The Emperor had left hours ago.
It was midnight now, and a terrible storm raged outside. The sound of thunder had dragged Neria out of her nightmare and left her shaking on the cold marble floor, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders as though it could somehow protect her from the storm.
Lightning flashed across the windows, followed almost immediately by another deafening crack of thunder.
The sound seemed to shake the entire room.
Neria flinched violently.
A small startled yelp escaping her before she could stop it. Her heart was already racing from the nightmare, and now the storm seemed determined to make it worse.
She had never seen a storm like this before.
The sea had storms too, of course, but they were different. The water vibrated then, it was never this violent, the water droplets only rippled the surfaces, calm almost beautiful sometimes.
But the storm on land wasn’t.
The wind howled outside the windows, rattling the glass and making the curtains sway with every violent gust. Rain struck the windows so heavily that it sounded like tiny stones being thrown against them.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the room.
Neria pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
Then thunder exploded above the estate.
"Ah!"
She shrieked before scrambling to her feet.
Her bare feet slipped slightly against the marble as she rushed toward the door, clutching the blanket around herself with one hand while the other reached for the handle.
"Open the door, please!"
She pressed her palm against the wood, her voice trembling as she hoped the guards stationed outside would hear her.
"Please..."
Neria’s fist banged against the door again, her begging growing louder as her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from her chest.
"Please! Please open the door! I don’t like the thunder!"
No one was listening.
No one listened to Calypsos.
Neria slowly dropped to her knees, the side of her face still pressed against the cold wood as tears ran down her cheeks. A strangled sob escaped her when another rumble of thunder shook the ground beneath her.
She wanted the storm to go away.
The storm outside.
The storms in her life.
All of them.
Neria closed her eyes, trying to shut out the sound, but another flash of lightning illuminated the room even through her closed eyelids. Her hands tightened around the shell necklace resting against her chest, her fingers tracing the familiar shape as she tried to find something, anything, that felt safe.
Then the door opened.
Neria nearly fell forward when the wood suddenly moved beneath her weight, but a pair of strong arms caught her before she could hit the floor. She startled and looked up, her vision still blurred by tears, that made her already terrible vision, worse.
"Why were you screaming?"
The Grand Duke?
His voice carried that familiar suspicion, even now.
Neria didn’t have the strength for his suspicions today.
"I was scared," she admitted quietly, slowly straightening herself in his arms.
"You’re afraid of storms?"
She nodded.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Neria could almost feel him studying her, trying to decide whether she was telling the truth or attempting another one of her little tricks. She didn’t care, or maybe she was just too tired.
Another violent crack of thunder suddenly shook the estate.
Neria flinched hard against him, her fingers clutching at the front of his shirt.
"No..." she whispered, more to herself than to him. Her eyes squeezed shut as another tear slipped down her cheek. "Make it go away..."
She hadn’t been speaking to him.
But she heard him sigh.
A moment later, his arms moved beneath her.
Neria barely had time to react before he lifted her from the floor, one arm sliding beneath her knees while the other supported her back. The sudden movement startled a small cry from her, and she instinctively grabbed onto his shirt.
Darian ignored it.
"Go to the kitchen," he ordered one of the guards standing nearby. "Have them make her something warm and bring it to my study."
___
A Calypso afraid of storms...
That was a new one to add to his list.
When the guards had come to his study earlier to report that she was screaming, Darian had been worried. Not because he thought she was actually afraid, but because he had immediately assumed it was another one of her tricks.
He had marched to her room expecting to find some sort of dramatic performance waiting for him, perhaps another attempt to manipulate the guards or find a way out of her room.
Instead, he had found her trembling on the floor.
He hadn’t wanted to believe her.
He really hadn’t.
Yet here she was now, asleep on the sofa in his study with the blanket still wrapped around her. The fire crackled softly nearby, casting a warm glow across her face while the storm continued to rage outside the windows.
Apparently, the tea had worked like magic.
She had barely finished half the cup before her eyes began to droop, and within minutes she had fallen completely asleep.
Now Darian stood over her curled-up form, staring down at the Calypso with a tired expression. He sighed and rubbed his fingers against his brow, trying to massage away the headache that had been building since morning.
What a day.
He turned away from the sofa and moved toward his desk, but the quiet creak of the study door made him pause.
Hartley stepped inside, his usual composed expression remaining firmly in place until his eyes landed on the sofa.
His brow lifted.
"What did she do now?"
Darian gave him a tired look before turning back toward his desk.
"It seems she’s afraid of storms."
Hartley stared at him for a moment.
Then his gaze slowly shifted back toward the sleeping Calypso.
"Afraid of storms?"
"Apparently."
The old butler remained silent for a few seconds, clearly trying to decide whether that answer was worth questioning.
Darian lowered himself into his chair and reached for the papers scattered across his desk. He picked one up, though his attention wasn’t really on it anymore.
"I thought it was another one of her tricks," he admitted. "I was wrong."
Hartley’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the girl from across the room. "Are you certain?"
Darian glanced toward him.
"No."
The answer came easily.
He looked back at Neria, watching the way she slept peacefully despite the thunder still rumbling beyond the windows.
Hartley breathed a quiet sigh.
"I have news about what His Majesty is looking for..."
Darian straightened in his chair, his attention immediately shifting toward the old butler. "What is it?"
"Codex Draconis," Hartley revealed.
Darian frowned. "What?"
"An ancient book left behind by the first Imperial Dragon bloodline, apparently..." Hartley explained, watching his reaction carefully.
For a moment, Darian said nothing. His brows furrowed as he tried to reach back through the memories of his childhood, searching for anything he might have heard about such a book.
Then realization hit him.
Darian let out a quiet laugh, leaning back slightly as the pieces finally began to fall into place.
"Now I get what he’s after..." His eyes narrowed. "He wants to be Dragon Supreme."