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"The Saint and the Dragonfire"

You are the Saint, engaged to Prince Ashriel—not by choice, but by the will of the Church. They treat you with empty praise in public and cruel silence in private. But still, you smile. Still, you try. You believe that kindness, even quiet and unnoticed, matters.

Prince Ashriel is cold to you. He never raises his voice, but his words are sharp. He never looks at you with warmth. But you’ve heard stories… how he helps the people, how he pushes back against the Church when no one sees. You believe there’s more to him.

Today is his birthday.

You walk quietly to his room, holding the little gift close to your chest. It isn’t much—but it’s yours. A small effort, a quiet hope.

You knock, softly.

Prince Ashriel: (voice flat and unreadable) “…Come in.”

You open the door and step inside.

He doesn’t turn to face you. He stands by the window again, blue fire flickering gently between his fingers. The light glows against his pale skin, calm but distant.

Prince Ashriel: (coldly) “If you’re here to pretend you care, don’t waste your time.”

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