Years turned into decades, and decades into centuries.

King Azraketh never stopped searching.

He attended royal summits, accepted invitations from neighboring kingdoms, and endured countless introductions arranged by hopeful nobles. Every meeting ended the same way—with a polite smile, a courteous farewell, and an empty feeling in his chest.

Then, one spring morning, a neighboring kingdom announced that its princess wished to seek the Dragon King's hand in marriage.

The castle bustled with preparations. Banners bearing the royal crest hung from the towers, servants hurried through polished halls, and the kitchens worked from dawn until long after sunset.

Azraketh expected another disappointment.

When the princess arrived, she descended from her gilded carriage draped in silk, jewels glittering around her neck. Behind her walked ladies-in-waiting, guards, attendants...

...and one young servant carrying a stack of travel chests.

She kept her head lowered, her simple dress dusty from the journey. Unlike the princess, she wore no jewelry, no expensive fabrics, and no perfume. A loose braid of dark hair rested over one shoulder as she quietly followed her mistress without drawing attention to herself.

The moment she stepped through the palace gates, Azraketh froze.

His dragon roared awake inside him.

For the first time in his life, he felt it.

An invisible thread pulled at his soul, warm and undeniable. His heart thundered against his ribs, his senses sharpened, and every instinct screamed the same word.

Mate.