Starting out as a Dragon Slave-Chapter 72: Arrival at the ceremony

The dragon princess reappeared shortly afterwards, opening the door with undeniable grace but instantly imposing an overwhelming presence. Her violet gaze fell on Mordred, quickly appraising his appearance with a coldly satisfied look.

- Good," she said in a calm but imperious voice. Let’s go, my dear toy. It’s time for you to discover the true extent of dragon power and glory.

She beckoned him to follow her, and Mordred complied silently, carefully masking his emotions beneath a cold, impenetrable façade. As they strolled through the palace’s sumptuous corridors, he was immediately struck by the luxurious excess of the premises.

The walls, built of black marble veined with gold, seemed to pulsate subtly with an almost tangible magic, lit by spectral blue torches, floating in the air without any visible support. High windows of pure crystal diffused a soft golden glow, accentuating the magnificence of intricate frescoes depicting the glory and warlike history of dragons. Scenes of battles, magical triumphs and tributes to royal lineages stretched as far as the eye could see, proudly recounting their crushing domination over subjugated peoples.

Huge crystal candlesticks engraved with ancient runes hung from the high vaulted ceilings, diffusing a light that made the precious armors and weapons displayed on the walls glow with an eerie brilliance. Mordred even noticed a few suits of armor that had belonged to other defeated species, displayed like macabre trophies. The sight reinforced his bitterness and profound disgust towards those he now had to deal with.

- It’s impressive, isn’t it?" the princess murmured softly with a hint of pride in her voice, noticing his observant gaze. This is the power of dragons, my dear toy. All this is the direct manifestation of our magic, of our unquestionable superiority over other species.

- Impressive, certainly," Mordred replied coldly, without looking at her. But all this wealth doesn’t disguise the cruelty on which it’s built.

The princess smiled coldly, almost amused by his reply:

- Cruelty, greatness... it all depends on your point of view. For us, it’s simply the natural order of the world.

They finally arrived at an immense door carved in dark wood, decorated with intertwined dragons spitting flames of pure gold. The door slowly opened before them, revealing a gigantic, resplendent hall. Immediately, a trumpet sounded solemnly, attracting the attention of all present.

A herald, dressed in a crimson and gold tunic, raised his voice with force and authority:

- Make way and welcome Her Highness, Princess Elystria of the Burning Fangs, accompanied by her personal toy, Mordred!

Mordred clenched his teeth discreetly at this humiliating announcement, as all eyes instantly converged on them, staring at him with curiosity, jealousy or contempt. Elystria advanced slowly, erect and proud, as if indifferent to the stares. Mordred followed in silence, aware that he had instantly become the attraction of the evening.

He discreetly swept his gaze around the room, amazed by the incredible diversity of "toys" accompanying the noble dragons. Very few humans were present; in their place, other species of supernatural beauty or exotic strangeness were everywhere. Beings with hair as bright as the moon, creatures with skin like crystal, and even winged beings with multicolored feathers. Mordred immediately understood that to be chosen by a dragon meant not only being a precious object, but also a mark of prestige in the eyes of others.

The princess began to move with ease among the guests, exchanging greetings and polite smiles with the most important ones. With each encounter, she explained the subtleties of dragon hierarchy to Mordred in a low voice:

- Look carefully, Mordred. Hierarchy is essential here. In addition to the royal family, to which I belong, there are five great noble families, very influential and powerful, directly under our orders.

She discreetly pointed to a particularly imposing group of humanoid dragons dressed in rich red and black fabrics:

- You surely recognize Belgaroth. His family is one of the five major lineages, the House of Obsidian. They possess fire magic in its most destructive form. Fearsome in battle, they are highly respected... and feared.

Mordred clenched his fists as he saw Belgaroth in the distance, a cruel sneer on his lips, strutting arrogantly. Elystria, sensing his tension, smiled gently and continued:

- Next to them, you have the House of Azure. Their magic controls oceans and storms. To their right is the House of Sylvester, which manipulates plant life, highly skilled at creating and destroying entire environments in the blink of an eye. Then there’s the Spectral House, masters of illusion and the dark arts. And finally, the House of Lumina, whose light magic can heal as well as destroy, burning enemies to the bone.

- And below these great families?" asked Mordred coldly, trying to contain his contempt.

- Below them, there are the minor nobles," she explained with a hint of indifference in her voice. They’re numerous, but far less influential. Their magical powers are often weak or specialized in menial tasks. And at the lowest level, you find the ordinary folk, almost devoid of significant magic, generally assigned to manual labor or slave management, as in the mines.

- Like those who mercilessly slaughter helpless slaves," Mordred retorted dryly, his tone clearly accusatory.

She slowly turned her face towards him, her gaze turning icy, almost menacing:

- I understand your anger, Mordred, but remember your place. Never let yourself make such bold comments in front of other dragons. I may be indulgent, but they... they certainly won’t be.

Mordred remained silent, but his eyes burned with an icy, determined fire. And so they went on, Elystria greeting nobles and courtiers with regal grace, presenting Mordred as her most prized possession while subtly playing her seductive game, occasionally brushing his arm or whispering provocative words that aroused the envy and jealousy of the other guests.

Inwardly, Mordred bubbled with anger, repulsion and grim determination, aware that every gaze upon him judged him as an object, a mere property of this alluring but terribly dangerous princess.

Princess Elystria slowly made her way among the guests, passing from the most powerful nobles to those of lesser importance, giving each one a polite but distant smile, her greetings tinged with cold courtesy.

Mordred followed her half-heartedly, his face closed, but his gaze constantly sweeping the room, attentive to every detail, every face, every gesture. The atmosphere of the ceremony was heavy, saturated with subtle magic, but above all dominated by the sense of the dragons’ overwhelming power.

As Elystria exchanged a few words with a modestly dressed noble family, Mordred suddenly felt his gaze drawn in spite of himself to a more distant corner of the hall, where Belgaroth held a court of admirers, an arrogant and cruel smile on his finely sculpted face.

But it wasn’t Belgaroth himself who immediately drew Mordred’s full attention. It was the female figure standing right next to him, almost hidden by his massive build but suddenly revealed by a slight movement of the dragon. An icy wave of shock instantly passed through Mordred’s body.

Akane.

His heart missed a beat, his breath caught in his chest for a moment. There she was, only a few feet away, and yet she seemed almost unrecognizable. Her jet-black hair was pulled back in an elegant but sober style, revealing a face with delicate but tired features, marked by a new cold hardness. But what immediately grabbed Mordred was the presence of new scars, clearly visible, crossing the exposed skin of her shoulders bared by her sumptuous black dress. Long, thin, cruel marks, bearing witness to the suffering she’d endured since their last encounter.

Anger suddenly swelled in her chest, burning and uncontrollable, as she gazed at these scars. A cold hatred instantly anchored itself in her gaze, now focused on Belgaroth, who seemed to feel this intense gaze upon him. The dragon slowly turned his head towards Mordred, meeting his gaze directly with a scornful, almost provocative smile.

Time seemed to slow down at that very moment. Mordred felt every muscle in his body tense instinctively, his jaw contracting violently under the effort he was making to contain his rage.

- Is something wrong, Mordred?" Elystria murmured softly, noticing his sudden change of attitude, a subtle, interested smile on her lips.

- No, Princess," he replied coldly, forcing his gaze slowly back to hers. Everything’s perfectly fine.

But Elystria discreetly followed his previous glance and immediately noticed Akane beside Belgaroth, a strange gleam briefly crossing her violet eyes.

- Ah, I see," she murmured slowly, amused and intrigued at the same time. So your interest in this woman is more than just a preoccupation...

Mordred ignored the provocative remark, his gaze returning irresistibly to Akane. At that very moment, Akane turned her head slightly, as if she’d felt his burning gaze upon her. Their eyes met at last, and Mordred immediately saw Akane’s expression change radically.

Her brown eyes widened in surprise, then deep emotion, a fragile glimmer of hope crossing her usually closed face. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to whisper something, but no sound came out. Mordred felt his heart clench painfully as he watched this once proud and combative face express such poignant vulnerability.

Beside her, Belgaroth immediately followed Akane’s gaze and his smile became crueler, almost triumphant:

- He murmured aloud, enough for Mordred to guess his words despite the distance. Looks like your old companion is here tonight, Akane. What a delightful surprise, isn’t it?

Akane immediately looked away, quickly resuming her cold, impenetrable expression, but Mordred could clearly feel her distress and muted anger, contained beneath a fragile facade. He clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails lightly nicked the palms of his hands.

- What delicious tension," Elystria whispered softly in Mordred’s ear, clearly amused by this dramatic scene. Belgaroth loves to break his toys... but I guess you already knew that, didn’t you?

Mordred didn’t reply, his anger rendering him incapable of uttering a single word, contenting himself with giving Belgaroth a dark, murderous look. Belgaroth smiled slowly, almost amused by Mordred’s obvious rage, clearly enjoying this silent provocation.

- Don’t you dare do anything stupid, Mordred," Elystria murmured softly with cold authority. I can understand your anger, but don’t let your emotions condemn you forever. Belgaroth is cruel, but it’s also powerful and influential. Never forget your current position.

He closed his eyes briefly, regaining control of himself with difficulty, taking a deep breath to calm his fury.

- Fine," he finally replied coolly. But if I ever get the chance, Princess... believe me, Belgaroth will pay dearly for every scar inflicted on Akane.

Elystria smiled slowly, an intriguing gleam in her violet eyes, clearly excited by this violent promise:

- I don’t doubt it for a second, my dear Mordred. And it’s precisely this impetuous rage that I find so captivating about you...

Mordred ignored her comment, unable to turn his full attention away from Akane, who was now carefully avoiding his gaze. Every second spent in this room seemed interminable, constantly fighting the burning desire to cross the room and confront Belgaroth directly.

- Come, let’s continue our tour," Elystria finally said gently but firmly, placing her cold hand gently on his arm to compel him to turn away. We mustn’t monopolize all the attention.

Mordred reluctantly agreed, finally looking away with difficulty, but still feeling the icy intensity of Belgaroth’s gaze upon him.