CH - 6 -

He took a shaking breath and pressed his ear against the door, listening if he could hear any footsteps outside. But everything was eerily quiet, as if the guards were standing right outside his room but making no sound.

Zilias cursed under his breath, feeling a mixture of anger and helplessness. He was effectively trapped in his own room, without a shred of freedom to be found. He took a few steps back from the door and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. He needed to think clearly, to find a way out of this situation. Maybe he could slip out the window? But that would be risky, especially since his room was on the second floor. He wasn't quite the daring adventurer type who could just jump out of the window and land on his feet effortlessly.

Zilias began to pace up and down the room, his mind racing for a possible solution.

But he couldnt find one. He was stuck. Some servants did bring him food every few days. Not every day since he had to stay skinny for his marriage. Frustration and desperation filled him. He was a prisoner in his own home, being held captive with the facade of it all being for his own good. The thought of having to stay in his room for days to come made his heart ache.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, his mind wandering back to Alby again. He missed him, he missed his smile, his touch, the sound of his voice. Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes again, but he quickly blinked them away, refusing to succum to the sadness. He had to stay strong, he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him. But his efforts were in vain; the dam holding back his emotions finally broke, and tears started streaming down his face again.

He buried his face in his hands, sobbing quietly into them. He had never felt so helpless and alone in his life.

The day of the marriage with the dragon Seraphel came closer. Way to close for Zilias comfort. As the days went by, Zilias felt like he was walking through a nightmare. Every passing moment brought him closer to his impending fate, and the dread in his heart only grew stronger.

On the day of his wedding, he stood in his room, wearing a formal outfit. He felt like a puppet on strings, being pulled towards a future he never wanted. His heart was pounding in his chest, the weight of the situation almost suffocating him. He looked at himself in the mirror, his gaze roaming over his reflection. He didn't recognize the person staring back at him. He looked pale, gaunt and dead inside. There was no trace of the lively and happy boy he once was. He felt as if his soul had deserted his body, leaving behind only a shell that was supposed to fulfill the duties of a Prince. A knock on the door broke the tense silence in the room, making Zilias jump slightly. His heartrate picked up speed, and he tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it did little to calm his nerves.

"Yes?" he called out, his voice a bit hoarse. He could hear the handle turning, and the door opened a crack, the stern face of his father appearing on the other side.

"It's time." the king said, his voice as cold and commanding as ever. Zilias felt a shiver run down his spine, but he nodded silently, knowing that there was no going back now.

His father pushed open the door fully and stepped into the room, his gaze travelling over Zilias from head to toe. "You look presentable enough." he said, his tone not betraying any emotions. Zilias felt a mix of anger and helplessness at his father's words. He wanted to yell at him, to tell him how unfair this all was, but he knew it would be in vain. Instead, he just swallowed his emotions and nodded once again.

The king stepped closer to him and began fixing his clothes, straightening his jacket and adjusting his collar. Zilias let him do it, feeling like a living dress-up doll. After a moment, the king stepped back and gave Zilias' appearance a final, satisfied nod. "Perfect." he said, his tone betraying no hint of affection or concern for his own son.

Zilias tried to quell the mix of anger and anxiety in his chest, knowing that arguing now would be pointless. He had to play along, no matter how much he hated it.

The king placed a hand on Zilias' shoulder, his grip firm. "Come now. The ceremony is about to begin."

With a heavy heart, Zilias nodded, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other and follow his father out of the room. His mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but he pushed them all down, knowing he had to keep up the facade of a loyal and obedient son. As they walked through the halls, Zilias felt like he was in a haze. The surroundings appeared as a blur, the distant voices of the guests nothing but a dull background noise.

He was led into the ceremonial room, the grandeur of the surroundings only adding to his feeling of being trapped. His eyes flicked around the room, taking in the rows of seats filled with nobles and other important guests.

There was a man with large horns already standing near the priest. Zilias' gaze fell upon the man with the large horns, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. He couldn't deny that the man was indeed very handsome. His eyes were a striking golden color, almost as if they glowed with a warm intensity. His long black hair framed his face beautifully, and the horns protruding from his forehead were like a crown of power.

Zilias felt a strange mix of excitement and dread wash over him, realizing that this had to be the dragon he was supposed to marry. The man was dressed in elegant black and gold attire, the colours a stark contrast to his pale skin. He exuded an aura of power and grace, and Zilias couldn't help but feel drawn to him despite everything.