"What—do you… why? I—I mean—" he stuttered. The quietness swallowed his words. He looked horrified and deeply concerned. I was still bleeding. Drop by drop, my blood kissed the floor, blooming into crimson flower-patterns on the soft layer of white snow. Whispers followed. None of them had expected this.
I sighed and set the goblet down.
"I see you have no idea what a blood oath is," I told him. Jiao handed me a handkerchief and helped me wrap my palm tightly, so the blood wouldn't seep through.
"Let me explain. A blood oath is taken by those who make a deal with us by drinking our blood. It gives us power over your body when certain conditions are met. Once you drink it, even your bloodline will be affected—your offspring, of course. All the vassals under the Draga royal family have done this. If that makes you uncomfortable—"
I reached for the goblet, ready to pour the blood out. He was clearly uneasy. But before I could touch it, he snatched it away—
and gulped it down.
This time, I was the one surprised. He lowered the goblet.
"It's sweet," he said, then frowned as sudden pain flashed across his face.
"It'll hurt for a minute. The blood needs to spread through your body to take hold," I told him. It wasn't that I withheld information—
I simply didn't think he would actually drink it.
His face contorted, and he gripped the edge of the table tightly. Still, he smiled.
"It's like that time I caught an eel with my bare hands," he muttered.
"Dragon blood comes with a little advantage. If you get non-fatal skin wounds, they'll heal immediately. But it can't regenerate severed limbs, heal fatal wounds, internal injuries… or heartbreak."
I removed the bound handkerchief from my palm and showed him the freshly healed skin.
"I see," he whispered. It seemed the worst of it had passed.
"This has bound us," I told him, looking into his eyes.
"It certainly has," he replied—his voice low and unsettling.
After we signed the agreement, I took my copy and returned to the castle. We agreed to meet the next day inside the Capital's walls. I had a wedding to plan.
Winter was almost upon us. In the North, people believe winter marriages do not last. So, they hold weddings in any season except winter. That left me only a few days to prepare.
In the North, it is customary to marry at Mountain Serana's temple, before the statue of Armie, the goddess of everlasting love. I had sent a messenger ahead, requesting preparations for a ceremony. It would be simple, as Northern weddings always are—just the couple and the Priestess.
But I heard that in the South, weddings are the opposite: celebrations that stretch for weeks, crowded with people, music, food, dancing—almost like a festival.
I didn't know what he wanted, or if he planned to hold a Southern wedding at all. I would have to ask.
When I reached the castle, I handed the peace treaty to Salime. He said nothing, only examined it. I'd already heard the adults were unhappy about my decision to marry a Southerner. Of course they were.
"They have gunpowder," I reminded him.
"I know, my queen," he answered, lowering his eyes. "I hope you'll be happy… even if this marriage wasn't meant to be a happy one."
He bowed and left. I watched his broad shoulders and fur-lined coat disappear down the hall, and it pulled my thoughts back to Arvid earlier that afternoon.
One was my first love.
The other would become the man who claimed me.
He drank my blood.
He could never betray me now.
Draga would be safe.
And I would show exactly how dragon blood works when I met that foolish Southern border lord who had opened the bridge for them.
He better pray he's an illegitimate child with no ancestral blood—because if he isn't, he's in for a world of pain. Rage simmered in me. I would send him into a living hell.
That night, I spent time with my maids, packing my wardrobe and essentials. Then came the hardest decision—telling them none of them would follow me South.
They had families here. Everything they knew was here.
Arissa planned to marry next spring.
Ela was already married with two sons.
Ranee was in love with Gerald, Salime's right-hand man.
Dragging them away would be cruel.
They cried and protested, but I didn't waver.
"You're leaving everything you love too. You love Draga more than anyone, yet you're leaving…" my heart whispered.
I silenced her.
After sending my maids home, I went to visit my family—where they slept. It was already night, but I placed lamps around so it wouldn't be dark for them.
We royals are cursed. Yes, our wounds heal quickly because of the dragon blood in our veins. But heartbreak… heartbreak is deadly for us.
My mother's heart shattered when my brother was killed. She saw his severed head and collapsed. She held on only through sheer will—for me and my father. But ten years was her limit.
My father didn't last much longer. His heart refused to live in a world without her.
Although we don't encourage inbreeding, sometimes there is no choice. My mother was a distant cousin of my father—she also carried dragon blood. And at the wedding ceremony, couples vow to become one, sharing two bodies. If they truly love each other, that bond becomes real. Even if someone does not have dragon blood, they drink it at the ceremony, and it binds them.
Since my husband-to-be already had it, he only had to complete the ritual.
"I'm leaving, Mother… Father… and dear brother," I whispered to them.