​The morning sun over the Kingdom of Lorendo was a beautiful lie.

​It draped the golden spires of the royal palace in a warmth that never seemed to reach the interior. While the rest of the capital woke to the sounds of trumpets and the bustling of the royal court, Prince Luca woke to silence. At eighteen years old, Luca was a ghost in his own home, a tall, sharp-eyed young man who lived in the narrow space between a royal title and a commoner’s blood.

​He stood by the tall, arched window of his manor, his breath fogging the glass. Outside, the royal lake shimmered like a sheet of fallen coins, its surface disturbed only by the occasional swan. To the visiting lords, this was a paradise. To Luca, it was a gilded cage where the guards didn’t carry keys, they carried a cold, practiced indifference.

​Luca pressed his forehead against the cool stone of the window frame. He was the "bastard son," a word that tasted like ash in the mouths of the court. His mother had been a servant, a woman of no status whose only crime was being noticed by a King who took what he wanted. She was gone now, a memory Luca held onto like a drowning man holding a splinter of wood. He often wondered if the lake outside was as cold as the blood running through his father’s veins.

​A sudden, frantic thudding of boots echoed in the stone hallway, breaking the morning’s stillness. Luca didn't need to turn to know who it was. There was only one person in this palace who ran toward him rather than walking away.

​The heavy oak doors burst open, and Liam scrambled inside. His tunic was dishevelled, and his face was flushed a deep red. Liam was the only soul in the palace who didn't look at Luca with pity or disgust. To Liam, Luca wasn't a scandal; he was a friend.

​“Your Highness!” Liam gasped, leaning his weight against the doorframe. His chest heaved as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. “I’ve found it. I’ve finally found the spark in the dark.”

​Luca turned, his eyes, usually dull with the boredom of a prisoner, igniting with a sudden, predatory hunger. He moved toward his friend, his footsteps silent on the rug. “The mountain?”

​Liam nodded, checking the hallway behind him before clicking the heavy door shut. He lowered his voice until it was a mere thread of sound, a secret meant only for the shadows. “The rumours aren't just whispers from the laundry maids anymore, My Lord. I went to the lower town last night. I sat in the corners of the taverns where the old men drink to forget the King’s taxes. They speak of a cave, a void in the Great Peak that the sun never touches.”

​Luca’s pulse quickened, a drumbeat of rebellion in his ears. “And the creature? Is the legend real?”

​Liam’s hands began to shake, and he tucked them into his sleeves to hide the tremor. “A dragon, My Lord. A beast of scales and ancient shadow. They say it was sealed away eighteen years ago. They described a battle that lasted three days, where the royal army was nearly turned to cinders. They say the King himself led the charge to chain it, but the elders… they tell a different story. They say the King didn't fight the beast. He hid from it.”

​Eighteen years ago. The date struck Luca like a physical blow to the chest. He turned back to the window, his gaze fixing on the jagged, snow-capped peaks that pierced the horizon.

​“Eighteen years,” Luca repeated, his voice bitter and low. “The year of my birth. The year the King’s ‘great shame’ began. Everything in this kingdom is connected to that year, Liam. My mother's disappearance, my father’s hatred for me, and now this beast in the mountain.”

​“It is a royal secret, Your Highness,” Liam added, stepping closer. “The King has executed men for less than speaking its name. He wants the world to believe the dragon is dead, or that it never existed at all.”

​Luca clenched his fists. He pictured his father, King Edward, sitting on his throne of cold gold. He pictured the way the King’s eyes always looked through him, as if Luca were nothing more than a stain on the carpet.

​“He thought he could keep this from me,” Luca said, a determined smile cutting across his face. It wasn't a happy smile; it was the smile of a man who had just found a weapon. “He thinks because he keeps me locked in this manor that I am blind. He doesn't realize that a caged bird spends all its time watching the shadow of the hawk.”

​“What are we going to do?” Liam asked, his eyes wide with a mixture of loyalty and pure, unadulterated terror. “If we are caught asking about the mountain, the King won't just lock us away. He’ll end us.”

​Luca looked at his friend, then back at the jagged peaks. The curiosity that had been a small, cold flame inside him for years had just become a forest fire.

​“We are going to find the truth, Liam. We are going to find out what happened eighteen years ago. Even if we have to burn this palace down to see the light.”