The captain of the imperial palace guard saluted the poised and imperious princess:
"Princess Seraphina, Lord Lian is waiting for your report."
The imperial princess was mildly surprised. "Lord Lian considers this matter so pressing?"
As a rule, Lord Lian never summoned the children the moment they returned from a mission.
Toward them, the true dragon had always been remarkably lenient, and her assignments were issued more as requests than commands.
That she had been called before Seraphina even had time to rest, the moment she set foot back in the imperial capital, spoke volumes about how seriously Lian regarded this alliance mission.
As it happened, the demi-divine princess had already intended to go directly and pay her respects. Knowing that Lord Lian held her mission in such high regard genuinely lifted her spirits.
She hadn't even had time to change her clothes. Seraphina strode briskly across the suspended walkways toward the sanctuary at the rear of the palace.
That place had once been where generations of the imperial family offered prayers and sacrifices to their guardian Fae. After the Fae's fall into dragonhood, it had become Lian's dwelling as naturally as if it had always been so.
Unless called away by other matters, Lian was almost always there.
Ascending the hundred-meter staircase of white jade, Seraphina had not yet reached the sanctuary's entrance when she heard the choir, a clear and crystalline sound rising from the voices of many children singing in unison, so pure it seemed to wash the soul clean.
Lian was fond of children's voices, and so the Second Empire maintained a dedicated choir that took turns singing near the true dragon's residence.
Carried along by those young voices, Seraphina finally stepped into the sanctuary that had once enshrined the imperial family's venerated Fae.
Sanctuary it may have been called, but it had long since been transformed into a bedchamber. Carpets woven with intricate patterns spread wall to wall across the floor, breathing out warmth.
Peculiar furniture of every description cluttered the space, none of it particularly valuable, all of it strange, alongside discarded fruit rinds, empty snack wrappers, and spent wine bottles.
Judging by its appearance alone, the room defied any association with solemnity.
Seraphina paid none of it any mind. She removed her tall boots, peeled away the translucent white silk stockings, and walked barefoot across the carpet, holding her breath, advancing with careful, measured steps.
Until she saw the low tea table by the window, and beside it, the silhouette reclining against the sill, pouring wine for herself, unhurried and at ease.
Historical accounts of dragons, so the legends went, always spared no effort in depicting what manner of catastrophic terror they were.
A dragon's wingspan could blot out the sky. A dragon's breath could scorch the earth to ash. A dragon's roar could shatter the ground itself. None of that was wrong, precisely, yet a true dragon was far more than that single form.
A dragon was by no means some unspeakable, incomprehensible entity. In truth, a dragon not fully manifesting its power was hardly distinguishable from a child of humanity, and by human standards of beauty, a dragon's allure was simply beyond measure.
Soft azure hair was gathered into a high ponytail at the back of the head, the remaining strands cascading down like a waterfall all the way to the carpet below.
A loose moon-white robe and inner garment, unadorned as they were, did nothing to diminish the breathtaking, flawless radiance that was Lian. A dragon's tail slipped out from beneath the hem of the robe, swaying with languid ease.
Seraphina did not dare study Lord Lian's face too closely, but the imperial princess would have staked her life on the certainty that it was a face of near-perfect beauty, as though every ideal of loveliness the human mind could conceive had here been gathered and made real.
"Seraphina, you've returned."
Lian's voice drifted over, soft as a clear spring winding through mountain stones.
Seraphina immediately dropped to one knee, pressing a hand to her chest. "I have. The mission you entrusted to me is complete, and I am ready to give my full report."
This same princess who had maintained her haughty composure before Faust now seemed almost alarming in her deference.
"No need to be so stiff, child. Come closer. Do you think I'm going to eat you?"
"Of course not!"
Seraphina answered at once, stepping forward one pace at a time until she stood before the low table.
Eat her? Far from it. In Seraphina's heart, Lian was nothing less than the sun itself.
The imperial princess had no knowledge of what the fearsome dragons of ancient legend had truly been, but for this Fae who had guarded the Radiant Dynasty across eight hundred years, she felt nothing but gratitude. Gratitude was the only word that could begin to encompass it.
As a Fae, Lian had always strived to the fullest extent to serve humanity's wellbeing, and her blessings had never been confined to the empire's own people. Through grace and revelation, she had sheltered all living beings.
And after her transformation into a dragon, Lian had personally journeyed to the demon front lines, cleaving open a rift that severed the space between worlds with a single sweep of her hand, bringing an end to the nightmare that had plagued the empire for centuries and sparing millions from needless sacrifice.
No elder was more compassionate. No sovereign more selfless. No leader more worthy of the name.
Seraphina believed this without reservation, and she had always said so without reservation.
"Our guardian, savior of humanity, the empire's true sovereign: please forgive my presumption."
The imperial princess drew a slow breath before she lifted her head.
Lian turned toward her with a look of mild exasperation. The true dragon's eyes gleamed like gemstones, impossible to describe in a single color, much like Seraphina's own, a blending of cerulean blue and deep violet flame.
Or more precisely, it was Seraphina, as one of the dragon's chosen, who resembled Lian.
"I'm nowhere near as remarkable as you all make me out to be. 'Guardian,' 'savior,' all of that is terribly hollow."
Lian poured a cup of honey wine and held it out to Seraphina.
"I simply love you all. I love the children of humanity. That is the whole of it."
The imperial princess received the luminous jade cup with both hands and lifted her gaze to the empire's true dragon.
Lian rested one hand beneath her porcelain chin, and with the other raised her wine cup toward the window.
This was the highest point in the imperial capital, with an unobstructed view that took in the whole of the vast, magnificent city spread below.
Beneath the dark vault of the sky, the glittering imperial capital blazed like a city that knew no night, its prosperity untouched even by the empire's civil war.
Untouched was putting it mildly. In truth, the war had made no difference at all.
The instant Lian's fall into dragonhood was complete, the capital had been taken without a drop of blood spilled, and the fires of the subsequent conflict had never reached the heart of the realm where the true dragon kept watch.
Lian's gaze could take in the lives of the capital's millions in their entirety, and those beautiful eyes, with their draconic slitted pupils, now reflected the glow of ten thousand scattered lights.
She sipped slowly, in small measures, and sighed.
"The children of humanity, how endearing you all are. No matter how long I look, it is never enough.
And yet you are so terribly fragile: born at dawn and gone by dusk, as though in a single moment of inattention you have turned to earth and dust and left me behind."
Seraphina offered her loyalty at once. "That is precisely why we, your chosen, exist. We will follow you to the ends of the earth and the end of time itself."
"Good child."
Lian smiled at that and patted her own snow-white thigh.
"Seraphina, come here and let me hold you."
"I wouldn't dare..."
The imperial princess did not move a muscle. She kept her eyes lowered and her head bowed, her slender frame trembling almost imperceptibly.
Formidable as she had become, a Radiant Sovereign of great power, she still could not override the fear that was written into the marrow of her bones.
This was the curse the dragon had once inscribed upon the whole of the world: that the children of humanity were meant to fear dragons, to despise them, and though the mind might awaken, the body remained bound.
The azure-haired dragon woman saw this, and the light in her eyes dimmed. She could only shake her head.
"Very well. Then tell me about your journey instead."