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Instead, I let the silence stretch, dragging my nails slowly along the soft fabric of my gown, tracing invisible patterns against the silk. The tension in the room thickens, the men shifting slightly, waiting, watching.

“She is not invincible,” I murmur at last, tilting my head. “Powerful? Yes. But not without her faults. Her weaknesses.”

Aldric hums, swirling the wine in his goblet. “Where do I strike?”

I lean forward, letting my tentacles unfurl lazily from my back, gliding over my arms, trailing along my collarbone. “Not with steel.”

His brow lifts, intrigue flashing behind his dark eyes. “No?”

I shake my head. “You could throw every sword, every spear, every battle-hardened soldier at her gates, and it wouldn’t be enough. Dragons don’t fear blades. They fear ruin. They fear the slow, creeping decay of their own power being stripped away, piece by piece, until they have nothing left.”

His smirk deepens. “And you can do this?”

I smile in return, slow, deliberate. “What do you think?”

Aldric exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “I think,” he muses, lifting his goblet, “that you are dangerous, sea witch.”

“Good,” I say smoothly. “Then you are paying attention.”

The guards flanking him shift uneasily. They do not like this.

They should be afraid.

A man behind me—young, foolish—scoffs under his breath. “A sea witch isn’t going to be the one to bring a dragon down,” he mutters, low enough that he thinks I won’t hear.

Wrong.

His mistake is assuming I will let it go, thatheis untouchable.

Without moving, without speaking, I flick my wrist. The water in his goblet trembles—then rises, twisting into a thin tendril that snakes toward his throat.

He gasps, jerking back, his hand flying to his neck as the water tightens.

The other men react instantly, hands flying to their weapons, but Aldric raises a single hand.

He does not stop me. Instead, he watches. He wants me to show them exactly what I am. What power I wield.

The soldier struggles, his eyes bulging as the water slips down his throat, filling his lungs, drowning him where he stands.

I hold him there, watching the light fade from his eyes, feeling the delicious panic in the air until I grow bored.

Then, with a flick of my fingers, I release him.

He collapses to the ground, coughing, retching, gasping for air.

I don’t spare him another glance.

I turn back to Aldric, meeting his gaze evenly. “Let’s get one thing clear,” I say, voice smooth as silk, sharp as a blade. “Disrespect me again, and I will drown this entire camp. I am more powerful than any of you mere humans could even fathom to understand.”

Aldric watches me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smirk tugs at his lips. “And yet, you are here, meeting with me when you could take the Dragon Queen down yourself.”

I incline my head, stepping closer, letting my fingers trail down his arm, letting my nails graze his skin. “I am,” I murmur, voice like velvet. “Because I want something from you, the same way you want something from me.”

His smirk does not falter. If anything, it deepens. “And what would that be?”

I press closer, letting my breath ghost against his ear. “You want my power? Fine. I will lend you my strength. I will lend you the sea. But I do not fight for free.”

A flicker of hesitation—small, but there.