The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118: Truth in the Tea

MIRAEL

+25 Points

She moved through her chambers with urgency, slipping folded garments, vials, charms, and a scatter of gold coins into a worn leather satchel. Mirael checked each piece twice, though Morwenna had warned her not to carry too much that might draw attention; still, she couldn’t help the small, eager flutter in her chest as the satchel grew heavier.

A knock broke through her thoughts, sharp against the wooden door. Her pulse skipped. With a hissed curse, she shoved the satchel beneath her bed, smoothing her skirts as though nothing

were amiss.

When she opened the door, Orryx stood at the threshold, broad-shouldered, his expression cool as

ever.

“Kierygan wants to see you in his study,” he said casually. “Something about Morwenna. He wants your thoughts.”

For a heartbeat, Mirael’s composure slipped, excitement surging too swiftly in her chest. To be summoned-by him-now, of all times. To be wanted, to be needed again. She forced her lips into a measured smile, veiling the heat that rose too quickly. “Tell him I’ll be right down.”

When the door shut, she leaned against it, her heart still hammering. Weeks, months, of being unseen had gnawed at her, and soon she would be gone for a quest-who knew how long until she laid eyes on him again? This summons… this was a gift.

She stepped toward the mirror, fingers threading through her chocolate-brown hair, coaxing it to fall just so around her face. A delicate sweep of color on her lips, a soft flush to her cheeks-she tilted her head, scrutinizing every angle until satisfaction bloomed.

By the time she stepped from her chambers, she was humming softly, each note stitched with

anticipation.

Mirael glided down the quiet corridors, the soft padding of her boots barely stirring the stone

beneath. The stillness of the palace only sharpened her anticipation, each step a heartbeat closer

to him-closer to the private study where, at last, she could be near him.

When she reached the study, a thrill shot through her chest. The door stood slightly ajar-no need

to knock, no formalities. Relief mingled with excitement. They were alone. No Eirlys. No council

members. Just him and her.

A slow, deliberate smile curved her lips. She drew herself up, smoothing a stray lock of hair, letting

her hands rest lightly at her sides. Her pulse quickened, a delicious tension curling through her.

Mustering the sweetest, most intoxicating voice she could summon, she let it float across the

threshold.

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< Chapter 118: Truth in the Tea

“You called for me, Kier?”

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KIERYGAN’S POV

Her perfume hit me the moment she stepped into the room-too sweet, cloying, almost suffocating. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to twitch in distaste. Her voice, soft and honeyed, lingered longer than it should have, teasing the edges of memory I didn’t want to revisit.

العالم

I leaned back slightly in my chair, smoothing the edge of control across my features. “Have a seat,”

I said, my tone clipped, even, and careful.

Mirael’s smile widened. Her hips swayed as she closed the space between us. She sank into the

chair across from me, leaning forward just enough to make her presence unavoidable, her gaze

locked on mine.

I lifted a teapot and poured the steaming tea into the cup before her. The faint scent of herbs

wafted up, cutting slightly through the sweetness of her perfume. I lifted my own cup and sipped.

Mirael mirrored the motion, picking up the tea I had poured, her fingers brushing the rim before she

brought it to her lips. Her eyes flicked up at me briefly, and I caught the tiniest spark of something -anticipation, maybe amusement-but I kept my gaze neutral.

“I suppose,” I finally said, setting down my cup, “that with your frequent disappearances, you are

not neglecting your duties… spying on our enemies?”

Her smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. But it was enough for me to notice the faint tremor in her fingers as she raised the cup again. Then she settled, smoothing the moment with

practiced ease.

“Not neglecting anything,” she said, her voice light, calm, carefully controlled.

I inclined my head slightly, watching her with patient detachment. “And Morwenna,” I went on,

leaning back, eyes fixed on hers. “After I ended Malric… she vanished. Do you have any leads on where she’s gone?”

Mirael hesitated, eyes narrowing just a fraction before she set the cup down. Her lips pressed into a line, then curved into a polite, untroubled smile. “Still tracking her,” she said, tilting her head lightly, “but… I am close. Very close.”

I let the words hang in the air, reading the subtle cues. Still, she had the nerve to hold my gaze, confident, as if daring me to doubt her. I sipped my tea again, calm, patient.

I nodded once and tapped the teapot. “More?”

“Yes,” she breathed, too quickly.

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Truth in the

< Chapter 118: Truth in the Tea

+25 Points

I tipped the pot, letting a stream of dark amber spill into her cup. When it was full, I set it down with a soft click and folded my hands.

“Tell me, Mirael,” I said, voice even, “what punishment do you think would befit Morwenna once we catch her? Do you think burning her would be proper for a dark witch like her?”

Her throat worked. For a heartbeat, her painted smile slipped, and I caught the faint twitch of her fingers as she raised the cup. She swallowed, then said, “Yes. Burn her. That would be fitting.”

I let a smile tug at my lips, cold and polite. “Mm.” I lifted my own cup, inhaled the steam, and sipped. “And what of traitors? What punishment do you think they deserve? Those who smile at me in daylight but aid my enemies in shadow. Do you think I should burn them alive, too?”

Her cup rattled against the saucer, a faint clink that betrayed her. She drained it in a single gulp, throat bobbing as she forced the tea down.

“Yes,” she said, her voice thin but steady. “Traitors should burn.”

I leaned back, allowing my smile to deepen. “Good. Then thank you, Mirael. You’ve just made it far easier for me to decide what to do with you once I’ve proven you are one.”

Mirael forced her lips into a sharp, brittle smile, though her heart thundered in her chest. “What are you saying, Kier?” she asked evenly, though the denial slipped out too fast. “I would never betray

you.”

“You’ll talk soon enough,” I said coldly.

She shifted in her seat, uneasy. I tilted my head, studying her. “Did you enjoy the tea?”

I crossed the room with deliberate steps, caught her by the arm, and dragged her back to her chair. She fought, but her strength was nothing compared to mine.

Her gaze flicked to her cup-and lingered. She didn’t answer.

“Ulyanna brewed it just for you,” I said, my voice calm, unhurried.

Her eyes widened as realization struck. Ulyanna’s truth potion-woven into the tea-was already

seeping through her veins. Soon it would loosen the tongue she thought so cleverly guarded.

“You don’t understand,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Everything I did,

everything I do, is for you.”

She shot to her feet and bolted for the doors-only to slam against the invisible ward Ulyanna and

Scylla had set long before she entered my chamber. The impact reverberated through the wood,

and she stumbled back, dazed.

“You’re not getting out,” I said quietly, rising at last.

I crossed the room with deliberate steps, caught her by the arm, and dragged her back to her chair.

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< Chapter 118: Truth in the Tea

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She fought, but her strength was nothing compared to mine.

I returned to my seat behind the desk, fingers laced atop the polished surface. “While we wait for

the brew to take hold, perhaps we should speak to someone far more… willing.”

Without shifting my gaze from her paling face, I called, “Bring him in.”

Ulyanna stepped through first, her expression cool and unreadable, Scylla gliding silently at her

side. But neither of them drew the reaction I anticipated.

It was the man trailing behind the two witches that drained the color from Mirael’s face, leaving her

as pale as parchment.

The young man stepped forward, pulling a chair and sliding it across to face Mirael. He leaned

back, hands resting casually on his thighs, yet his eyes never left hers.

“Surprised to see me, darling?” His voice was smooth, teasing-but under it, I sensed steel.

Mirael’s lips pressed into a thin line. She tilted her head, forcing an air of calm before turning to me.

“I… I don’t know this man, Kier,” she said, clipped and measured.

I allowed the faintest raise of my eyebrow. Her denial was expected-but it revealed only so much.

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