Silvana stood in the shadows of the west wing's arched window, watching the city of Noctis sleep beneath a sky the color of spilled ink. She was the middle child of the royal house, a constant shadow to the crushing ambition of her older sister, Nyx, and the lethal perfection of her brother, Damon. Where her siblings were defined by cold power, Silvana was defined by a quiet, deep melancholy.
She was a Vampire, naturally, with the pale, perfect skin of her lineage. But her hair was a soft, dark chestnut, not the raven black of Damon or the silverwhite of Nyx. Her eyes were her most striking feature,an unactivated, pale amber that often held a sheen of unshed tears. She carried herself with a fragile grace, a careful posture learned from a lifetime of being overlooked by the stronger powers in the Citadel.
Silvana wasn't thinking about Isolde, the new wife, or the King's political stability. She was thinking about the Dragon.
She had watched the wedding from a dark balcony, hidden by thick velvet curtains. She had seen the entire, brutally intimate confrontation between her brother and Draven. While the rest of the court saw a crude, dangerous enemy, Silvana saw something else entirely. She saw fire, power without restraint, and an animal vitality that shattered the rigid rules of her world.
She remembered Draven's bronze skin, his windswept mahogany hair, and the way his amber eyes had flared to a molten gold when Damon had claimed Isolde. That raw, protective rage was the most honest thing Silvana had ever witnessed in her life. It was so far removed from the cold, calculated cruelty of Noctis that it felt like a forbidden warmth reaching out to her.
Silvana had been secretly obsessed with the Dragon Prince for cycles. The first time she saw him was during a formal border truce meeting when she was barely old enough to understand political strategy. He was a terrifying sight then, powerful and untamed. She had never forgotten the raw force he radiated, a force that both terrified and deeply intrigued her. Her crush was foolish, impossible, and absolutely central to her quiet life.
Now, Isolde had arrived.
Isolde was the key that had brought Draven to the Citadel, even if only for a few brutal minutes. Isolde was the object of Draven's rage, his protective instinct, and his intense proprietary glare. Isolde was now positioned at the center of the conflict, and Silvana felt a deep, complicated swell of envy and fear.
The human girl has what I can never have, Silvana thought, her pale amber eyes fixed on a distant, invisible point on the city horizon. His focus. His heat.
A sharp, familiar voice cut through her thoughts. "Still hiding in the shadows, Silvana? It's tiresome."
Nyx appeared, leaning against the doorway frame, her silver eyes instantly calculating the melancholic scene. She wore a high-collared velvet robe, her pale hands holding a long, slender glass of dark liquid.... likely not wine.
"You should be preparing for the court reception, Nyx. Father expects us all to welcome the new Princess," Silvana replied, keeping her voice soft and even.
Nyx laughed, a short, sharp sound.
"Welcome the new commodity? I already did. She is stubborn, surprisingly resilient, and clearly holds no affection for Damon. A fine start to a volatile political future." Nyx walked toward her sister, her movements graceful and utterly commanding. "Tell me, little sister, what did you truly think of the ceremony? Forget the human, what did you think of the Dragon's outburst?"
Silvana flinched internally. Nyx always saw too much. "He was crude. Typical of the Draconus lineage."
Nyx stopped right next to her, looking out at the dark city. "Crude, yes. But effective. He exposed Damon's pride. And that rage... that was not political, Silvana. That was Kira's son screaming for blood." Nyx paused, then turned her full attention to Silvana, her silver eyes gleaming with predatory amusement. "And I saw the way you watched him, little dove. The way you watched the fire that came into the ice palace."
Silvana felt her cheeks flush, a humiliatingly human reaction. "You mistake my professional curiosity for...."
"Oh, don't be tedious. Your professional curiosity is about how many lace collars are in your closet. Your personal curiosity is centered entirely on anything that can destroy your brother's composure," Nyx drawled, taking a slow sip of her drink.
"Draven is fire. You are water. The curiosity is understandable. But I warn you, that man is the most dangerous creature we have ever dealt with. He is a walking, breathing threat, and he holds a deadly grudge against this Citadel for his mother's death."
Nyx then softened her tone, a rare, chilling gesture that made the words more venomous. "And now he is obsessed with Isolde. He sees her as a symbol of the arrogance that killed his mother. Do you understand what this means for you, Silvana? The one thing you find fascinating is now permanently focused on your rival. The human woman is a threat to the family, but she is also a threat to your little secret crush."
The bluntness of the observation hit Silvana hard. It was true. Isolde was everything Silvana was not... resilient, openly defiant, and now, the unwilling focus of the Dragon Prince.
"I will be polite to the Princess," Silvana managed, her voice trembling slightly. "She is now Damon's wife."
"Good. Be polite. But be better than polite, Silvana. Be necessary," Nyx advised, her gaze hardening. "Damon is busy with his plans and his new toy. Isolde is alone, isolated, and hates being trapped. She is a woman who needs allies, no matter how fragile. If you can earn her trust, if you can become the one person she thinks she can talk to, you become the most valuable resource in this Citadel."
Nyx's scheme was clear, use Silvana's quiet empathy and gentle nature to create a political trap for Isolde. But in Nyx's command, Silvana saw a strange, new opportunity. She could approach Isolde, not as a spy, but as a genuine, lonely ally. And if she was close to Isolde, she would be perfectly positioned when Draven inevitably made his next, explosive move. She could watch. She could get closer to the fire.
"What if she asks about Draven?" Silvana asked, testing the waters.
Nyx smirked, recognizing the deep, personal motivation behind the question. "If she asks about the Dragon, tell her the truth... he is beautiful, brutal, and wants her dead or freed, simply to spite Damon. Tell her he is dangerous to all of us. It's excellent motivation to trust you." Nyx tapped her glass against the stone archway and walked away, leaving Silvana to process the new, treacherous command.
Silvana stood, no longer staring at the dark horizon, but at the reflection of her pale face in the glass. Isolde. A woman of fire trapped by the ice, and the key to the most dangerous man on the planet. The loneliness in her chest was replaced by a strange, cold resolve. She would be polite, she would be necessary, and she would watch the Fire Dragon, even if she had to stand next to his prize to do it.