One year ago, Skyreach City, Silver Dragon King’s Palace.
Olivia stood in front of the mirror, feeling like a wrapped gift.
The reflection showed a silver-haired, silver-eyed girl wearing a strapless white gown.
The skirt dragged to her ankles, the fabric so thin it was almost transparent, shimmering with a pearlescent luster under the light.
Her shoulders were covered, but the design at her chest was a direct challenge to the last shreds of male dignity she had left.
The neckline was too low.
Low enough that when she looked down, she could see the line forced between her breasts.
“Your Highness, please don’t move.”
The maid behind her was adjusting the hem.
Olivia tried to pull the neckline up, but the maid immediately pressed her hand down.
“Her Majesty personally chose this style. Please keep it as is.”
Olivia gave up.
Today was her “first” birthday.
More precisely, it was the one-year anniversary of Astrid turning her into Olivia.
The Silver Dragon Queen had designated this day as her birthday and decided to hold a banquet.
Olivia’s reaction at the time was, “Can I skip it?”
Astrid smiled and replied, “No.”
So she was shoved into this strapless gown.
The banquet hall was on the top floor of the Silver Dragon King’s Palace.
The dome was crafted from a single piece of frost crystal, and moonlight poured through it, spreading silver-white patches across the floor.
Long tables lined the hall, piled high with food and drink, and the mingling pressure of draconic aura made it hard to breathe.
Olivia stood beside Astrid, a stiff smile plastered on her face.
The Silver Dragon Queen wore a silver-gray gown today, her silver hair loose over her shoulders, the Cold Iron Crown on her head.
One hand rested on Olivia’s shoulder—not heavy, but cold, as if reminding her not to run.
The dragons of various branches came forward in turn.
Representatives of the reds, blues, earth dragons, and black dragons stepped up one after another.
Astrid’s attitude toward each was about the same—polite, distant, aloof.
She was the foremost of the four Dragon Kings, the supreme ruler of the Dragonrest Mountains.
Before her, these branch dragons didn’t even have the right to lift their heads and meet her gaze.
She used to be a dragon slayer.
Now she stood among a crowd of dragons, wearing a strapless gown, introduced as a princess to every guest.
Something in this world had to be wrong.
“Astrid.”
The Red Dragon Queen approached.
Her human form was a tall red-haired woman, her long hair tied high, her brows carrying an air of martial spirit.
Behind her trailed a little girl with red hair, twin ponytails bouncing, looking around idly with boredom.
“Ignix.”
Astrid’s tone warmed noticeably.
The Red Dragon Queen grabbed a glass of wine from a passing servant and downed half of it in one gulp, her movements so bold they utterly clashed with her status.
Astrid watched her drink, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly—the closest thing to a “genuine smile” Olivia had ever seen on the Silver Dragon Queen’s face.
“Is this your little girl?”
The Red Dragon Queen glanced down at Olivia, her red pupils scanning her from head to toe, then stopping at her chest.
“She’s grown quickly.”
Olivia felt the temperature of her face rise.
Astrid didn’t mind.
She had already pulled the Red Dragon Queen aside to chat.
The two talked about the situation in the North, the movements of the black dragon branch, and the human dragon-hunting squads, their tone like two CEOs in a board meeting.
No one paid attention to Olivia.
She took a step back.
Astrid didn’t react.
She took another step.
The Silver Dragon Queen was laughing with the Red Dragon Queen, her silver hair swaying gently with the laughter.
It was an expression Olivia had never seen on her face in these two years—a relaxed, equal exchange with her own kind.
Olivia turned and slipped through the gaps in the crowd.
Outside the banquet hall was a long corridor, the walls inlaid with frost crystal that emitted a faint blue glow.
The corridor was empty; all the servants were busy in the hall.
Olivia walked all the way to the corner at the end of the corridor before stopping.
She leaned against the wall and let out a long breath.
The strapless gown was squeezing her chest, making it hard to breathe.
She tried to pull the neckline up again, but it wouldn’t budge.
The fabric seemed welded in place.
“What a stupid dress.”
Around the corner was a secluded terrace.
Olivia picked up her skirt and walked over, sitting down on the stone railing.
From here, she could see the layered mountain ranges below Skyreach City, the moonlight outlining the peaks in silver.
She used to kill dragons. Now she had become one.
“What am I even doing here?”
Footsteps broke the silence.
Olivia jumped down from the railing and turned around.
Three figures came from the end of the corridor.
The one in front was about fifteen or sixteen, in human form, blue hair combed into a meticulous slick-back, wearing a deep blue formal suit.
The other two followed behind, also blue-haired, clearly his lackeys.
“Well, well.”
The blue-haired boy stopped at the entrance to the terrace, hands in his suit pockets, tilting his head to size up Olivia.
“If it isn’t Her Highness the Princess. Why are you alone here?”
“I want to be alone. Please leave.”
Olivia’s voice was calm, but her fingers gripping the skirt tightened.
The blue-haired boy didn’t leave.
He took a step forward, and his two lackeys shuffled closer behind him.
“Being alone is so boring.”
He smiled, the expression greasy in the moonlight, like a smear of lard.
“Come on, how about a few drinks with the young master?”
Olivia looked at his face and felt her stomach turn.
“Disgusting.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly in the empty terrace.
The blue-haired boy’s smile froze for a moment.
“Hmph.”
He dropped the smile, his eyes turning cold.
“Just because your mother is the queen, you think you’re above everyone?”
He took two steps forward, stopping less than three steps away from Olivia.
Olivia stepped back half a step, her back hitting the stone railing.
The blue-haired boy reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Olivia’s arm tensed instantly.
Those fingers clamped around her wrist like five cold snakes wrapping around her.
“Let go.” Her voice came through gritted teeth.
“Does the boss have a crush on the princess?”
One lackey jeered from behind.
The blue-haired boy snorted.
“A crush?”
He rolled the words around, then turned back, looking down at Olivia with cold blue pupils.
“As if.”
His fingers tightened further.
“A daughter of unknown origin—who knows which shameless female dragon mated with some lowly race to produce this bastard—”
He paused, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.
“—she’s not even fit to be my mistress.”
The two lackeys burst into exaggerated laughter.
She wanted to fight back.
Her hand was already clenched into a fist.
But this was the Silver Dragon Queen’s banquet.
The bastard in front of her was the son of the Blue Dragon King.
If she started a fight here, Astrid would definitely blame her.
So she just stood there, her wrist gripped, listening to those words.
The blue-haired boy reached out with his other hand, grabbed Olivia’s chin, and tilted her face toward the moonlight.
“The face is pretty enough. The Silver Dragon race does have better looks than the other branches.”
His thumb rubbed against her chin.
“Too bad she’s a half-breed.”
“That’s right, that’s right.”
One lackey stepped closer.
“Boss, this kind of merchandise, just use her and throw her away. The Silver Dragon Queen won’t go to war with the Blue Dragon clan over a mongrel.”
“Makes sense.”
The blue-haired boy looked down at Olivia.
“So, Princess? How about a few drinks with the young master? If I’m in a good mood, maybe I’ll let you off easy—”
“Let Her Go!!!”
A shout exploded from the end of the corridor.
The voice was so loud that even the wind on the terrace seemed to pause for a moment.
The blue-haired boy turned around.
A red figure was charging at an incredible speed.
Two twin ponytails streamed behind her like straight lines, her red pupils burning like twin flames in the moonlight.
Prunier.
She reached the terrace entrance and kicked one of the lackeys out of the way.
The lackey flew, slammed into the wall, and slid down motionless.
Before the other lackey could react, Prunier smashed her elbow into his face.
The sound of his nasal bone cracking was as crisp as snapping a carrot.
The blue-haired boy released Olivia’s wrist and turned around.
The frivolous expression on his face was finally gone, replaced by an indignant anger.
“Prunier, are you crazy? Do you know who I am—”
“Of course I know who you are.”
Prunier stood before him, a full head shorter but completely dominating him in presence.
Her red ponytails swayed slightly behind her, like two burning fuses.
“The second son of the Blue Dragon King, Cedric Lanyuan.”
She pronounced the name syllable by syllable, as if reading out a death sentence.
“Always loitering around Skyreach City, bullying people because your father is the Blue Dragon King. Last time, you picked on a new recruit from the Earth Dragon clan in the training ground. The time before, you harassed a maid from the Black Dragon clan in the city—”
She stepped forward, and Cedric stepped back.
“—And now you dare to touch the Silver Dragon Princess? Do you think your life is too long?”
Cedric’s face turned the color of pig liver.
He pointed a finger at Prunier, its tip trembling.
“You—what right does a Red Dragon clan member have to interfere with me? I am the Blue Dragon King’s son! You’re nothing but a dog under the Red Dragon Queen—”
He didn’t finish.
Prunier’s fist had already planted itself on his face.
The punch came from below, landing solidly on his chin.
Cedric’s head snapped back, his entire body lifted off the ground, and he crashed heavily onto the stone floor of the terrace.
Prunier didn’t stop.
She climbed on top of him and rained down punch after punch.
Her red ponytails whipped violently with each swing, and the moonlight cast her small shadow on the wall like a beast tearing into its prey.
“Let’s see you act tough!”
With the last punch, Cedric’s face was unrecognizable.
Olivia stood by the railing, her back still pressed against the cold stone.
She was watching Prunier.
That red-haired, twin-tailed girl was straddling a Blue Dragon boy half a head taller than her, beating his face bloody with her fists, cursing nonstop, from Cedric’s ancestors eighteen generations back to his descendants eighteen generations forward.
Cedric couldn’t even groan anymore, but he still muttered through his swollen lips.
“You… you bastards… just wait…”
Prunier grabbed his collar and yanked him up.
“Wait for what?”
Cedric’s face was swollen like a pig’s head, one eye already shut.
But he still twisted his mouth into a distorted grin.
“You… and that mongrel princess… when the Blue Dragon clan… when I inherit the Blue Dragon King’s throne… I’ll take both of you as concubines… then we’ll see if you still—”
Prunier’s knee drove into his stomach.
Cedric curled up like a boiled shrimp.
Just then, a massive blue shadow swept over from the end of the corridor.
It moved so fast the air cracked.
The Blue Dragon King.
A tall middle-aged man, blue hair loose over his shoulders.
His left hand grabbed Prunier by the scruff of her neck, lifting her like a kitten, while his right hand seized Cedric’s shoulder and pulled his son up.
As soon as Cedric saw his father, his expression shifted.
“Father! It was her—the Red Dragon clan attacked first! I just said a few words to the princess, and she—”
The Blue Dragon King said nothing.
He released Prunier, then backhanded Cedric across the face.
The slap was so loud it could be heard in the banquet hall at the end of the corridor.
Cedric spun half a turn and slammed into a stone pillar on the terrace.
A cut split open at the corner of his mouth, blood dripping down his chin.
“Disgraceful piece of trash.”
Cedric covered his face and didn’t dare make a sound.
The Blue Dragon King turned and bowed slightly toward the corridor.
The Silver Dragon Queen stood at the entrance.
The Red Dragon Queen stood beside her.
The Red Dragon Queen’s lips were slightly curled, as if holding back a laugh; Astrid’s face showed no expression, her silver pupils as calm as stagnant water.
But Olivia saw something in those silver eyes she had never seen on Astrid’s face before.
Cold.
Not the usual aloof, distant cold—it was a cold that could drop the temperature of all Skyreach City by three degrees.
“Your Majesty.”
The Blue Dragon King remained in his bowing posture.
“My poor parenting has allowed my son to disturb the Princess. The Blue Dragon clan will take responsibility for this.”
Astrid didn’t look at him.
She walked past the Blue Dragon King, past Prunier, past Cedric slumped against the pillar with his hand on his face, and stopped in front of Olivia.
Then she crouched down, her silver eyes level with Olivia’s.
“Olivia, are you hurt?”
Astrid’s voice was very soft, soft enough that only Olivia could hear.
“I’m fine.” Olivia shook her head.
Astrid reached out and straightened Olivia’s rumpled gown.
The movements were slow, meticulous.
Then she stood up and pulled Olivia into her arms.
Holding Olivia, she turned around, her silver pupils sweeping over the Blue Dragon King, over Cedric, over the two Blue Dragon lackeys cowering in the corner.
“Blue Dragon King.”
Her voice was calm.
“Your son had better not appear in Skyreach City again.”
A thin layer of sweat broke out on the Blue Dragon King’s forehead.
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
He grabbed Cedric by the collar and dragged him away.
The two lackeys scrambled to follow.
The corridor fell silent.
The Red Dragon Queen walked over and patted Astrid on the shoulder.
The two exchanged a glance Olivia couldn’t decipher.
“I’ll go check on that girl Prunier,” the Red Dragon Queen said.
Prunier was standing at the edge of the terrace, shaking blood off her hands.
When she saw her mother wave, she trudged over reluctantly.
Olivia lifted her head from Astrid’s shoulder, her gaze passing over the silver strands to look at Prunier.
Prunier was looking back at her.
Their eyes met in midair.
Then Prunier turned and followed the Red Dragon Queen away.
Her red ponytails bobbed behind her, soon disappearing into the shadows at the end of the corridor.
Olivia remembered that gaze.
Remembered that name.
Prunier.
Three months later.
The Silver Dragon King’s Palace garden.
Olivia sat in the shade of a silver-leaf tree, a book spread across her lap.
The Red Dragon Queen had come to visit Astrid again today, and Prunier had come along.
She didn’t know what to say.
“Thank you”?
Too light.
“You were so cool that day”? Too stupid.
While she was rehearsing the thirty-seventh opening line in her head, a pair of hands reached from behind and landed precisely on her chest.
Then squeezed once.
Olivia shot up, the book flying from her hands, her back hitting the trunk of the silver-leaf tree.
Her silver pupils contracted instantly, and her hands reflexively covered her chest.
Prunier was crouching where Olivia had been sitting, her hands still in the squeezing position, red ponytails swaying smugly behind her head.
“Y-You—” Olivia’s voice cracked.
“What are you doing!!!”
Prunier withdrew her hands, looked down at her own chest, then looked up and at Olivia’s chest.
She let out a sigh full of resentment.
“She’s younger than me,” she said.
“And she’s still bigger than me.”
Olivia’s face turned from silver-white to pink, then from pink to crimson.
“What—what are you talking about!!!”
“I’m stating facts.”
Prunier stood up with perfect confidence, hands on her hips.
“I noticed it on the terrace last time. Your dress was so full in the front—my eyes aren’t blind.”
She reached out and poked Olivia’s chest.
Olivia shrank back another inch.
“Not fair.”
Prunier pouted.
“I’m older than you—I mean in age. Why did you grow first?”
“That’s not something I can control!!!”
Prunier stared at her for two seconds, then burst out laughing.
“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re flustered.”
She held out a hand to Olivia.
“I’ve wanted to say this since the terrace. The way you stood your ground even when cornered and refused to say anything soft—that took guts.”
Olivia looked at the outstretched hand.
The red pupils reflected the dappled light of the silver-leaf tree; the twin ponytails swayed gently in the breeze.
The girl’s face bore a broad, unreserved smile.
She hesitated.
Then she took the hand.
It was nice to have a friend.