They did not parade him.
Not officially.
But word travels faster than dignity.
By the time Edward was escorted through the outer gates—
People were already watching.
Whispers.
Pointing.
Murmurs thick with curiosity and judgment.
"Is that him?"
"The one hiding the dragon?"
"Traitor…"
Edward walked steadily.
Chains at his wrists.
Back straight.
He did not lower his head.
He would not give them that.
Jack walked beside him.
Silent.
Not proud.
Not cruel.
Just carrying out what he believed was necessary.
"Where are you taking her?" Edward asked quietly.
"Separate holding," Jack answered.
"She's under observation."
Edward's jaw tightened.
"She's not an animal."
"I know."
But the kingdom did not.
---
Elsa was not bound.
That was deliberate.
Chains had failed once.
No one was eager to repeat that mistake.
Instead—
She was surrounded.
Watched.
Measured.
As she entered the capital for the first time.
Stone walls higher than any tree she had known.
Banners fluttering overhead.
A city full of life.
Full of people.
All staring.
Some in fear.
Some in fascination.
Some in disgust.
Her horns were uncovered.
Jack had insisted.
"No hiding," he'd said. "Let them see truth."
Truth.
She felt like an exhibit.
Children hid behind their mothers.
Merchants stepped back from their stalls.
One man spat on the ground as she passed.
"Monster."
She did not react.
Not outwardly.
Inside—
Something cold began to form.
---
Edward was brought before the council chamber first.
High ceiling.
Cold stone.
Ten figures seated above.
Judges.
Advisors.
Men who had never held a spear against a dragon—
Now deciding the fate of one.
The charges were read.
Harboring a dragon-blood.
Concealment.
Deception.
Endangerment of the realm.
Edward listened.
Expression unchanged.
When asked for defense—
He spoke only one sentence.
"She is not your enemy."
Murmurs filled the chamber.
One councilor leaned forward.
"And when she loses control?"
"She hasn't."
"Yet."
Silence.
Edward did not argue further.
Because he understood something now.
They had already decided.
---
Elsa's "observation" was not a cell.
But it was worse.
A circular chamber.
Open roof.
Runes carved along the walls.
Mages stationed above.
Watching.
Testing.
A scholar approached carefully.
Older.
Thin.
Eyes sharp with curiosity.
"Can you feel the inscriptions?" he asked.
Elsa didn't answer.
He circled her slowly.
"Fascinating stability."
She finally looked at him.
"I'm not a specimen."
He smiled faintly.
"That remains to be seen."
Her hands tightened.
The air warmed slightly.
The runes along the wall flickered.
Mages stiffened.
The scholar raised a hand.
"Easy. We're only measuring."
"I didn't ask to be measured."
Her voice was calm.
But it carried something deeper now.
Resentment.
---
Days passed.
Edward remained confined.
Interrogated repeatedly.
Not tortured.
The kingdom was more refined than that.
But the questions were endless.
"What are her limits?"
"Can she transform fully?"
"Does she have allegiance to any dragon faction?"
Edward answered minimally.
He would not give them fuel.
Meanwhile—
Elsa endured.
Testing.
Prodding.
Whispers behind glass.
"She killed two knights."
"She held back."
"Only because she was uncertain."
"She will mature."
"Which makes her more dangerous."
Each word carved something inside her.
She had walked peacefully.
They had struck first.
Yet she was the threat.
---
On the fourth day—
She saw him.
Through a barred corridor.
Being escorted back to his holding.
Chains still on.
He looked thinner already.
Older.
Their eyes met.
For a moment—
Everything else disappeared.
She stepped forward.
Guards tensed immediately.
"Stop."
She ignored them.
"Father."
His voice was steady.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head.
"No."
He searched her face carefully.
Not for damage.
For control.
For cracks.
She held his gaze firmly.
"I'm fine."
He nodded once.
"Good."
A pause.
Then she said quietly—
"They look at me like I've already burned the world."
He inhaled slowly.
"Then prove them wrong."
Her jaw tightened.
"I was."
Silence.
He understood the meaning behind it.
She had been trying.
Before spears.
Before chains.
Before ash.
"Elsa," he said softly.
"Don't let them decide who you are."
Her eyes shimmered faint gold.
"They already have."
The guards pulled him away.
She did not resist.
She did not call out.
But something inside her shifted again.
Not fire.
Not yet.
Something colder.
Distance.
---
That night—
The council convened privately.
Reports stacked on the table.
Heat fluctuations.
Power assessments.
Containment probabilities.
One councilor spoke bluntly.
"If she reaches maturity, no standard unit can stop her."
Another countered—
"She has shown restraint."
A third leaned forward.
"She killed two of our own."
Silence.
Jack stood at the edge of the chamber.
Listening.
Uncomfortable.
He finally spoke.
"She defended her father."
Eyes turned toward him.
One councilor asked—
"And if the father is removed?"
The room went quiet.
Jack's chest tightened.
"That would be unnecessary."
"Would it?"
The implication hung in the air.
Cold.
Calculated.
Jack realized something then.
This was no longer about containment.
It was about prevention.
Prevention of a future that hadn't happened yet.
---
Elsa stood alone in her chamber.
Looking up at the open sky.
Stars scattered above.
Unreachable.
She touched her horn lightly.
Black again.
Calm.
She whispered softly—
"I won't lose control."
But the words felt different now.
Not promise.
Not confidence.
A warning.
To herself.