"Yes, I am Caspian from the Spires."
Caspian stood tall by the stone fireplace, his chin lifted, making no apologies for the bloodline that flowed through his newly mortal veins.
For a long, suspended moment, the grand parlor was completely silent. The crackle of the hearth fire was the only sound daring to interrupt the profound shock gripping the visiting dignitaries.
Then, Lyra slowly sank back onto the plush velvet cushions of her chair. The fierce dragoness's crimson-scaled brow smoothed out, and a slow, incredibly knowing half-smile curled her lips.
Beside her, Mara let out a low, breathy chuckle, exchanging a swift, highly communicative glance with Lyra. Even Regent Titus, despite his initial rigid shock, found the heavy, imposing set of his jaw relaxing into a faint, amused smirk.
