Chapter 97: Lavish Nightmare III
The maiden snorted and made her way toward her small red Griffin. "You kept calling yourself Reneira D’Orient. Wrote all sorts of things down, then suddenly locked them in your chest. Don’t you remember that?"
A chill skittered down the princess’s spine. Reneira D’Orient. How could she have claimed such a name?
The D’Orient family was a royal line from the human realm, one that hadn’t birthed a daughter since the death of Princess Seraphina. The princess had read the records herself. That bloodline was sealed in tragedy. The fact was undeniable in their case.
She cast a glance back toward the hill where the black Dracon still stood, silent and unmoving. He hadn’t left. He wasn’t lying. That much, at least, was clear.
"I’m sorry, my dear," she murmured. She pressed hard, trying to drag memories from the fog, but her mind remained blank. And she couldn’t trust that big giant too.
They flew back to the mansion under a dusky sky, and she released Finna to enjoy her evening hunt. But the Dracon... remained on the hill, watching.
After dinner, she slipped quietly into her chambers. The room felt colder than usual, although the fire still burned. She moved to her desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out the silver chest where she kept her most important things. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked it.
Inside, there was a notebook, nestled beneath folded letters and worn parchment.
She opened it and stilled like a frozen blade. The first sentence was scrawled in her own hand, stark and urgent: