First Chosen by the Dragon (Evelyn) novel Chapter 73

[Cassandra’s POV]

The great hall reeks of politics and pretense. I watch Lord Corwin present another precedent from the dusty archives, his voice droning through case law everyone here already knows.

The Alliance observers nod along, scribes recording every word for reports that will be filed and forgotten.

Theater. All of it. Father’s delegate sits three seats to my left, presenting our formal objections with the precision of a man reading from a script.

“The House of Blue Dragon maintains that the Luminary Protocol was invoked under circumstances that constitute deliberate fraud. The dragon egg was smuggled into Black Dragon territory through covert means, representing an act of warfare disguised as sanctuary-seeking.”

Draven responds with the exact rebuttals we anticipated days ago. The Protocol makes no distinction regarding how a Luminary arrives, only that they require sanctuary and the bonding is genuine. Both conditions were verified by neutral observers. Case closed.

I let the words wash over me without listening. The legal framework is sound—I reviewed every precedent myself. The Alliance verification was thorough, witnessed by three bonded riders and a loremaster whose reputation is beyond question.

Father wants the dragon through political channels, through legal challenges and diplomatic pressure. He believes power can override precedent.

He’s wrong. The Protocol will hold because it was designed to hold. Three hundred years of legal architecture built to protect what Evelyn has become. But I don’t want what the law can give me.

I shift my gaze across the hall to where she stands beside Draven at the high table. My sister. Silver hair restored to its natural brilliance, no longer hiding behind dark dye and deception. She wears grey and black—the High House colors—standing tall with her shoulders squared and her hands resting calmly on the table.

She should be cowering. Should be broken, crushed under the weight of Father’s fury and the realm’s scrutiny and her own inadequacy made manifest. The weak daughter. The disappointment. The girl who couldn’t hold a candle without burning herself. Instead she looks like the woman the prophecy warned about.

Through the open terrace doors, Aspis gleams on the highest roost—white scales like polished bone in afternoon sun, wings folded with perfect symmetry, golden eyes watching the proceedings.

The dragon has grown enormous, already approaching Lord Draven’s dragon’s size, power radiating in visible waves that make the mounted blacks shift restlessly.

The stronger sister. The chosen one. The girl who should never have been born first, who should never have existed to cast her shadow across my life.

I watch Evelyn’s hand rest on Draven’s forearm, watch the way he turns his head slightly toward her when she whispers something, watch the bond between them that goes deeper than politics or alliance.

She has claimed everything—the dragon, the man, the power, the destiny that should have been mine. And she stands there like she deserves it.

“Lady Cassandra.” Father’s delegate is speaking to me, his voice cutting through my focus. “The formal inquiry regarding territorial sovereignty—your testimony would support the broader argument.”

I turn to him with a smile that feels like glass in my mouth. “Of course. Though I suspect Lord Draven will counter with the same jurisdictional precedents we’ve already discussed. The Protocol supersedes territorial claims when a bonded pair seeks sanctuary.”

“Nevertheless, the record should reflect—”

The witch’s words echo through my head like a prayer or a curse, depending on your perspective. “The prophecy ends when you end it. With your own hands. Blood calls to blood, sister to sister, the stronger extinguishing the weaker.”

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