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She patted my arm reassuringly. "Well, you'll just have to win this wretched thing so the king can bathe you in all the sweets."

Forcing another smile, I recalled what the king had said, not just during our presentation but also at last night's dinner:May Tarragon grant your path.

What did that mean? Tarragon—why did that sound so familiar? Perhaps Tarragon was a king, or noble faded away with the history of all those Magics. A history thatshouldbe known.

No, that's not it.

Swallowing hard in the stifling air, I longed to escape this dress, this crowd.

"I've never seen you in action, but based on all Levon has said, I know you'll do marvelously, dear. Believe in yourself," Admearin said, her voice soft with encouragement.

"Do you know who Tarragon is?" I blurted out, desperate for something to ground me in reality, craving answers, even if they were wrong.

"Tarragon?" she echoed, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"At the feast last night and up there," I gestured toward the high balcony jutting out of the castle. "The king said: 'May Tarragon grant your path to victory.' I don't remember much from my childhood history lessons, but I can't recall anything about Tarragon."

She furrowed her brows in thought, searching her memory for any clue. "I can't recall either. Perhaps Casmir or Levon might," she suggested, pulling me back towards them.

I appreciated her sincerity, her friendship feeling more genuine than Calum's. I dismissed the thought as we interrupted the men's conversation once more.

"Darling, do you know who Tarragon was?" Admearin shouted over the racket of the crowd. Casmir turned toward her, his green suit complementing his eyes and silver hair.

"I don't think it's a 'who' but rather a 'what,'" Casmir replied. "As far as I know, Tarragon is a spice most used in baking or cooking; said it adds a spicier bite to it."

My heart plummeted into my stomach as I recalled the little black drawing of a dragon on the spice Elise used to season the chicken. My head spun as their conversation continued.

"Well, that doesn't add up," Admearin remarked, casting a doubtful glance at me. "What does the king mean by 'may Tarragon grant your path to victory?'"

"Little Dragon," I muttered, interrupting, feeling the weight of its significance pressing down on me. May thedragongrant your path to victory. I sucked in a deep breath as my head spun with anxiety.

Admearin and Levon looked at me inquisitively, but Casmir's eyes widened with sudden realization, a fear that sent shivers down my spine. "Tarragon is known for its strong flavor, earning it another name: The Little Dragon."

I stepped back, my gaze rising to meet Levon's as the color drained from his face, confirming my worst fears. Admearin gasped beside me, and suddenly, the world around me seemed to blur into chaotic motion.

This morning, the basket of fruit left by the king was filled with dragon fruit.

Dragon.

I stumbled backward, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. Levon quickly reached out, grabbing my arm with a fierce grip. His eyes were ablaze with a mix of anger and disbelief.

"It can't be. It—it can't," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Levon's eyes met mine, searching for his own explanation.

Edmon knew it was some kind of creature…but adragon?

It couldn't be. It had to be a mistake. Dragons didn't exist—or at least, they weren't supposed to. Neither were the Breva, Miehja, or any other creatures summoned by Them.

"H-how does one fight a dragon?" I rasped, the words escaping me almost involuntarily. Acid burned my throat as a flicker of fear seized its way in, but my anger wrapped around it, choking it off before it could burrow deeper and steal my breath.

Levon turned to Casmir, whose own eyes reflected the same fear. Then he looked back at me, scanning the crowd frantically for a way out. His panic was palpable, etched across every lineof his body. When he met my eyes again, they were filled with worry.

"I promise you, we'll find a way," Levon rasped, his voice trembling and trailing off in an empty promise that filled my soul with dread.

"I need a drink," I panted, pushing through the crowd.

My heart thundered in my ears as bodies jostled me, buckling my knees and leaving me gasping for air, for relief from this—this life. Tears welled up, blurring my vision as Levon crouched down beside me, placing a gentle hand on my back as shock seized my body, rattling my breath.