Chapter 3

The invitation burned to ash between my fingers.

Cassian's smile disappeared.

"You burned our wedding invitation."

"I burned a piece of paper."

"You knew what it meant."

"It meant nothing to me."

His servants placed the silver chest on the ground. Cassian opened it and showed me rows of rare herbs, crystal roots, and bottles of healing oil.

"I brought these for you," he said. "Seren has been sick since the coronation. The healers say she has a cold poison in her blood. Only your dragon-heart flame can drive it out."

I looked at the chest.

"Then take your herbs back."

Cassian's eyes narrowed. "Ayla, I am asking for three drops."

"Three drops will damage my heart for years."

"You have given me more than that before."

The words landed without a trace of shame.

He had not forgotten. He simply did not care.

During the war, whenever Cassian came back wounded, I had cut open the scales over my chest and pulled out my heart flame. The first time, I gave him one drop after a spear pierced his side. The second time, I gave him two after an Abyss curse froze his lungs.

Each drop left a burning hole in my body.

The healers had warned me that one drop of heart flame took a hundred doses of rare medicine to restore. I kept giving it anyway. By the end of the war, pale scars covered my ribs.

Cassian had watched me bleed into his medicine cup.

Now he stood in front of my gate and called three drops a small favor.

"I am not your medicine jar," I said.

He frowned. "I won't take it for free. The chest contains enough to replace what you lose."

"You could empty every vault in the Dragon Empire. I still would not give you one drop."

His face hardened.

"Seren is suffering."

"Then let her suffer without using my body."

The guards behind him shifted. My clan warriors appeared along the walls, bows already drawn.

Cassian took one step toward me.

"You have become cruel."

"I learned from the best."

He pointed at my chest. "You will give me the flame."

"No."

"You were always willing to save me."

"I was stupid then."

A vein jumped in his temple.

I turned to the gate guards. "Take the king and his gifts back to the palace."

Cassian's voice rose behind me.

"Ayla! What will it take? Name your price!"

I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

"It is simple. Give up your throne."

His mouth fell open.

"I will give you three drops of heart flame the moment you step down."

"You are out of your mind."

"I thought three drops were nothing."

The guards moved forward. Cassian shoved one aside and climbed onto his carriage.

"I will give you three days," he shouted. "Bring the heart flame to my palace, or I will come and take it myself."

I folded my arms.

"If you have the courage, come."

The carriage lifted into the clouds.

By the next morning, reports arrived from every direction.

Cassian had ordered the seven cities to send workers and stone for Seren's new palace. The palace would be built above the capital, where the clouds were thick enough to hold an entire garden and private lake.

Workers were dragged from their homes. Families were separated. Anyone who slowed down was whipped. Anyone who complained was thrown from the construction platforms.

A merchant captain arrived at our gate with blood on his coat.

"They took half my crew," he said. "My brother protested. The king had his hands cut off in the market."

Two city lords came after him.

"Please," Lord Harlan of Cloudmere said. "You helped put Cassian on the throne. Maybe he will listen to you."

"He will not listen to me," I said.

"He listens to Seren."

"That is the problem."

More letters followed. Cassian had announced that every ruler must attend his wedding. Any city that refused would lose its land and its place in the sky routes.

The man who once called himself the protector of the seven cities now ruled through fear.

Three days passed.

Cassian did not come for my heart flame.

Instead, a messenger arrived from the capital before dawn.

He was barely able to stand.

"What happened?" I asked.

He dropped to his knees. "The workers gathered in the central square. They refused to build the palace. Thousands of them."

"Did Cassian meet them?"

The messenger shook his head.

"He sent the dragon riders."

I followed him to the balcony overlooking the lower clouds. From there, the capital was only a dark line on the horizon, but the messenger's words filled in the rest.

The workers had raised empty hands and demanded their families back. The dragon riders had charged into the crowd.

Cassian had ordered them to keep killing until the square was silent.

"The bodies were pushed over the edge," the messenger whispered. "Blood ran down the cloud bridges."

Behind him, another rider arrived with a torn banner in his hands.

"Lady Ayla," he said, breathing hard. "The people are gathering again. This time they are marching toward the palace."

I looked toward the distant capital.

Cassian had wanted a throne above the clouds.

Now the whole empire was rising beneath it.