Zabina
I step out of the bath wrapped in the clothes Stema brought me: a simple but beautiful cream-and-silver dress that fits softly against my body. There's a sweet, deep ache between my legs — a reminder of every slow thrust, every moan, every time Abisai looked into my eyes as he made me his.
I still feel his warmth on my skin.
A knock at the door.
Stema approaches and opens it with a respectful bow.
"My lady."
Bamylan enters.
The air in the room shifts instantly. I go rigid as a post, unsure how to act before the future empress. She moves with elegance, her black dress with golden lace accentuating her imposing figure. Her yellow eyes lock onto me like daggers.
She stops just over a metre away.
"So you're my future husband's favorite," she says softly, but each word cuts like glass.
I don't answer. My throat tightens.
Bamylan tilts her head slightly, studying me from head to toe.
"I'm glad Abisai gave you that tiara." Her eyes linger for a second on the jewel resting on my head. "It means he values you enough to protect you. It also means he knows exactly what you are… something that needs protection."
She pauses, letting her words sink in.
"I don't need his. Emperors have mistresses. They have concubines. They have women to entertain them and warm their beds at night. But they only have one empress." She steps closer, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper. "Remember that when you think you have something I don't."
The silence that follows is heavy. I feel my cheeks burn, but I lift my chin and hold her gaze.
"I don't want his throne," I reply quietly but firmly. "Or his crown."
Bamylan lets out a laugh.
"How naive you are. It's not about what you want, but what he gives you." She takes another step closer. "Abisai is fire. He'll burn you until nothing's left. And when he tires of you, when he needs a wife to give him legitimate heirs and stability for the empire, I'll still be here." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Sitting beside him on the throne. You… you'll just be a fond memory in his bed."
Her words sting more than I want to admit. A lump forms in my throat, but I don't look away.
Stema shifts uncomfortably beside me but doesn't intervene.
Bamylan steps back, regaining her regal composure.
"Enjoy it while it lasts, human," she says with a cold smile. "Because concubines come and go. Empresses stay."
She turns with elegance and leaves the room without a backward glance.
The silence that remains is deafening.
I stand in the centre of the chambers, my hands trembling slightly. The tiara feels heavier than ever on my head.
Stema approaches cautiously and touches my arm gently.
"Don't mind her, miss," she murmurs. "Miss Bamylan is… afraid. She knows the prince looks at you differently than he looks at her."
I don't respond. I just stare at the door where the future empress left.
Because no matter how much I want to deny it, her words have struck something deep.
I'm not an empress.
I'm the secret.
The white dragon hidden in the black dragon's bed — the one destined to rule the kingdom that exterminated my kind.
"Come, miss. The prince is waiting for you in his study."
"I didn't ask for this, Stema," I whisper, still looking at the door where Bamylan left.
She looks at me and sighs, with that maternal expression she always seems to have when she's with me.
"You're too naive for this empire of dragons, little one. Of course the future empress would want to mark her territory. Everyone in the harem knows about the prince's new favorite."
"New?" I ask, my throat tight.
Stema smiles tenderly.
"There are other humans in this kingdom, Zabina. Even princesses and nobles whose parents bargain for protection. The future empress can't touch you as long as you matter to the prince. And believe me… you matter. More than he'd care to admit."
I force a smile I don't entirely feel.
"Thank you for being here with me."
"Always, little one," she replies, stroking my arm. "Abisai is like a son to me. I was his mother's lady-in-waiting. I know him better than anyone. I swear he's never kept a woman in his chambers the way he's kept you. Now come, let's not keep him waiting."
I nod and follow her through the palace halls. Each step echoes in my chest like a reminder of how far I am from my forest — and Bamylan's words still sting like thorns.
When we enter Abisai's private study, he's standing by the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the kingdom he'll one day rule. In a chair, an elderly man with a serene posture stares at me.
At the sound of us, Abisai turns. His eyes soften when he sees me — but only for a moment.
"Stema, you may leave," he says without taking his eyes off me.
Stema bows and slips out silently, closing the door behind her.
Abisai approaches. He stops in front of me and lifts a hand to brush the tiara with his fingertips.
"How do you feel?"
"Fine," I reply.
He notices the change. He furrows his brow slightly and gently grips my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
"What happened?"
I hesitate. I don't want to seem jealous, or weak, or… less than her. But Bamylan's words still echo in my head.
I smile and shake my head.
"Nothing."
"Come. I want you to meet someone."
We sit across from the elderly man.
"Vacul, Zabina. Zabina, Vacul," he introduces us.
"Hello, little dragon," Vacul says.
I don't like the way he looks at me. I swallow my objections.
"May I see the gem on your chest?" he asks directly.
I look to Abisai for support. He gives me a subtle nod, signalling me to proceed.
I pull the fabric of my dress aside, exposing the silver gem resting between my breasts.
Vacul leans forward. His gaze intensifies. He tenses his jaw, and for a moment, something like fear crosses his face. He makes a quick gesture to Abisai and rises to his feet with difficulty.
"You know what you must do, prince," he says.
Then he leaves the study without another word, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
I look at Abisai. He's leaning back in his chair, his gaze lost in some undefined point on the floor. His expression is serious, almost grim. The man who just hours ago whispered promises in my ear as he moved inside me now seems far away.
And my heart races.