Page 42 of Song of the Shadow Prince
“Ah, okay.” I stretched my neck from side to side. “Will you be coming with us?”
Maeve shook her head. “I won’t be needed. The palace has plenty of servants to tend to your needs.”
A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of going without Maeve. She was my little Wikipedia of Elaria. Without her, I didn’t know shit about this place.
“Now, let’s get you dressed and ready. It’s almost a two-hour ride through Dragon Valley.” She ushered me to the vanity and I sat on the upholstered chair. She met my eyes again in the mirror, wearing a solemn expression. “You’ll have to be very careful, Cat.”
Maeve wasn’t wrong. It was time to put my acting prowess to work. All our lives could depend on it.
Maeve pulledout all the stops, turning me into a walking, talking Renaissance painting—only with better hair and a more dramatic eye. My dress, a deep shade of emerald green that popped against my golden skin, hugged me in all the right places before billowing out into a spectacular train that I was pretty sure I’d trip over at least once today. Long sleeved, of course, to hide my tattoos. The material felt expensive and heavy, like wearing a luxurious weighted blanket but in a fancy way. My hair was coiled in an elaborate up-do, decked out with gold hairpins and autumn-hued leaves that made me feel like I was wearing a crown, except without the heavy metal and the responsibility.
Maeve applied my makeup to the nines. My face was smoother than a photoshopped model, and my eyes—well, let’s just say they would make a smoky bar jealous. And my lips were a bold, dark red that was probably visible from space.
Riding in a carriage fancier than any limo back home, Lord Zacharia, Gianna, and I were on our way to Dragon Valley. According to Maeve, that part of the country didn’t house only the palace; it was also home turf for the four dragon clans—Drakonar, Nocturna, Blazix, and Ignis.
The carriage wheels crunched along the gravel road as we wound deeper into the folds of Dragon Valley. After a solid hour-and-a-half trek that had my rear numb and my patience thinner than my eyeliner, curiosity got the best of me. I yanked back the plush curtain, eager for my first real look at Dragon Valley. Maeve had hyped it up like it was the supernatural equivalent of Hollywood, and honestly? She wasn’t far off.
The valley sprawled below us, a lively tableau that mixed rustic charm with dragon-sized grandeur. It wasn’t just a riverand some pretty leaves; this place wasalive. A river snaked through the center, a blue vein pulsing with vitality, bordered by rows of quaint houses and bustling markets.
The streets were a flurry of activity, with dragon shifters in their human forms mingling, bartering, and going about their daily routines. Stalls overflowed with goods that glinted under the sun—jewelry that could make a magpie weep, spices that tickled my nose even from a distance, and fabrics that shimmered as if they were woven from the night sky itself. It was a far cry from the stiff upper lip of the Northern District where the nobles strutted, and miles away from the gritty, downtrodden vibe of the Southern District. Here, everyone moved with a purpose and pride that was contagious.
And the dragons? Oh, they weren't hiding. Immense creatures swept through the skies with a casual grace that made Olympic gymnasts look clumsy. Occasionally, one would shift mid-flight, transforming from a majestic beast into a person who landed with the ease of someone hopping off a bus. It was clear who ran the show around here, and it wasn’t the folks up in the Northern District with their fancy titles.
As we coiled up the mountain, the homes and markets thinned out and gave way to lush, open parklands where younger dragons tumbled and played, their laughter echoing against the stone. The scene was so different from anything back home—like stepping into a fantasy novel where dragons were neighbors, not nightmares.
And there, just visible as we rounded another bend, were the tips of the palace peeking over the mountaintop like it was playing hide and seek with us. It sat aloof from the vibrant life below, its spires catching the light, a silent sentinel watching over its lively domain. I leaned back, impressed despite myself. Dragon Valley wasn’t simply a place; it was a whole vibe, a kingdom where dragons ruled not just the skies, but themarketplaces and homes, their presence woven into the very fabric of the valley.
“How are you feeling?” Lord Zacharia carefully asked as I pulled the curtain back in place.
I peered over and realized he was talking to me. Throughout the carriage ride he’d been relatively quiet, whispering with Gianna, who sat beside him. I cleared my throat. “Um… I’m fine.” Looking at him still unnerved me. He was an exact replica of my father. My very dead father. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and hug him something fierce, but I knew deep down in my bones, he wasn’t really my father. He was Arya’s. And no replica could replace him.
“Good… good,” he murmured. “I’ve been busy, so I’ve been unable to check on you much since your accident. I hope Maeve has been taking care of you.”
“She’s been wonderful,” I said. “Maeve’s the best.”
Lord Zacharia and Gianna froze as they stared at me in bewilderment.Hmm… I guess Arya doesn’t sing Maeve’s praises much.
I tapped the side of my head and chuckled. “Maybe I’m not all there just yet.”
They laughed awkwardly with me and nodded. “Are you up to seeing the emperor in your… condition?” Gianna asked softly.
I waved off their concern. “Maeve prepped me, so have no fear. I should be fine.”
“Father, maybe it’s best if Arya pleads illness,” Gianna said with a grimace.
I frowned. “I said I was fine,” I repeated.
“Arya, it’s just—”
“If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it,” I cut her off, channeling the real Arya’s attitude.
Gianna jerked back as if I’d slapped her. Maybe I’d been too nice lately and she had gotten so used to this new, gentler, kinder Arya that she didn’t expect it.
Honestly, I didn’t understand Arya and Maeve’s hostility toward her, but I didn’t appreciate her suggestion that I needed to leave after we’d already ridden two hours to get here. Like, what was the point? This was a conversation we should have had before we left home if she wasthatconcerned. If I turned around and left now, it would look bad, an insult to the emperor.
Her actions seemed… pleasantly intentional. I didn’t like this kind of shady shit.
Her guileless eyes widened. “My apologies, Arya, I just thought—”
