The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Between Pages and Power

FIRI YS! BOY EIRLYS‘ POV

Clam

The days that followed passed in a gentle blur of ink and quiet lessons. Ashteryn was still away. though no one seemed certain when he would return.

In his absence, Evander took it upon himself to continue teaching me. His patience was both a

balm and a source of frustration, softly correcting the shape of my letters or the way my lips

moved as I sounded out the words.

We moved on to numbers, too. Evander said that counting was as important as reading and.

writing, that it was its own kind of language.

It felt like discovering a new kind of magic. Each number a small secret, a hidden pattern I was only just beginning to understand. Sometimes, when I forgot or stumbled, my own clumsiness

burned in my cheeks.

But Evander would lean closer then, a faint smile in his bright eyes, and say softly, “Patience,

snowdrop.”

When Evander was called away–summoned by duties, meetings, or the countless matters that occupied his days–I would slip away to the library by myself.

The vast, echoing halls, steeped in the quiet scent of old paper and flickering candles, became my refuge. On some days, I spent hours there, wandering the rows of shelves and losing myself in the soft rustle of turning pages. On other days, I would carry a single book back to my room and read it until my eyes hurt.

My progress was slow and sometimes uneven, but each new word I learned felt like a small

victory.

I only caught glimpses of Kierygan in those days–passing through a corridor, or standing at the edge of the courtyard with Ulyanna, Orryx, or Callum at his side. Sometimes, I would see him talking in low tones with Mirael, their heads close together.

But he never appeared at the dining table again, not since the day he gave me a name.

He seemed… different. Distant. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t dare ask.

Maybe he simply had too much to shoulder. Or maybe he had grown tired of looking after

someone like me.

I tried not to dwell on it. Thankfully, there are other things to fill my days now: Evander’s lessons,

the books, the parchment and quills. Without these small, steady things to anchor me, I might have fallen back into old fears–wondering what I’d done wrong.

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Chapter 22 Between Pages and Power

This morning, after breakfast, I had expected to sit with Evander again–learning new phrases or practicing the strange arithmetic he claimed would one day be “as easy as breathing.” But he only smiled at me, apologetically. “I have important people to meet today, Eirlys,” he said. “You’ll be on your own this morning.”

I managed a small nod. “I can spend time in the library,” I offered.

Before Evander could answer, Callum’s voice rumbled from the doorway. “That’s so boring,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. “You could come with me for the day. I promise, you’ll have fun.”

I looked at Evander, unsure.

He hesitated, then glanced at Callum before returning his gaze to me. “It’s up to you, snowdrop.”

Being put on the spot, I swallowed hard and nodded. “Alright, I’ll go.”

Before Callum could sweep me away, Evander pressed a book into my hands. It was much thicker than the ones he usually gave me, the leather cover worn smooth from years of use. His gaze was gentle but serious. “I thought you were ready for something a little heavier,” he said.

I traced the title with my fingers, reading it softly to myself–Altierra: Of Fire and Flight. The book felt solid, weighty in my arms.

Callum quided me out of the castle, and I assumed he was taking me to the gardens or perhaps to

the village beyond. But as we reached the outskirts of the castle walls, I realized where he was leading me: the training grounds.

They were already alive with noise and motion–men and women sparring with swords and staves, their shouts and the clash of steel filling the air. It was so different from the hushed stillness of the

library.

As soon as we stepped onto the packed earth, heads turned. The Warriors paused mid–swing, their eyes catching on me like I was something fragile that didn’t belong here. My fingers tightened around the book, my breath catching in my throat.

Callum only grinned, patting my shoulder. “Don’t look so nervous,” he said, his voice low but amused. “You’ll meet more people. That’s all.”

I

too

“I don’t want to meet more people,” I whispered. The crowd felt too big, their gaeavy.

He only laughed, his voice carrying easily over the din. “You’ll be fine.”

I protested, saying I wanted to go back. But instead Callum raised his voice and called out to everyone. “Listen up, everyone! I want you all to meet Eirlys!”

Some greeted me politely, some repeated my name under their breath, and others only murmured.

I stayed rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. My heart hammered in my chest, and I clutched

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Chapter 72 Between Pages and Power

the book tighter to myself like a shield. All I wanted was to vanish, to sink into the earth and hide.

From across the field, I saw him–Kierygan. He was standing at the edge of the yard, beside

Ulyanna and another familiar face whose name I hadn’t yet learned.

Our eyes met. His gaze darkened at once–like storm clouds gathering in his blue eyes. I could feel

his disapproval from across the yard, as if he didn’t want me here at all.

I lowered my gaze and slowly backed away, finding a fallen log at the edge of the training ground. I sat down and curled into myself, my fingers still clinging to Evander’s book. I forced myself to focus on the title, tracing the words to calm my racing thoughts.

I opened the book, though the words blurred before me. I read anyway, letting the letters and phrases drown out the world around me.

Suddenly, I felt someone’s presence above me. A tall man with thick braids of iron–grey hair and a broad chest clad in worn leather. He lowered himself to sit beside me on the log.

“Mind if I join you, little miss?” he asked, his voice deep and warm.

I shook my head, though I remained wary.

“I’m Thorin,” he said. “Master of Arms here.”

“Eirlys,” I replied softly, though I was sure he already knew,

He nodded, his gaze sweeping the training ground. Your presence might be doing some good for

them today,” he said with a small smile.

I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

He laughed, low and rumbling. “The warriors, especially the young men, they want to impress you. Show off their strength.”

I frowned, glancing down at the book again. Why would they care to impress me? I didn’t want to be here at all. But I stayed silent.

Thorin rose and called out to the warriors, telling them to rest for a while. The clash of swords and the grunts of exertion faded as they sheathed their blades and gathered around. Callum joined us, then Orryx as well.

Kierygan and Ulyanna were closer now, speaking in low voices. I caught Kierygan’s tight jaw, but he didn’t look my way again.

Out of nowhere, Mirael appeared. She moved like a cat–fluid and silent–until she was standing beside me. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she glanced at the book in my lap.

“Oh, what’s this?” she purred, and before I could react, she plucked it from my hands. She raised her eyebrows as she read the title, then looked back at me with a tilt of her head. “This might be a

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<Chapter 22 Between Pagen and Power

bit much for you, don’t you think?”

O

She smiled, her voice a sweet poison. “Maybe you’d be better off sticking to fairy tales in the

children’s section. Those are more your speed, aren’t they?”

She said it just loudly enough that a few of the resting warriors turned to look. My face flushed hot, but I kept my chin up.

The way she spoke–sweet and sharp all at once–made my skin prickle. But this time, I understood what she was doing. She wanted me to feel small.

I took a slow breath and looked up at her, my voice quiet but steady. “I tried reading fairy tales,” I said. “But they’re full of wicked witches.”

I paused just long enough to let the meaning settle Mirael’s smile froze, her eyes narrowing

slightly.

“So why would I want to read about them,” I finished, “when I’m already talking to one?”

A few warriors nearby stifled laughter, and even Thorin, Orryx, and Callum’s lips twitched with

amusement.

Mirael’s eyes narrowed to slits, her smile vanishing as she dropped the book at my feet. Her hand clenched at her side, then she stepped forward, her fingers outstretched like claws.

I flinched but didn’t back away. She suddenly stopped, her gaze flicking to my skin.

I felt it then–heat and light, crackling across my skin in threads of gold and white. My hair lifted as if caught in a sudden wind.

Mirael’s lips curled back in a snarl. “Don’t take another step,” she hissed, her voice trembling.

But I did. Just one step closer, my chest heaving. The light within me surged higher, and I wanted her to feel it–the rage, the pain, all of it.

Mirael’s eyes widened, and she lifted a hand as if to shield herself. “Stop,” she spat, her voice sharp with panic.

I wanted to stop. But I also wanted her to feel what she had stirred in me.

Then a voice cut through it all.

“Eirlys.”

Kierygan’s voice. Calm, steady, and somehow colder than ice.

I froze. The light on my skin guttered like a candle in the wind, and the fury that had filled me ebbed away. Mirael stepped back quickly, her breath ragged.

I didn’t dare meet his eyes. I bent, snatched up the book from where it had fallen, and turned away.

< Chapter 22 Between Pages and Power

My cheeks burned with shame. He must have seen it all.

Before anyone else could stop me, I ran. Back through the training ground, past the warriors and

their startled faces. Past the curious stares and whispered voices. I ran up the stairs and into the castle halls, not stopping until I reached my room.

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, pressing the book to my chest. My breath came in shuddering gasps.

I thought of the way Kierygan had called me to stop–quiet but heavy. Somehow, the disappointment I imagined in his eyes stung far worse than Mirael’s cutting words.