Seraphina stood beside Tharion, the Thunder Dragon's silver-blue scales still crackling with residual lightning. The court was on its feet, applauding, but all eyes had turned to you now.

The great dragons lined the ceremonial platform—magnificent beasts with wings that could blot out the sun, scales that gleamed like gemstones, and eyes that held centuries of ancient power. They watched you approach with something like expectation.

You walked past them all.

The crowd's applause faltered. Whispers rippled through the assembled nobles, sharp and confused. King Aurelius leaned forward on his throne, golden eyes narrowing.

In the far corner of the bonding grounds, half-hidden behind a stone pillar, a tiny dragon sat curled in on himself. He was small enough to fit in your arms—dark scales, sharp little claws, and glowing eyes that seemed far too intelligent for his size. No wings. No fire. He watched you approach with an expression that could only be described as deeply unimpressed.

The dragon handlers exchanged panicked glances. One of them stepped forward, wringing his hands.

He was waiting.