The heavy doors of the chamber opened slowly, and Kiki stepped forward, his posture rigid, eyes scanning the crowd gathered in the great hall. Behind him, the servants moved in careful procession, carrying Lyra, her form hidden beneath a simple white cloak.
Whispers rippled instantly through the hall, from the nobles standing in polished silence to the low-ranking attendants and common folk who had been allowed to watch from the balconies.
"Is that…?" one young servant whispered, elbowing his companion.
"Can it be? The girl? The one from the healer's village?" another replied, voice tinged with awe and uncertainty.
The murmurs grew, a ripple of confusion and disbelief running through the audience. No one dared step forward, but everyone leaned closer, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the girl whose presence defied centuries of tradition.
Kiki's voice cut through the growing noise. "Bring her forward. Slowly. Maintain order. Do not let her stumble."
Lyra's small figure emerged, her steps tentative, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Even under the heavy cloak, a quiet grace clung to her movements, though none of the crowd noticed it—not yet. All they could see was the audacity of Kael's decision: a low healer's daughter chosen as bride in a palace steeped in centuries of rigid custom.
From the galleries, a noble muttered to his neighbor. "This is… impossible. Has Kael lost his mind? How could he—?"
"An omen," a priest whispered, voice low but insistent, "the heavens must be warning us. This cannot be right. A girl like that… entering our halls as a bride?"
Servants exchanged nervous glances, unsure whether to step forward or stand frozen. Many began whispering among themselves, speculating, pointing discreetly, their curiosity tinged with fear of Kael's wrath if they spoke too openly.
At the throne, King Elric's gaze remained calm, unreadable. Lady Vaeloria, standing nearby, her posture stiff with anxiety, opened her mouth as if to speak, but Elric's hand lifted slightly to stop her.
"My lady," he said quietly, voice steady, "trust Kael. This is his decision. Whatever makes him happy, I am here to support him. That is all that matters."
Lady Vaeloria's lips pressed into a thin line, a mixture of worry and disbelief flickering across her face. "But… my king," she began, voice tight, "this—this is not tradition. The people… they will not understand. They will see this as a mistake, a breaking of centuries of law and custom. And Kael…" She shook her head, her hands clenching at her sides. "How can you… allow this?"
Elric's expression remained calm, almost resolute. "I am not here to stop Kael. He has grown into the ruler he must be. My place is to support him, even when I do not fully understand his choices. This girl… whatever the reasoning, Kael sees something I do not. Trust him, Lady Vaeloria. That is all I ask."
The hall remained tense. Eyes followed Lyra as she walked slowly toward the dais, her head lowered, small hands still clasped. Courtiers whispered urgently, fingers pointed discreetly. The low-born citizens in the galleries muttered, eyes wide with surprise and skepticism. Many whispered that this was a sign, a dangerous omen for the palace.
Kiki walked steadily behind Lyra, keeping a careful watch on her, ensuring no one disrupted the procession. His jaw was tight, shoulders squared, but his eyes betrayed a shadow of concern. The girl was unaware of the whispers, unaware of the judgment, focused only on the path before her.
When they reached the center of the hall, Kael stood, silently observing. His eyes briefly met Lyra's, but his expression betrayed nothing—reserved, controlled, distant. The crowd held its collective breath, the tension so thick it felt almost tangible.
Lady Vaeloria's voice was barely audible, trembling with worry. "My king… Kael… I… I do not understand… how this can be allowed."
Elric's hand rested lightly on her shoulder. "I know, my lady. But Kael is my son. Whatever path he chooses, I am here. For him. Support him, and trust him. That is all we can do."
Lyra, standing small and vulnerable on the dais, could feel the heavy weight of the hall's attention, though she could not see their faces clearly. She didn't notice the awe, the fear, or the anger. All she sensed was the monumental scale of what was happening, the unspoken judgment pressing on every side.
The bells of the palace began to ring, low and sonorous, echoing through the valleys and streets beyond. One clang, then another, then a third, each strike heavier than the last, carrying across the kingdom as though announcing a moment no one had ever dared imagine. The horns were lifted, voices deep and commanding, their call sharp, summoning the citizens to the courtyards and plazas to witness what was happening inside the palace walls.
Kiki moved quickly, the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders. He walked with precision, careful not to stumble, leading Kael through the corridors toward the great hall. Kael's stride was measured, his cloak trailing behind him, the subtle shimmer of his scales barely visible under the sunlight streaming through the open windows. Whispers of awe and fear spread through the palace attendants as they recognized the dragon king approaching.
Outside, in the plazas, citizens crowded together, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of their monarch. Noble families leaned from balconies, common folk pressed along the streets. All had heard of the unusual command—Kael's bride chosen from outside the palace, a girl no one knew. The unusualness, the shock, had drawn every eye and ear.
Lady Vaeloria did not move from her private chambers. She sat stiffly at the edge of her bed, hands trembling, tears streaming down her face. Her chest heaved with silent sobs as she stared at the empty wall before her, trying to accept what was unfolding outside. She could hear the distant ringing of the bells and the faint blast of horns. Her heart ached at the thought of the palace, her son, and the girl who had taken her son's attention.
"No… no, I cannot," she whispered to herself, voice tight with disbelief. "This… this isn't right. My son… my Kael…" She buried her face in her hands, shaking slightly, the weight of centuries of tradition and love for her son pressing on her. "I cannot witness this… not like this."
Back in the hall, Kael stepped forward, and the crowd immediately fell into a hushed awe. The sound of his arrival—a low rumble mixed with the clatter of his claws against the stone—made the citizens bow instinctively, fear and reverence mixing in their motions.
Kiki stayed close, hands steady, but his eyes flicked between Kael and Lyra. He could see the restrained anxiety in her posture, the way she held her hands tightly before her, her eyes shaded with uncertainty. Unlike the crowd, she did not bow, did not flinch at Kael's presence, her gaze focused but calm, almost unreadable.
Murmurs spread through the gathered citizens.
"By the gods… it's him—the dragon king himself…"
"Why… why is he bringing her out?"
"This… this is history. No one has ever seen a bride brought before the kingdom by the king himself. Never!"
Kiki's voice was quiet, but firm, as he guided Kael to the center of the hall. "Step here, my lord. The people are ready. The courtyards are filled."
Kael's eyes swept over the crowd, a flicker of detachment in his gaze. "Do they understand?" he asked, voice low, almost to himself.
"They will follow as they must, my lord," Kiki replied carefully. "But many will murmur. Some may bow in fear. Others will question. Lady Vaeloria… she is… she cannot watch this. She remains in her chambers."
Kael's jaw tightened slightly. "I do not need her here. Let them see what must be done."
Lyra's presence, cloaked and humble, drew more whispers. Citizens craned forward, trying to glimpse her face, trying to understand the audacity of Kael's decision. Noble ladies whispered behind fans, servants exchanged quiet disbelief, and children peeked around adults, wide-eyed.
"Can… can this be the girl?" one noble muttered, shaking his head. "No… it cannot be right…"
"Stop staring," another hissed sharply, "you'll anger him."
Kiki's hand remained near Kael, guiding him gently but firmly to the dais. The crowd collectively bowed in fear and respect as Kael reached the center. The horns blared again, and the bells tolled once more, marking the beginning of what no one in the kingdom would forget.
Lyra, standing a few steps behind, shaded her eyes slightly from the sun. She did not bow, she did not cry, she did not flinch. Her lips pressed together, her shoulders squared just enough to keep her posture calm. The murmurs of judgment and disbelief washed over her like water, yet she remained still, careful, watching.
From the far side, servants whispered, "Look… the king chose her. He allowed this. But… is this really wise?"
Even the noble council, perched high on the dais, leaned forward in cautious curiosity, seeing the girl, noting the reactions of the crowd, the whispers, and the audible shock. They saw not her beauty yet—they only saw the challenge of centuries of tradition being upended in a single act.
Kael's eyes softened, briefly, toward Lyra. A subtle nod, almost imperceptible, gave her the signal to move forward. Her steps were measured, careful, yet dignified. She stayed close enough to Kael to be guided, far enough to maintain her own space.
The crowd continued to whisper, fear and fascination rippling outward.
King Elric remained silent at his place, standing behind Lady Vaeloria's empty space in the hall, his gaze steady. He did not question Kael, did not intervene. Instead, his voice, quiet but firm, carried toward the empty side of the hall where Vaeloria would have been:
"Trust him, my lady," he said softly, though she could not hear him now. "I am here to support him. Whatever brings him peace, whatever he chooses… that is all that matters."
The bells tolled again, the horns blew, and the kingdom watched. Some bowed, some whispered, some hid their astonishment behind their hands. All eyes were on the impossible—a dragon king standing before the people, a girl from nowhere at his side, the first time such a scene had unfolded in the history of the kingdom.