The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 39

Chapter 39: A Pawn, A Symbol, or Something Else?

KIERYGAN’S POV

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The energy in the room was already tense, heated debates humming beneath clipped voices. But everything fell silent the moment I stepped into the council chamber.

I crossed the stone floor, and took my seat at the head of the long oak table. The old chair groaned in protest as I settled into it.

Evander, well aware I had no patience for idle chatter, cleared his throat and launched straight into

the agenda.

AR

“There’s unrest in Vargheim,” Evander said, steepling his fingers, his tone clipped but measured. Malric’s flight left a vacuum, and too many are already clawing to fill it. The Alphas are at each other’s throats over who should take control. The vampire dominions edge closer to the borders. Even the witches have begun murmuring about revisiting old terms.”

His eyes narrowed at me. “We need to make our move. Get a foothold before someone else does.”

I leaned back, jaw tight. “I can fly there tomorrow,” said. “Show them. Remind them why Malric and Morwenna scurried off to hide.”

Orryx cut in before I could say more. “Easy, Kier,” he said, arms folded. His tone was level, but there was warning beneath it. “You need to show strength, yes. But not through fire and blood. Not this

time.”

He took a slow sip of wine before continuing. “You ead with unity. Forge alliances first. Then make

them swear fealty.”

Evander nodded. “I agree,” he said. “There are other ways to show strength.”

I raised a brow. “Go on.”

“A ball,” he said, flashing a smile I didn’t trust. “Here at the palace. Invite every faction. Let them see what your reign looks like.”

I didn’t answer. My gaze shifted to the others.

Ulyanna frowned, but stayed silent. Iskander was already jotting figures into his ledger, muttering to himself. Thorin looked like he’d rather be stabbed than sit through a ballroom gathering-but, to

his credit, he held his tongue.

I scoffed. “You know how I feel about balls. The last time this palace hosted one, it ended in blood.

Orryx stepped in then, arms still crossed. “Even so, I’d have to agree with Evander,” he said. “That’s how your father, King Aleron, built alliances. He brought them here. Made them drink, dance, and

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kneel.”

Callum weighed in next. “This time, we know Malric won’t strike,” he said. “He doesn’t have the

means anymore.”

Then Beleron spoke-slow, deliberate. “And perhaps,” he said, “you could present the girl.”

Silence.

He continued, eyes sharp. “Let them see she stands at your side-that the power they once

coveted now belongs to you.”

My fingers curled against the stone armrest. “She’s not a pawn.”

“No, my king. That’s not what I meant,” Beleron said quickly. “But she is a symbol.”

Clarn

My fist slammed against the table. “Leave the girl out of this,” I growled. “She’s suffered enough.”

Across the table, Evander exhaled, his expression tight with conflict. “I hate to say it, Kier. Truly. But Beleron has a point.” He paused. “Symbols matter especially when you’re rebuilding a kingdom.”

He leaned back in his chair, his voice casual. “It won’t be anything demanding,” he said, reclining slightly. “She only needs to stand at your side. Nothing more.”

The idea of parading Eirlys like a polished trophy turned my stomach.

But the image of her beside me-radiant, admired, every eye drawn to her… yet none daring to

touch because she was mine-

I didn’t hate that. Not at all.

EIRLYS’ POV

Aside from sword training with Orryx and the occasional lectures with Evander, these light lessons with Solara became my favorite part of the day.

And I was getting better. Still far from perfect-but better.

The crackle had been the easiest to tame, ironically With enough practice, I could summon it. And more importantly, I could pull it back when it surged.

Glow, however… glow was trickier.

It didn’t come with fear or rage. It came with something softer. Stranger. Things I hadn’t known l was even capable of feeling: Joy. Elation. Fascination. Safety.

And somehow-it only ever happened when Kierygan was near.

So I tried to remember those moments. The brush of his tongue against my wound. The time I’d

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Chapter 39 A Pawn, A Symbol u Something 11.07

been bold enough to rest my face against his chest

Somehow, it worked.

Not as radiant as when he’s truly near-but enough to make the air stir. Enough to make Solara pause and glance at me with wonder.

Today, I was getting ready to meet Solara-eager to make more progress.

Clem

As if summoned by my thoughts, she appeared-cloak fluttering behind her, lips twitching like she was barely holding back a secret.

I straightened instinctively. “Crackle control today, or glow again?”

“Neither,” she said lightly. “We have a different lesson today. And for the next few days.”

My heart dipped. “Oh?”

Her expression softened, voice turning more serious. “It was actually the king’s request.”

My heart stumbled. “Kierygan?”

Solara’s smile widened. “Unless you know of another monarch eager to give you lessons-yes, the

Dragon King.”

My breath caught. “What… kind of lesson?”

Solara stepped into the center of the courtyard, her boots silent against the stone. She turned, gesturing for me to follow.

“You, Eirlys,” she said with a smile, “are to attend your first royal ball. And we need to make sure

you’re ready.”

A ball.

I’d read about them in the books Evander gave me nights filled with music and dancing, silk gowns and glittering lights. Princesses and princes. Stories that felt like they belonged in another

world.

And now Solara was telling me I would be in one.

I fidgeted, nerves blooming in my chest like weeds. “I… don’t think I’d like to,” I said softly. “Look at me. I won’t belong there.”

Solara’s voice softened. “Nonsense,” she said gently. “You won’t just belong there. You’ll shine

there.”

She didn’t give me time to doubt or retreat. With a confident turn, she led me down the corridor

and into a grand hall she called the ballroom.

We began with the basics-how to greet with poise, how to answer questions without shrinking

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Chapter 39 A Pawn, A Symbol, or Something Else?

Claim

into myself. I practiced holding eye contact, even when it made my skin prickle. I stumbled through

lines of courtesy, tripped over posture corrections, and tried not to flinch every time Solara

adjusted my stance.

After what felt like hours of wobbling through curtsies, she clapped her hands together. “Right,”

she said. “Time for the real challenge.”

I looked up, already suspicious. “Worse than etiquette?”

“Dancing.”

I froze. “This is really not a good idea.”

Solara only smiled and waved me off. Then she pressed something that looked like a carved

music box-and sound poured through the room, melodic and haunting.

She began to show me the steps, counting aloud to the rhythm.

I fumbled immediately.

Solara smiled, ever patient. “You need a partner.”

And right on cue-as if fate had a sense of humor-Evander strolled in, arms tucked behind him

and that trademark smirk dancing on his lips.

“Need a prince for your fair maiden?” he drawled.

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