The grand hall was alive with activity. Servants moved quickly, arranging garlands, adjusting banners, and polishing every surface until the wood gleamed under the light. The air was thick with the scent of roses and anticipation. Today was the day—the suitor selection for Princess Cielle.
In her chamber, Cielle sat by the window, lost in thought, when a knock broke the silence. A servant entered, bowing low before handing her a small, ornate box.
"It's from the queen," the servant murmured before retreating.
Curious, Cielle opened the box, her delicate fingers lifting the lid. Inside lay a collar—finely crafted with intricate designs etched into the silver. The metal shimmered faintly, but its purpose was unmistakable. Her breath caught as she unfolded the letter tucked inside.
"Your dragon must wear this during the ceremony," the queen's message read, the words curt and cold.
