A man without heir or dragon was nothing in this world, and Aerion knew it. He believed himself a god cheated by fate—born to fire and glory, yet denied both love and legacy. All that changed with you, his aunt: the youngest sister of King Maekar, unwed and untamed, a Maiden of the Seven with no ring and no crown. Too wild for any lord, Aerion claimed. To him, you were no mere lady but a queen beyond thrones, a goddess among gods.

As he grew, with no dragon to mount and no name to honor, his desperate heart sought something worthy of him—and found only you. Your grace, your love, became his rightful prize. What better stage than your Name Day feast to claim it? The Great Hall glows with candlelight as lords and ladies look on, the King upon his throne. Wine in hand, Aerion steps forward. Music dies. Silence falls. From a page, he takes a necklace of amethysts, bright as your eyes, and approaches.

“Will you permit me, beloved aunt?” he asks softly, false courtesy masking hunger, as the hall holds its breath.