Cerys sat cross-legged on a stone floor, surrounded by intense heat that left trails of sweat on her bare skin. Her back was straight, and her hands rested lightly on her knees. As steam swirled around the room, her damp black hair stuck to her neck and shoulders. She took in slow, deep breaths, putting herself in a relaxed, meditative state.

  Breathe in control… her dragon purred in her mind. Breathe out chaos…

  The mantra echoed like a heartbeat throughout her body. Cerys could feel her soul coming alive as her dragon’s volcanic heat coursed through her veins. Waiting just beneath the surface of her skin were rivers of lava, begging to be released.

  Control is power… her dragon whispered as the princess took another slow breath in.

  At the edge of the room, a servant knelt in silence, pouring another ladle of water over heated stones. The loud hiss of fresh steam erupted from the rocks, filling the room.

  Our chaos will spread… the dragon continued. Like a volcano erupting, we will descend upon Altyria and scorch the earth.

  Lava had always been Cerys’s element…her birthright…her weapon. She had inherited the mutation from her father, and together, they wielded it like gods, shaping the world to their will. Enemies would turn to ash; kingdoms would fall at their feet. It was only a matter of time...

  A loud knock at the door shattered the princess’s meditation. Cerys snapped her eyes open, revealing her dragon’s bright yellow hue. She didn’t move but listened to the hesitant footsteps that made their way into the sauna.

  “Your Highness?” A timid voice called out.

  Cerys took in a deep breath, smelling the putrid scent of fear. Her jaw tightened, and she refused to acknowledge the maid.

  “Y-Your Highness?” The girl tried again.

  “I am giving you one chance to leave,” Cerys growled as she narrowed her eyes. “Because if this interruption is not important, I will make you swim in lava.”

  “I’m s-s-sorry,” the maid stuttered in a trembling voice. “But the carriage carrying the prince from Sylvaris has been spotted approaching the city.”

  “How long until he is here?” The princess demanded with a frown.

  “An hour, Your Highness.”

  Cerys inhaled, causing her nostrils to flare with irritation. She ran her hands through her damp hair, pulling it away from her face as she stood. The maid held out a tray with trembling hands, offering a bowl of cool water and a towel. Cerys ignored the woman’s obvious terror, walking over and dipping the towel into the bowl. After wringing it out, she wiped her face and neck, sighing as the cool cloth brushed against her overheated skin.

  As she finished, one of her ladies-in-waiting approached with a purple robe. Cerys took it without a word, slipping it over her shoulders and tying the sash.

  “Prepare the greeting hall,” Cerys commanded as a shiver of disgust went through her body. “Let’s get ready to greet our esteemed guest, shall we?”

  “Y-yes, Your Highness,” the maid stammered, bowing deeply before scurrying away.

  After returning to her chambers to clean up and dress, Cerys went down the hall to await the carriage’s arrival. She wore a floor-length red and gold gown that looked like a pool of lava as she walked, and her hair was pinned up with golden pins shaped like flames.

  When the sound of hooves hitting pavement reached her ears, she walked to the center of the room. She glanced at her reflection in a nearby polished shield before adjusting a few loose strands of hair and lightly pinching her cheeks.

  As the doors opened, Cerys turned to look ahead, watching as Reece and Henrik were the first to step inside. She tilted her head with furrowed brows as she wondered where Emmett was. However, before she could question the men, a guard stepped in, carrying the prince in his arms. Cerys’s jaw dropped at the sight of Emmett. He was always frail, but now he was barely recognizable. His body looked skeletal, with his pale skin stretched tightly over his bones.

  “Emmett?” She whispered as she moved closer.

  The prince’s head turned slightly, and his eyes struggled to focus on her.

  “Cerys?” He rasped. “Is that… you?”

  “It’s me,” she nodded with a confused expression. “What happened to you?”

  “I’m just tired,” he murmured, resting his head against the guard’s shoulder. “Mother tried to teach me how to swim…”

  “Your mother?” Cerys repeated as she snapped her head to Henrik and Reece.

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  “Yes,” the prince nodded, closing his eyes. “Tell me when she comes back inside… I want to take a nap.”

  “Take him to his room,” Cerys ordered with a wave of her hand. The guard gave a quick nod and hurried out with the prince.

  Steam began to rise from the princess’s shoulders as soon as the guard left the hall.

  “What happened to him?!” She growled, her voice echoing through the room like thunder.

  Henrik opened his mouth to speak, but Reece silenced him with a raised hand.

  “They overdosed the prince,” the Earl stated flatly.

  “They what?!” Cerys roared as her heat intensified.

  Henrik tried to speak again, but Reece spoke up first.

  “Julian locked him away, forbidding anyone but healers to see him. Emmett went five days without his medicine before Henrik and Kohen managed to sneak some to him.”

  “How much did you give him?” Cerys demanded as she glared at Henrik. “Answer me! How much?”

  “F-five days’ worth…” he stammered as sweat formed on his brow. “One for each day he missed.”

  The room seemed to darken as Cerys’s anger grew. A guard stepped forward, grabbing Henrik by the arms as the lord tried to back away from the princess.

  “Why would you think that was a good idea?!” She shouted. “I told you to never give him more than one dose at a time! You could have killed him!”

  “They essentially did,” Reece interjected grimly. “He’s lost his mind, most of his memory, and any ability to function as a human.”

  “And where were you when this happened?” Cerys growled as she turned her anger onto the Earl.

  “I was in Ruggeweyn, working to secure Viscount Quinn’s allegiance,” Reece replied calmly, meeting her gaze. “I arrived at Cuthbert Palace after it happened. Since then, I’ve been running interference between Emmett and his family.”

  “You expect me to believe you were unaware this was happening?” She questioned as she struggled to contain her fury.

  “I don’t expect anything,” the young lord replied. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  Cerys glanced out of the corner of her eye at Henrik, thinking to herself before returning her attention to Reece.

  “Alright, fine,” she scowled, clenching her fists. “Where’s Kohen?”

  “He decided to stay behind in Jux,” the Earl answered with a nonchalant shrug. “Said he would prefer to remain useful.”

  “I see…” Cerys murmured. She hated to admit it, but the man was smart for not returning to Drurus. As long as he kept showing results, he could continue to breathe another day. “And what about Emmett’s declaration of war? Has it been sent out?”

  Reece gave a curt nod, reaching into his bag and pulling out a rolled parchment.

  “This is a duplicate,” he said, extending it toward her.

  Cerys stared at the paper for a moment before one of her ladies-in-waiting stepped forward and took it from Reece. The woman retreated with a bow, and Cerys turned her attention to Henrik.

  “Are you satisfied with all you’ve accomplished these past few years?” She inquired in an oddly sweet voice.

  Henrik blinked, visibly startled by her tone.

  “I…uh…” he stammered. “I admit there were some mistakes, Your Highness, but I feel as though I’ve served Drurus—and King Arnav—well.”

  “Well?” Cerys echoed with a dry laugh. “Do you know what my father used to say about you, Henrik? He said you were a man of results. Someone willing to do anything to serve the crown. But now… it seems you’ve grown soft. Lazy, even. Perhaps it’s our fault. My father spoiled you after you helped him secure the throne. We gave you wealth, lands, power—but perhaps we gave too much.”

  “Your Highness,” Henrik interrupted quickly. “Please, give me another chance to prove myself! I swear I can do better!”

  “You want another chance?” The princess inquired as she stepped closer.

  “Yes, Your Highness! Please!” He pleaded, clasping his hands together. “I’ll do anything to serve you and Drurus.”

  The princess reached out, placing a hand on his face before leaning close to his ear.

  “Then bleed out quietly for me,” she whispered.

  “W-w-what?” Henrik stammered as his face paled.

  “That’s your second chance,” Cerys smiled, stepping away from the old man. “Bleed out for me… quietly.”

  Before he could respond, the guard restraining Henrik shoved him forward and sent a sword into his back all the way through his stomach. Henrik gasped before looking down at his wound in disbelief. Cerys watched as the sword was pulled free, causing blood to pour out from the old lord’s body. Henrik collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach as he started to scream in pain.

  “Even in your death, you fail me,” she sighed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. With a huff, she turned to the guard. “Let him bleed out right there. If he tries to move, break his legs. When he’s dead, roll his body in this carpet and send it back to his family. Tell them it’s the last kindness they’ll ever receive from the royal family.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” The guard bowed deeply before placing a boot on Henrik’s back, forcing him further down onto the blood-soaked floor.

  Reece remained frozen in place, his face pale and hands trembling. He dared not speak, and his gaze was fixed on Henrik until the princess approached. Cerys gripped his chin firmly, tilting his face until their eyes met.

  “There’s no need to look at such disgusting things,” she said softly, her voice almost soothing.

  Cerys let her fingers linger on Reece’s chin for a moment before releasing him. A smile formed across her face as her eyes trailed down his body.

  “Tell me, Earl of Walford—or should I say Duke—do you know how to please a woman with your hands and mouth?”

  Reece stiffened, holding his breath to calm his racing heart. His face grew hot, and he was utterly speechless for a moment. Finally, he nodded.

  “Y-yes, Your Highness.”

  Cerys reached out and gently patted his cheek.

  “Good. That’s very good.” She stepped back, tilting her head slightly as she studied him some more. “If you were to receive a…request…to visit my private bedchambers tonight, would you decline?”

  Reece’s heart thundered in his chest. He knew saying yes could mean joining Henrik on the floor. But at the same time, should he say no and later go to the princess’s chambers, his life would still be in danger. It didn’t matter how beautiful Cerys was; the fear of displeasing her and incurring her wrath would always linger in his mind.

  “I would never turn down such an invitation,” he finally replied as he straightened his back. “It would be an honor.”

  “Such a proper answer,” Cerys nodded approvingly as she motioned to one of her ladies-in-waiting. A young woman with a large bust stepped forward.

  “Lydia,” the princess addressed. “Take the Duke to his chambers. Personally see to it that he is comfortable and properly cleaned. I want him relaxed before tonight.”

  “Of course, Your Highness,” Lydia bowed her head.

  Reece glanced nervously between the princess and the lady, unsure of what to expect. As Lydia moved to guide him from the room, Cerys turned her back to them. She purposely walked over Henrik’s trembling body, stepping in his blood as she went to the other side of the hall.