The Last Dragon Princess

Lya’s P.O.V.

That day, like every day before, I wake up screaming.

My heart slams violently against my ribs, frantic, and my skin is drenched in cold sweat. In my head, the echoes of my parents' screams, my brothers’ and sisters’ cries, still reverberate, tearing through my mind like invisible blades. Their voices intertwine—pleading, terrified, dying.

I hope, without much conviction, that they won’t haunt me until my last breath.

A soft knock at the door is followed by the quiet entrance of a young maid. She helps me get ready, silent, careful not to meet my gaze. But she doesn’t need words for me to understand what she feels.

Pity. Sorrow. Maybe even fear.

I catch a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye, her face frozen in a mask of forced neutrality. But her eyes betray her.

She sees what I’ve become—a shadow of myself.

My once silky white hair is now dull, lifeless. My blue eyes, which once reflected the light, are nothing more than cold, empty abysses.

Once I’m ready, I follow her through the castle corridors, my mind elsewhere.

After endless days of weeping, I have no more tears to shed. My grief has hardened into something cold. I have a plan. A goal.

I glance through the immense windows, and the contrast hits me like a punch to the gut.

The sun shines brightly, as if it dares to pretend that everything is fine. In the gardens, the servants bustle about, the animals graze peacefully.

Life goes on—ruthless, indifferent to my pain.

But so must I.

A painful squeeze tightens my chest when my gaze catches a familiar corner of the garden.

The swing. The iron-wrought table, with its delicately carved chairs.

I close my eyes, and despite myself, I hear my siblings’ laughter—soft, carefree, floating in the air like an echo of the past.

Mom loved this garden. She’d spend hours kneeling in the dirt, her hands covered in soil, tending to her roses with gentle devotion.

But all of that is nothing more than a memory now.

The Throne Room

When I step into the massive throne room, he rises immediately. His gaze locks onto mine—filled with hope, adoration… and madness.

A shudder of disgust crawls down my spine. Once, I considered him nothing more than a member of the court, a distant figure with no reason to even look my way.

At what point did my life take this tragic turn?

When did I become the prey of this man?

"Lya! You’re more beautiful than ever," he says with a smile.

His gaze sweeps over me, studying every feature of my face. I resist the urge to recoil.

I know what he’s doing.

Every day, he orders a small dose of poison to be administered to me— just enough to keep me weak, dependent.

My cheeks are too pale, my lips nearly bloodless, and dark shadows sink deep beneath my eyes. My sleepless nights burn behind my dry, aching gaze.

I shake my head and offer him a smile laced with irony and contempt.

"Get to the point, Liguen," I say dryly. "Let’s go through this pointless conversation one more time."

His expression barely shifts, but I catch the flicker of irritation in his eyes. He sighs.

"Why do you refuse to listen to reason, Lya?"

I let the silence stretch, heavy, before I answer—my voice sharp as a blade.

"Oh, let me think... Maybe because you had my parents, my brothers, and my sisters executed?"

He dismisses my accusation with a wave of his hand—as if their massacre was nothing more than an insignificant detail. As if their deaths were as weightless as a sigh on the wind.

A brutal rage surges through me. I want to kill him. Right here. Right now. I want to see his expression freeze in shock, his eyes dim, his final breath dissolve into silence.

I can’t hide my murderous intent. He sees it.

And it amuses him. A smug smile tugs at his lips. He thinks he’s won.

He doesn’t realize… I am not a victim.

I am a survivor.

"You want to kill me, Lya?" His smirk widens, voice thick with perverse satisfaction. "Do you want me to lie and tell you that I regret it?"

I glare at him, my gaze searing with hatred. He’s toying with me, like a predator certain of his victory. But he knows nothing.

"Why ask me questions?" I narrow my eyes, hiding the icy shiver running through me. "You already know the answers. You poison me because you fear me."

His grin stretches, amused.

"Fear you?"

He steps forward, each footstep echoing like a death knell.

My instincts scream at me to move back. But I force myself to stay still. I can’t show him weakness. I’ve fought against the poison for this moment.

"Why would I fear the woman I love?" he murmurs sickeningly.

He reaches out and grabs a strand of my hair, lifting it slowly to his lips, his dark gaze never leaving mine. A shudder of revulsion rips through me, my stomach twisting in disgust.

My self-control teeters dangerously.

"The world as you knew it is gone, Lya," he continues, as if this revelation could break me further. "Why refuse to accept mine?"

He caresses my cheek with his fingers. I freeze.

"You will be my sun and my moon. You will be everything to me."

I let the silence hang heavy, suffocating. Then, I answer, my voice razor-sharp.

"I just want to see you dead."

I shove him away.

He laughs.

That smug, arrogant laugh, convinced that I’m broken, submissive, incapable of escaping him.

He’s wrong.

In a fluid motion, a dagger appears in my hand. A blade black as the abyss, shimmering with my pain and fury.

Liguen’s laughter dies in his throat. Shock flickers in his gaze.

"Is that really what you want?" His voice hardens. "You know I don’t want to kill you."

He sidesteps slightly, like a predator evaluating his prey.

"But that won’t stop me from breaking you, Lya."

I tighten my grip on the dagger, my knuckles turning white.

"I don’t care about the consequences." My breath is short, ragged, but my resolve is unshaken.

"I will never marry you, Liguen. I hate you. And nothing will ever change that."

I lunge at him.

He’s fast—faster than me. His iron grip locks around my wrist, trying to disarm me.

But I expected that.

Pivoting sharply, I slam my elbow into his face. He staggers, growling, his grip loosening slightly.

I wrench my arm free and slash downward— slicing deep into his hand. He roars in pain.

I take my chance. I strike again, aiming for his heart.

But he dodges at the last second, and instead of piercing his chest, the blade buries itself deep into his side.

Liguen collapses to the ground, his breath caught, the dagger lodged in his body. I stand over him, my heart pounding so hard it threatens to shatter my ribs.

"I’d love to kill you, Liguen. Really, I would."

I lean in slightly, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"But I know I can’t... not yet. And I’m not ready to die just yet."

His gaze burns into me, a mix of rage and disbelief.

"I hope you enjoy your new world... without me."

I straighten up and turn away. Behind me, his furious scream rips through the silence.

"STOP HER!"

But no one moves.

Liguen hasn’t fully seized power yet. He rules over ashes—no crown, no support.

No one here wanted his coup. No one wanted my father dead. So no one listens. No one stops me.

I push through the castle doors and run without looking back.

The crisp air burns my throat as it fills my lungs, but I don’t care. I have to escape. I have to survive. It takes me a moment to get my bearings.

The Forest of Oblivion.

It’s my only chance.

I dash across the landscape, the sounds of the castle fading behind me.

Then—shouts. I stiffen. He’s managed to rally some men.

But I don’t stop.

Pain racks my body. My breaths come in short, ragged gasps. The poison drains my strength with every step. Only my willpower keeps me moving. I plunge into the forest, weaving through the trees, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

I won’t fall here.

I won’t die today.

The forest is treacherous—cold, suffocating.

Even in daylight, its darkness devours the light, letting through only a few hesitant rays between thick leaves.

No birdsong, no rustling wind. The silence feels like a grave.

Every step, the soft earth threatens to betray me.

Sly roots rise up to snare my feet. Low-hanging branches lash at my skin, emerging from the shadows at the last moment.

My breath is shallow. My vision blurs, exhaustion and poison slowing my limbs. But I keep moving.

Then—after what feels like an eternity—I see it.

The clearing.

It stands before me—an island of light in the heart of the darkness.

At its center, a portal shimmers in the air, wavering slightly, like iridescent mist swirling between two worlds. My only way out.

Through it, I’ll leave this cursed kingdom.

I’ll disappear.

I can’t choose where I’ll end up, but anywhere is better than here. I’m sure of it.

So… why can’t I move?

My legs freeze. My heart hammers painfully in my chest, caught between fear and something deeper, something even heavier.

This kingdom is my home.

I was born here. I grew up here.

I laughed here. I played here. I loved here.

I cried here.

And now… I have to leave.

A shiver runs through me. Then—a warmth, gentle and comforting, like an invisible embrace.

"Because you must live, my love."

"Because you must be happy."

"Wherever you go, we will always be with you."

The voices surround me, carried by the wind… or maybe by the forest itself.

My parents. My brothers. My sisters. Their whispers are everywhere. Everywhere and nowhere at the same time. As if they are part of this place—of these trees, this earth.

A trembling smile stretches across my lips. They’re right. Wherever I go, they will be with me.

The shouts behind me grow closer, shattering the brief moment of peace.

"LYA!"

Liguen’s roar splits the air—raw with rage and possession. My body reacts before my mind.

I rush toward the portal, activating the spell with my magic. The air crackles, the vortex flares to life.

But I can’t take any risks. My hands tremble as I alter the spell’s structure, severing its anchor. No one will be able to follow me.

"LYA!"

I turn, breathless.

He’s there.

Standing at the edge of the clearing, his blood staining his richly embroidered clothes. His face is a storm of emotions—fury and worry colliding, contradictions he doesn’t even try to hide.

I meet his gaze, and this time… I’m the one who smiles. A triumphant smile. A smile that seals his defeat.

"NO!"

His roar—furious, desperate— is the last thing I hear before I throw myself into the vortex.

And vanish.