The throne room had shattered.
Not physically.
But something inside it had.
Now the aftermath settled like dust.
Part I — Mk.3’s Silence
Derpy lay in the queen’s chambers, unconscious but breathing steady.
The collar marks still burned faintly at his neck.
Mk.1 sat closest.
Too close.
Her fingers hovered over his sleeve like she was waiting for permission that didn’t exist.
Mk.3 stood by the window.
Still.
Watching.
But not watching the trees.
Watching him.
“You hesitated,” Mk.1 said softly.
Mk.3 didn’t turn.
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Silence.
Mk.3’s jaw tightened.
“When he broke the collar,” Mk.1 continued, “you did not strike first.”
Mk.3’s fingers twitched near her hidden seams.
“He was not targeting us.”
“That is not the point,” Mk.1 replied.
Mk.3 turned sharply now.
“It is exactly the point.”
The air shifted.
Mk.3’s voice lowered.
“He shattered the queen’s control without killing her.”
She paused.
“He froze the king without taking his head.”
Another pause.
“And he asked about Riven.”
Mk.1 blinked slowly.
Friend.
The word lived inside her like a command she didn’t understand.
Mk.3 stepped closer to Derpy.
“He knew the program designation.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“No one outside the War Office should know that.”
Mk.1 tilted her head.
“He angry.”
“Yes.”
Mk.3’s voice softened almost imperceptibly.
“But not mindless.”
That was the fracture.
And she knew it.
Part II — Mk.1 Bends the Rules
Mk.1 moved closer to Derpy.
She touched his sleeve again.
Then—very quietly—she adjusted the edge of his collar scar with careful fingers.
Not fixing.
Just easing pressure.
That alone was a violation.
Mk.3 saw it.
“You are altering assigned containment posture.”
Mk.1 looked at her.
Friend.
Mk.3 exhaled.
“If the king sees that—”
“He will not,” Mk.1 replied.
Mk.3’s loyalty wavered for half a breath.
Not away from the Empire.
But sideways.
Toward the question.
Toward Riven.
Toward why the first doll had been discarded.
Toward why Derpy had defended her without knowing her.
“You are bending orders,” Mk.3 said.
Mk.1 answered simply:
“He fix me.” Mk.3 didn’t answer immediately.
Because the logic made sense.
That was enough.
Part III — The Repair Pact (Foreshadow)
Down the hall, Mk.2 stood in recovery.
One arm replaced with temporary components.
Not stable.
Not aligned.
She stared at the door.
Waiting.
She had made a request.
To be repaired by him.
The king had allowed it.
Because curiosity outweighed risk.
That decision would cost them.
They just didn’t know how yet.
Outside the Walls
Night pressed heavy against the Elven border.
Lenora stood at the cliff edge, eyes fixed on the distant glow of the capital.
Lewd paced.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Her hands flexed like she wanted something to break.
Mia sat close to her boots.
Silent.
Ears pinned forward.
Sphinx perched on a broken stone column, tail wrapped tight around his paws.
He wasn’t relaxed.
He was calculating.
Inside Mia’s thoughts:
He’s too far.
Sphinx’s mind brushed against hers.
Not dead.
Mia’s ears twitched.
You sure?
If he were dead, the thread would snap.
Mia didn’t understand magic contracts.
But she understood absence.
And this wasn’t absence.
This was distance.
Lenora exhaled sharply.
“We’re wasting time.”
Lewd stopped pacing.
“Charging the capital blind is worse.”
Ace leaned back against a pillar, hammer balanced over her shoulders like she was resting between sparring rounds.
“There’s nothing you can do right now.”
Lenora shot her a glare.
Ace didn’t blink.
“Getting emotional won’t breach a world tree.”
Lewd’s jaw tightened.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
Ace’s eyes cut to her.
“Is it?”
Lenora didn’t let the moment slip.
“You keep showing up,” Lenora said. “You keep helping. You keep acting like you don’t care.”
Ace shifted her grip on the hammer—small, controlled.
“So ask,” Ace said.
Lenora stepped closer.
“Why did you join the Queen of Faydurn?” Lenora demanded. “And what made you want to join the Sinister Seven?”
Ace stared out toward the capital glow.
Her voice came out quieter than usual.
“Because my kind is a cage.”
Lewd’s pacing slowed.
Ace’s wings flexed once, then settled.
“I was born into dragon law,” Ace continued. “It sounds powerful when you say it like that. Like tradition. Like pride.”
A pause.
“It’s control. It’s hierarchy. It’s bloodline. It’s ‘your strength belongs to the nest.’”
Lenora’s brows pulled together.
“And you left?”
Ace’s eyes narrowed.
“I ran.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Queen—” she corrected herself, “the one you call Queen, the codename… she ran with me.”
Lewd’s voice cracked.
“And Vespera?”
Ace didn’t answer immediately.
That silence did.
Lewd swallowed.
“You left her.”
Ace’s teeth showed.
“We didn’t leave her because we didn’t care,” Ace said. “We left because if we stayed, we would’ve been made into weapons for our own kind.”
Lenora’s voice lowered.
“What happened?”
Ace’s gaze stayed on the horizon.
“I watched a female elder take a male’s throat because he spoke out of turn,” she said. “Not in battle. Not in war.”
Her fingers flexed on the hammer handle.
“At a feast.”
Lewd went still.
Ace kept going, like she’d decided the words were poison and she needed them out.
“I watched hatchlings taught obedience before they were taught names. I watched ‘mates’ chosen like property. I watched dragons disappear when they asked questions about where the missing went.”
Lenora’s stomach turned.
Lewd’s eyes shone.
“That’s… that’s terrible,” Lewd whispered.
“It’s evil,” Lenora said.
Ace’s wings folded tighter.
“And out here?” Ace said. “In Faydurn?”
She gave a short, bitter laugh.
“We’re freer.”
Lewd flinched.
Ace didn’t soften it.
“In the Kingdom of Faydurn, we can eat whoever and whenever,” Ace said. “If the Queen demands it.”
Lenora’s face hardened.
Lewd’s hands curled into fists.
“Are you okay with that?” Lewd asked, voice shaking.
Ace’s eyes snapped to her.
“No.”
The answer came too fast to be a lie.
Ace looked away again.
“But I’m looking for something,” she added, quieter. “More than what she’s offering.”
Lenora caught the shift.
“What?”
Ace’s gaze stayed forward.
“I’m not saying it,” Ace replied.
Lewd’s breath hitched.
Lewd turned slightly toward Lenora, voice smaller.
“Lenora…”
Lenora’s attention shifted to her immediately.
Lewd’s eyes were wet now, and she hated that they were.
“What was Derpy like,” Lewd asked, “when you first met him?”
Lenora’s expression softened.
Lewd’s voice broke.
“Has he changed for the better… or the worst?”
She wiped at her face like she could erase the question.
“I keep thinking,” Lewd whispered, “if I was stronger, maybe he wouldn’t have to carry it. All of it. By himself.”
Lenora stepped closer.
Lewd tried to hold herself together.
Failed.
Tears slipped anyway.
“I want to get stronger,” Lewd said. “So I can support him. So he doesn’t have to bear the weight alone.”
Lenora’s throat tightened.
Lewd stared at the ground.
“And that sinister side…” Lewd’s hands trembled. “Is that him? Or is it him hiding a darker personality?”
Lenora didn’t answer fast.
Because the truth was complicated.
Lewd kept going, like if she stopped she’d choke.
“I don’t care what he turns into,” Lewd said. “I don’t care if he becomes something scary.”
Her voice cracked again.
“I just don’t want to lose him.”
She pressed her palm to her chest like it hurt there.
“He’s the only thing I have going for me,” Lewd whispered. “Even if he doesn’t accept my feelings… I still want to be close.”
Lenora reached out.
Pulled Lewd in.
Not romantic.
Not awkward.
Just firm, like a big sister pulling a little sister back from the edge.
“You’re not alone,” Lenora said. “You have me.”
Lewd shook, trying to breathe.
“You have Vespera,” Lenora continued. “And you have his pets.”
Mia lifted her head at her name.
Sphinx’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t object.
Lenora looked down at Lewd.
“And you have Derpy,” Lenora said. “Even when he’s a mess. Even when he’s scared. Even when he doesn’t know how to say what he means.”
Lewd’s shoulders trembled.
Lenora held her anyway.
Ace watched them with a look that wasn’t gentle.
It was disgust.
Not at them.
At the softness itself.
Ace clicked her tongue.
“Why waste time,” Ace muttered. “If you want someone, you take them.”
Lenora’s head turned sharply.
Lewd blinked, still crying.
Ace’s expression stayed blunt.
“We female dragons take the mate we want,” Ace said. “Through combat.”
Lewd’s tears stalled mid-fall.
“…What?” Lewd croaked.
Ace shrugged like it was obvious.
“A female challenges a male,” Ace said. “If she wins, he’s hers for the season.”
Lewd’s face went red.
Lenora’s voice turned cold.
“That’s not how things work here.”
Ace’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s law.”
“It’s dragon law,” Lenora corrected. “And we’re not in dragon territory.”
Ace’s wings twitched.
Lenora didn’t back down.
“Out here,” Lenora said, “both people choose. If they want to be together, they choose it. No one gets claimed because they lost a fight.”
Ace stared at Lenora like she was deciding whether to respect her or bite her.
Lenora held the stare.
Then Lenora looked back toward the capital lights.
“We’re getting him back,” Lenora said. “All of him.”
Mia stood slowly.
Walked closer to Lewd.
Pressed her head gently against Lewd’s leg.
Lewd stilled.
Sphinx jumped down beside them.
His eyes narrowed toward the capital lights.
Inside his mind:
He told us to protect her.
Mia’s tail swished once.
We do.
Sphinx’s ears angled toward the wind.
And when it’s time?
Mia’s gaze sharpened.
We run.
Lenora turned back to Ace.
“How do you know he’s alive?”
Ace’s wings folded slowly.
“If he wasn’t,” she said quietly, “I’d feel it.”
No one asked how.
And far inside the castle—
Derpy shifted in his sleep.
Mia suddenly lifted her head.
Sphinx’s eyes narrowed.
The thread tightened.
Not broken.
Tight.