Page 5 of Song of the Heart Scale (The Dragon’s Ballad #3)
CAT
S unlight filtered through the gossamer curtains, painting golden streaks across the rumpled bedsheets.
I stirred, consciousness slowly returning as I stretched my limbs, feeling the pleasant ache in muscles that were thoroughly used the night before.
A satisfied smile curved my lips before I even opened my eyes.
“Damien?” I murmured, reaching across the bed.
My fingers found only cool sheets. I blinked fully awake and pushed up onto my elbows. The room was empty and silent except for the birdsong drifting through the partially open window. The space beside me where Damien had slept was vacant, but the pillow still bore the imprint of his head.
“Of course,” I muttered, a familiar disappointment settling in my chest.
As I moved to sit up, something crinkled beneath my hand. A folded piece ofparchment rested on the pillow. My heart skipped as I unfolded it, recognizing Damien's bold, slanting script immediately.
Cat, I'll find a way for us. Trust me. Wait for me. -D
Three simple lines. No elaborate promises or detailed plans—just the essence of what I needed to hear. I traced my finger over the ink, imagining his hand moving across the parchment in the early morning light while I slept.
“Not much of a goodbye,” I whispered, but couldn't help smiling. Typical Damien—cryptic and commanding, even in his tenderness.
I pressed the note to my chest and breathed in the faint scent of him that still clung to the paper.
Relief washing through me, I fell back against the pillows with the note clutched in my hand.
The brevity of his message somehow made it more powerful.
No flowery promises, just a simple declaration of intent.
That was Damien—a man of action, not words.
“My lady?” Maeve's voice called through the door, followed by a soft knock. “Are you awake?”
“Oh, shit.” I hastily tucked the note under my pillow and pulled the sheets up. “Come in!”
Maeve opened the door and stumbled inside my bedroom, rubbing her temples. She groaned. “My lady, where did you go last night?”
I covered my mouth and chuckled. “Why? What happened?”
“That Dragon’s Breath game nearly undid me.” She staggered over to my bed and sat on the edge. “Berta has quite a tolerance.”
I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing. “How hungover are you, Maeve?”
“Hung what?” she repeated.
“Hungover!” I repeated.
She winced and covered her ears. “Please don’t shout. I’m a bit sensitive.”
“Apologies.” I patted her on the shoulder. “I should have stayed by your side. I’m sorry. I wasn’t being a girl’s girl last night. That was wrong of me.”
She grimaced. “You weren’t being what?”
“A girl’s girl,” I said. “Forget about it.” I waved her off. “It means I wasn’t being a good friend.” Mainly because I was getting dicked down while she was getting drunk, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Lady Arya never considered me her friend…”
I sighed. “Well… Lady Arya’s a bitch.”
Maeve snorted and gently shook her head. “I’ve learned what that word is, my lady. That’s not very nice.”
I offered a bright smile. “I’m glad you’re expanding your vocabulary, but I never claimed to be nice. Now tell me, Maeve, what’s the game plan for tonight?”
“Young Master Jacob came back from Dragon Valley early this morning with Lord Zacharia. They have requested your presence for breakfast.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course they did. One thinks I’m his sister, and the other one is a shitty father. Sounds like a party.”
Maeve offered a sympathetic smile. “Would you like help getting ready?”
I reluctantly nodded and swung my legs out from under the covers. “Yeah, better get it over with. The sooner I endure this family reunion, the sooner I can plot my escape.”
Maeve gracefully moved to the wardrobe and selected a pale lavender gown with silver embroidery. Her hands shook slightly, and I knew her headache was probably fierce. “Drink water, Maeve. It'll help. Also, eat anything greasy. Helps with the tummy rumblings.”
“Thank you, my lady,” she murmured, handing me the dress. “I will.”
I dressed mechanically as my mind spun through and discarded a dozen possibilities and outcomes. Damien’s note was vague but hopeful, and though I trusted him, relying solely on hope felt precarious at best. It was best if I took matters into my own hands.
Once Maeve helped me dress, we walked out of my bedroom and headed down the walking path toward the dining hall across the courtyard.
The dining hall was brilliantly bright with sunlight streaming through tall, narrow windows, casting a golden glow over the polished wooden table. Jacob stood as soon as I entered and his face lit up. Lord Zacharia remained seated, his expression carefully neutral.
“Arya!” Jacob exclaimed, coming over to embrace me warmly. I awkwardly patted his back, guilt twisting my stomach as it always did when I wore this facade around Arya’s brother. He pulled back, his eyes searching my face. “You look well.”
“Thanks.” I forced a smile. “You too.”
Lord Zacharia cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Sit down, Arya. We have matters to discuss.”
Of course we did. They probably had tons of shit for me to do after their meeting in Dragon Valley.
And only God knew what was going on in that man’s head.
Something had been off with him since the day I was flogged in the courtyard.
It was just too weird. Lady Arya was his favorite child.
For him to do that to her seemed… odd . Something was going on.
If I had any chance to protect myself, I needed to find out what it was.
“Wonderful,” I muttered sarcastically, taking a seat. Maeve lingered nearby, clearly uncomfortable but unwilling to abandon me.
Jacob gave me an uncertain look, clearly uneasy. Lord Zacharia straightened, his eyes cold and calculating. “Arya, your marriage to Crown Prince Thorne is more crucial than ever.”
“Oh?” I raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Why, exactly?”
Zacharia sighed as he steepled his fingers.
“Our family’s mines provide the iron that secures the fae in Faelight Forest, but those mines have been empty for three years now.
Without that resource, our family's position and the kingdom's security are at risk. Marrying Thorne could shield us from the emperor’s wrath when he inevitably learns the truth.”
Jacob stared at his father in shock, even though he already knew how dire the family’s fortunes were.
“Don’t look so surprised, Jacob,” Zacharia snapped. “This is our reality. And now you understand the urgency.”
I narrowed my eyes. “So you're selling me off to Thorne to cover your own incompetence?”
“It’s not ideal,” Zacharia admitted coldly. “But sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”
I clenched my fists beneath the table as fury simmered in my chest. “The greater good—or your own survival?”
Lord Zacharia unflinchingly met my gaze. “They're one and the same, at this point.”
Something wasn’t right. Zacharia would never do this to his daughter Arya… unless he knew I wasn’t her .
I leaned back in my chair, my heart pounding with anger. Damien’s words echoed in my mind— I’ll find a way . I trusted him, but I didn’t plan to rely solely on anyone else’s plans. Especially not Zacharia’s, and certainly not when the stakes were my freedom. Particularly if he knew the truth.
I leaned forward and placed my palms flat against the polished table, my voice deceptively calm despite the storm building within.
“So let me get this straight—you want me to marry Thorne to save your asses from the emperor finding out you've been lying through your teeth for three years? Seriously? That's your grand plan?”
Lord Zacharia’s expression darkened, clearly unused to anyone—especially Arya— openly challenging him. “Mind your tone, Arya. This isn’t a discussion. It's your duty.”
“Oh, my duty? Right. My bad. Almost forgot my primary job description around here is to cover your incompetence with a smile,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Beside me, Jacob shifted uncomfortably, clearly torn between his father’s authority and the obvious logic of my argument.
“You need to understand the situation—” Zacharia began, attempting a measured tone.
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I interrupted. “You screwed up. Big time. You gambled everything on those mines and lost, and then you decided to hide it and lie. And now I’m supposed to waltz into a loveless marriage with a narcissistic sociopath just to keep your heads from rolling.”
Jacob raised a hesitant hand, clearly uncertain of his role in this conflict. “Arya, we don’t want to force you, but there are real consequences here—”
I whipped around to face him, frustration bubbling over. “Jacob, you literally just found out your father’s been lying to you! Wake up and smell the bullshit. He's manipulating you as much as he's trying to manipulate me!”
“Arya!” Zacharia snapped. He abruptly stood, his chair scraping harshly against the stone floor. “That’s enough! This marriage will happen. There is no alternative.”
“Oh, there are plenty of alternatives!” I retorted, rising to match him and meeting his glare head-on. “But since you’re too cowardly to face them, you’d rather sacrifice me like a pawn.”
“Arya, please ,” Jacob urgently whispered, trying to ease the tension. “We’re family. Surely, we can find a middle ground?”
My expression softened when I turned to Jacob. “Jacob, family doesn’t treat each other like disposable assets. Family protects each other.” I jerked a thumb towards Zacharia. “ This isn’t protection. This is exploitation.”
Zacharia’s voice cut through, ice-cold and unyielding. “Your insolence grows tiresome. Whether you agree or not, preparations will continue. The emperor expects this union and we cannot disappoint him.”