The Black Dragon’s Wife

“Wh-what…?”

Raivier estate turned into ice. 

The fire in the hearth had died hours ago, and there was no wood left to burn. 

Lyanna Raivier was inhaling heavily while standing next to an empty fireplace, tucking her hands inside her faded sleeves. 

She looked at Michael Grungen, the man she was supposed to marry in less than a month.

However, Michael didn’t look back at her. He was busy adjusting the rich silk cuffs of his new jacket. 

"You are not listening to me, Lyanna," Michael stated in a flat and bored voice.

"I am listening," Lyanna replied. Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to look at him. "You are saying the grain ships from the Grungen lands are delayed again. Michael, my people are eating boiled grass. My father is too weak to leave his bed. We do not have weeks. We need the food today."

Michael finally looked up. There was no pity in his eyes. 

"The grain ships are not delayed, Lyanna. They are never coming here."

Lyanna blinked way too many times and took a step toward him. 

"What do you mean? We signed the contract. Our engagement sealed the alliance. Your family promised to feed the Raivier lands in exchange for our ancient mining rights."

"We have the mining rights now," Michael pulled a piece of parchment from his coat and laid it on the dusty table. "Your father signed them over to me yesterday morning. He was too tired to read the fine print, I suppose."

"Michael, please," Lyanna hushed. She reached out to touch his arm, but he stepped back, avoiding her hand as if she were a beggar on the street. 

“Bu-but…”

“What but?”

"Tell me this is a cruel joke. We have been betrothed since we were children. You know how much my people are suffering."

"That is exactly why this is over," Michael crossed his arms. "The Raivier name is dead. Your lands are barren. A powerful man needs a wife who brings more power, not a wife who brings thousands of hungry mouths to feed. I am a Grungen. I cannot waste my wealth on a sinking ship."

The words felt like a physical blow. Lyanna felt the air leave her lungs. "You lied to us….You planned this. You waited until we were too weak to fight back."

"It is just business," Michael said with a shrug. "I have already spoken with the high council. Tomorrow, my engagement to Lady Clara will be announced. Her family actually has gold to offer."

"And what happens to us?" Lyanna asked. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but her eyes flared with a sudden, desperate anger. "What happens to my family? To my people?"

"The council has already found a use for you," Michael’s face formed a small, nasty smile that touched his lips. "You should be happy. You get to save your people after all. In a way."

"What did you do?" Lyanna demanded.

Before Michael could answer, a young human guard rushed in, his face looked white and covered in sweat. "My Lady! The council! They are outside with the royal guard! You must come quickly!"

Lyanna rushed past Michael, ignoring his smug face. 

She ran out of the manor and down the stone steps. A large crowd of her people was in the courtyard. 

They looked thin, their cheeks seemed sunken from months of hunger. Surrounding them were dozens of heavily armored soldiers from the human capital.

At the front of the soldiers was standing Elder Vance, the leader of the high council. He held a massive, black iron scroll in his hands. 

The metal was smoking…

"What is the meaning of this?" Lyanna shouted, stepping between the soldiers and her frightened people.

"Lyanna Raivier," Elder Vance called her name like she was trash. "The human kingdom is in great danger. Three days ago, a group of human thieves entered the northern borders and stole a sacred relic from the Black Dragon Clan. The dragons are furious. They have threatened to burn our entire kingdom to ash by the next full moon."

Lyanna shook her head. "What does that have to do with my family? We do not even have horses to ride to the border, let alone thieves."

"The dragons demand a price for the insult," Elder Vance continued, ignoring her words. "They demand a bride from a noble house to serve as a peace offering. A sacrifice to appease the wrath of Lord Zaden Drachen. The council has voted. The Raivier family will pay the debt for the kingdom."

"No!" an old man screamed from the crowd. "She is our Lady! You cannot give her to the monsters!"

"Silence!" Elder Vance roared. The soldiers drew their swords, pressing them against the chests of the starving villagers.

Lyanna looked at the swords. 

She looked at her people, who were too weak to even run away. Then she looked back at the top of the steps. 

Michael Grungen was smiling over there, watching the scene with his hands in his pockets. He had planned this. 

He had taken her family's wealth, stolen her future, and now he was using the council to throw her to the dragons so she could never seek revenge.

"If I go," Lyanna started, hearing her own voice ringing in her ears despite the fear in her heart. "If I accept this, will you leave my people alone? Will you send them the grain they were promised?"

Elder Vance nodded once. "The council will provide three months of food to the Raivier lands the moment you cross the northern border."

"Do not do it, My Lady!" the guard pleaded. "The Black Dragons do not keep human wives. They kill them. They eat them. You will not survive a single day in the Obsidian Citadel!"

Lyanna looked at the crying children in the crowd and glanced at her ruined home. She had nothing left to lose. 

Her heart was already broken, shattered by the man she had loved since childhood.

"I will go," Lyanna lifted her chin, her blue eyes locked onto Michael's distant glare. "Prepare the carriage. I will meet the Dragon Lord."