Isabel shook her head slightly. "I'm not sure. But whoever it is, they're watching us closely."
As she looked up at the high balcony, she noticed the entire area was draped with rich, red regal curtains that fluttered gently in the breeze.
The balcony was so high that she could not see the occupants clearly, but she caught a glimpse of a noble woman, distinguished by a crown on her head. Isabel guessed it must be the queen.
The sight of the queen's silhouette added a new layer of gravity to the ceremony. Isabel felt a mixture of excitement and pressure, knowing that such important eyes were upon them.
Kaelan added, "It doesn't matter who is up there. What matters is what happens down here. Let's focus on the task at hand."
As they stood in their line, a hush fell over the crowd. The head of the council, an elderly man with a long white beard and piercing blue eyes, stepped forward. He raised his hands, calling for silence.
"Welcome, candidates, to the Dragon's Keep," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the open space. "Today, you stand on the threshold of greatness. The dragons have sensed your presence and will choose those they deem worthy. This is a sacred event, one that binds rider and dragon in a bond of loyalty and strength. Approach with respect and honor."
The head of the council paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. Then he continued, "In a moment, each of you will be teleported to a different location within the Dragon's Keep. It is there that your true journey begins. Only you can find your destination, guided by your instincts and the connection you share with the dragons. If a dragon deems you worthy, it will approach you. If you are not worthy in the eyes of any dragon, you will never sense their presence."
A murmur of anticipation rippled through the candidates. Isabel felt her heart pound in her chest. The thought of being teleported alone to an unknown part of the keep was daunting, but also exhilarating.
"The ceremony will continue for one week," the council leader announced. "You have only one week to prove yourselves. If no dragon approaches you within that time, you will be disqualified. However, if a dragon does choose you, it will guide you back here, where you will arrive on its back, flying into the arena to continue the bonding ceremony."
Isabel exchanged a determined glance with Mirael, Kaelan, and Alaric. They were ready for this challenge, despite the uncertainties that lay ahead.
The balcony where the royal family sat was an architectural marvel, designed to embody the grandeur and power of the Valareat monarchy. Elevated high above the arena, it offered an unobstructed view of the ceremonies below.
The balcony was spacious, crafted from polished marble that gleamed under the sunlight. Intricate gold inlays traced elaborate patterns along the balustrades, depicting scenes of legendary dragon riders and epic battles.
Rich, red regal curtains framed the balcony, fluttering gently in the breeze and adding a touch of majesty to the scene. These curtains were embroidered with golden threads, forming the royal crest of Valaraeth—a majestic dragon intertwined with a sword.
The luxurious fabric not only provided a sense of privacy but also emphasized the opulence of the royal family.
At the center of the balcony, Queen Marie sat on an ornate throne, crafted from dark mahogany and embellished with gold and precious gemstones.
The throne's high backrest was adorned with the same dragon motif, symbolizing the queen's authority and connection to the ancient tradition of dragon riding.
Her crown, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, sparkled with diamonds and rubies, and her presence exuded an air of regality and strength.
To her right, Princess Elysia drá Ashéncrest, the third princess, sat in a slightly smaller but equally elaborate chair. Her attire was a blend of elegance and practicality, with a flowing gown in shades of deep blue and silver, hinting at her adventurous spirit. Her keen eyes watched the proceedings with an intense curiosity, reflecting her active interest in the candidates' potential.
On the queen's left, Princess Thalassa drá Ashéncrest, the fourth princess, sat with a composed demeanor. Her chair, though less adorned than her mother's and sister's, was still a work of art, showcasing the same craftsmanship. Thalassa's gown was a serene green.
Flanking the royal family were members of the royal guard, standing at attention in their gleaming armor. Their presence added an extra layer of security and formality to the already regal setting. Banners bearing the Valaraeth crest hung from the walls, further emphasizing the importance of the event.
Princess Thalassa shifted impatiently in her seat, her eyes narrowing as she watched the proceedings below. She turned to her mother, her voice carrying a hint of a whine. "How long will this take? The old man is continuously giving a speech. I am bored. When will we be able to go inside the Dragon's Keep? I cannot wait to capture a dragon for myself. It will be the most powerful dragon in history," she said haughtily.
Queen Marie's gaze sharpened, and she gave her youngest daughter a stern look. "Behave yourself, Thalassa. Dragons are not your playthings. They command respect and are not your slaves."
"But Momma..." Thalassa began, her voice tinged with frustration.
"Dragons can sense your nature, Thalassa. Be careful, or no dragon will choose you," Queen Marie warned. "How can you curse me like that? How can a royal be without a dragon?" Thalassa retorted, her voice rising.
"Then you will be the first one, because of your foolishness," the queen replied firmly.
Thalassa's eyes filled with tears as she looked at her mother, feeling aggrieved. Princess Elysia, sensing the tension, spoke up with a sweet smile. "Queen Mother, let her be. She is a child; don't be angry with her."
Thalassa turned to Elysia, her expression softening. "Only you care about me," she said softly.
The queen sighed, her tone softening slightly. "Child, don't forget that both of you are twin sisters. But the two of you are as different as chicken and phoenix."
Thalassa pouted, but she remained silent, understanding the gravity of her mother's words. She glanced back at the arena, her impatience tempered by her mother's admonishment.
"Chicken and phoenix, what a beautiful comparison," a male voice rang behind them, accompanied by the approaching footsteps of boots.