"A long time ago, a dragon king fell in love with a human peasant," Python began. "This king's name was Aleksandro, and he ruled not only the lands of Drakondia but also Londrin. Prophecies warned him of the dangers of this union, but he paid them no mind and followed his heart with Macamia, who soon became queen."
Emília remembered the names from the story. They were the same ones she had read when she took the test to become a librarian in Londrin.
"The union was solidified, and a grand wedding took place," Python continued. "To this day, the fairies say it was the most beautiful event in history. A few years later, the king and queen had a daughter named Lorota. Lorota was beautiful and sweet, and people said she was the most lovely young woman in the kingdom. But it didn't take long for the prophecy to come true, and that very same year, an age of darkness descended upon the kingdom."
Python paused to catch his breath before continuing the story.
"Famine, war, and destruction plagued Aleksandro's kingdoms, and he saw his territory in Londrin taken over by his brother, Rodolfo. Shortly after, Macamia died in his arms, and Lorota fell under a horrible spell. She became the first dragonborn to receive the dragon's magic. Aleksandro passed away, and every descendant from Queen Lorota onward possessed the ability to transform into dragons, in exchange for part of their lives. But…"
"But...?" Emília asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Only an elf can control the line between life and death," Python explained. "If a dragonborn uses too much of their power, death will haunt them while they're young. We elves have the ability to prolong the lives of dragonborn when a blood bond is formed during the marriage ceremony. Come to the ball tonight; we still have much to discuss."
"I think I heard someone!" a guard said, approaching quickly. Python vanished in an instant, and Emília fell to the ground.
"Emília!" Edward exclaimed, rushing toward her and waving the guard away. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you getting ready for the ball?"
"I'm not sure if I'll go," Emília replied, taking a deep breath after being freed from her restraints. "And what are you doing here?"
"One of the guards alerted me to a presence in the woods," Edward said, helping her up. "So I had to investigate to avoid any mishaps at the event. Shall we walk and talk for a bit?"
Emília nodded reluctantly. Their steps through the woods were slow, and silence reigned. Finally, they reached the same hill where they used to meet after Edward's expeditions.
"You heard everything that day, didn't you?" he asked, looking thoughtful. "I sensed your presence behind the door."
Emília blushed.
"I wasn't eavesdropping…"
"I know you weren't. But listen, Emília," he turned to face her, "what I said about seeing you as a piece on the chessboard was merely a strategy to deal with Python."
So that was it. Even though he had declined the engagement to the elf, he cared about her. Emília let out a soft sigh.
"I'm not sure I can believe that, Your Majesty…"
"It's Edward, remember?"
"I think… 'Your Majesty' suits you better," Emília said, adjusting her hair. Edward's eyes widened, and she was sure she saw sadness in the reddish glint in them.
"Your hairpin… did you throw it away?"
Emília said nothing, turning to leave, her heart heavy.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for the ball," she said without looking back, missing the tears streaming down Edward's face.
The maid worked diligently to make Emília look her best. Her green eyes sparkled, despite the sadness within them. The long, white dress made her look like a bride, and her loose waves cascaded over her shoulders. Without her glasses, it was hard to see things far away, but she would manage without them until the end of the party. The carriage soon arrived, and Emília was on her way to the palace ballroom.
"I could've walked…" she thought, shaking her head. The maid had arranged everything, even hiring a carriage to take her the five hundred meters to the ballroom.
Python had promised to reveal more about the prophecy at the ball. Emília fidgeted with her hands, anxious as she thought about everything she'd learned about the elf's future with Edward. For a moment, she considered convincing Edward to accept the engagement with Python, but shook her head vigorously. Something stopped her from entertaining the thought.
When the carriage stopped, Emília carefully stepped down, wary of her delicate, fragile shoes that made walking difficult. She looked around but saw no one outside. Apparently, she had arrived late.
As she entered the ballroom, she heard murmurs ripple through the crowd. She looked toward the center of the event, wondering what caused the nobles to whisper among themselves. It was Python and Edward, dancing gracefully, as if the melody itself carried them.
Emília considered retreating to her room, but changed her mind when she noticed the nobles' eyes upon her. She couldn't turn back now.
She took a step forward but felt someone beside her.
"May I have this dance?"