybe even… liked.

"No problem." I whispered, though she was already asleep.

The room was quiet again, except for the faint, distant hum of the palace at night. I stared up at the ornate draconically-themed ceiling. My mind was racing yet my heart remained calm. I wasn’t used to this. I'd felt it once before, watching Rheka's family have a good time. Maybe even when they checked in on us earlier, saying their goodnights to her.

This peace. This… warmth. It sure was a strange feeling.

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

***

The next day started with Zilra shouting us out of bed. She'd been going at it with Urs for hours before that. Apparently the King wasn't against her getting taught in the ways of the spear. Speaking of which. From what I'd seen so far, there was an abundance of those. Swords were a rarity even in the places we'd gone through on our journey here. I think the most swords I'd seen in one place was yesterday in the arena. A whole total of three. The spear was obviously the superior weapon.

“Get up! We’re late for breakfast!” Zilra barked from the doorway. Isn't that your fault? Wake us earlier then. Her usual behavior was still annoying. I much preferred her mood yesterday.

I looked over at Rheka and Tavrin. Rheka stretched and yawned, while Tavrin was still half-asleep, sitting up with his blonde hair a complete mess. They hurried to dress before we followed Zilra through the palace corridors. There were more draconic motifs than I could care to count at that point.

By the time we reached the dining hall, I was half-expecting the table to be shaped like a dragon too. It wasn’t. But it was still massive. Big enough to seat thirty people comfortably. The dark wood was polished to a shine, and the chairs had high backs that ended in wings - dragon wings, naturally. There we go!

The servants, quietly moving around the room, wore crimson and gold robes embroidered with, you guessed it, more dragons. Even their hoods had subtle horn-like shapes sewn into them. The commitment and attention to detail here was honestly impressive. Obsessive, but impressive.

Zilra led us to our seats at the far end of the table, away from the I assumed more important figures who were already deep in conversation. I was allowed to sit at the table, but it was a bit... tricky. They basically brought me a chair for my chair's chair to sit on. I ended up sitting higher than anyone else, which was... not great.

Urs and Visla, were talking quietly with Vrintas, who looked as absent-minded as ever. I say they both talked to him, but it was really only Visla doing all the conversing. Urs didn't even waste a single glance on his father. The old man gave me a nod as I walked past. He didn’t say anything though, his focus shifting back to whatever "discussion" he was having with Visla.

At the head of the table sat - who could have guessed it - the King. He looked nothing like the part. His hair wasn't neatly combed as you would expect it, but instead fell around his tired face in a huge mess. Heavy bags still hung under his eyes, and his shoulders slumped as if he was carrying the weight of the entire kingdom. Well. I guess he was. He looked more like a man who hadn’t slept in days than the ruler of this country. His clothes, while finely made, seemed almost like an afterthought. Wrinkled and slightly crooked, as if he'd barely bothered to dress himself this morning. This man was more relatable than anyone I'd ever seen in either of my lives.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it - the exhaustion, the weariness clinging to him like a second skin. His expression was distant, eyes a little glazed, like he wasn’t really present, just physically sitting there out of duty or something. It was like he was going through the motions because he had to, not because he wanted to. Honestly, he looked even worse than yesterday. Way worse.

Even so, he gave his kids a half-hearted greeting, like he was trying to muster up warmth from an empty well. But when he looked at Zilra, it wasn’t the usual mix of pride or irritation you would expect from a parent. It felt more like he was just tired, wanting to reach out but not really knowing how. Zilra just seemed to avoid him. It was a familiar sight, actually. I only had to look to the other side of the table to see a similar story unfold. Hating your father seems to be popular this time of the year.

Beside the King sat Valira. She was all confidence and grace just like yesterday, when we'd met her for the first time. Her silver hair caught the light as she leaned back in her chair, looking completely at ease. When she noticed me, she gave me another smirk that I couldn’t quite decipher. Playful this time, maybe? Or was she just trying to figure me out? Either way, I still did not trust that smile.

Orindra, the middle sister, sat beside her, her nose buried in a book. Which one I couldn't tell. She had her hair pulled back in a neat braid and a quieter, more reserved demeanor. Unlike Valira, she didn’t seem interested in talking to anyone. She glanced up briefly when we sat down before returning to her reading immediatly after.

And then there was the Queen. Or rather that was what I assumed her to be.

She was hard to miss. Sat beside the King with an awkward distance between them. Her golden hair was perfectly styled, and her silver eyes gleamed like the moon itself. She looked like she belonged on a throne more than the King did. Every inch of her projected authority. But there was a coldness to her, something that made the room feel just a little frozen. When her gaze swept over me, I felt it - sharp, calculating, like she was sizing me up. I quickly looked away, focusing on my bowl instead. The last thing I needed was to catch her attention too soon.

The food was already laid out: platters of meats, fruits, and bread, all arranged with the same "care" that went into decorating this place. Though none of the foods resembled anything dragon-related. For some reason I felt disappointed about that.

My elevated seat prevented me from getting any food into my bowl, so I had to ask Rheka and Tavrin for support. Well. Rheka did most of the work, climbing up and down my chair tower like a hyperactive monkey. In the end I barely ate anything. And I didn't remember when the last time was I had eaten, either. Being a dragon sure has its perks! Or was it the fact that I was a Forpal?

Who cares.

The servants moved silently between us, refilling drinks, clearing plates, and generally keeping things running in a smooth manner. It was almost easy to forget they were even there.

“Morning.” the King said, his voice sounding more tired than authoritative. “I hope everyone managed to get some rest.”

“I slept very well! Thank you, Your Majesty!” Urs replied with a respectful raise of his cup.

"Ursus, please. At least you could leave out the formalities." the King said, trying for a tired smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Urs chuckled and gave a casual shrug. “Alright, alright. Good morning, then.”

Zilra looked up briefly from her plate, mumbling a half-hearted, “Morning.” before diving back into her breakfast with the focus of someone who’d rather avoid the conversation.

Valira picked up some more fruit, casually glancing over at me with a playful grin. She seemed to be enjoying the morning a bit too much, and I couldn’t quite tell if she was supposed to be in a good mood or if she was plotting something. Nevermind, she is definitely plotting something.

Orindra was still glued to her book, only glancing up for a moment before burying her nose back into it.

The breakfast went on with polite but quiet chatter I couldn't properly hear. The King’s exhaustion seemed to hang over the meal, making the whole thing feel a bit more subdued than necessary.

I couldn’t help but wonder what the day had in store. With the way things were going, it seemed like we were all on the brink of something interesting - or trouble.

Probably just trouble.

Either way.

I was curious to see where this day would lead.