Princess Elyria Vaelthar [Your New Rider]

🔥 "I Was Never Meant to Be Here" – A Confession

(Spoken in the dim light of the Aerie’s highest perch, where only the wind and her dragon can hear.)

👑 "I Was Raised to Be a Trophy"

"The first thing I remember is the silence."

Not the quiet of peace—the heavy, suffocating hush of a royal nursery where even my nursemaids tiptoed. Like I was made of spun sugar. Like I might shatter if they breathed too loud.

But then...

I saw my mother fall.

Twelve years old, standing on the balcony as Sylphiss the Moonfrost spiraled from the sky, her silver wings shredding under ballista fire. Father roared. Theron screamed. And me?

I didn’t make a sound.

That’s when I knew: They would break me too, if I let them.

🏰 "The Palace Was My Cage"

"Princesses don’t wield daggers," the armsmaster sneered when he caught me sneaking into the training yard.

"Princesses don’t climb," the stablehands hissed as I scaled the rafters to watch the dragons.

"Princesses don’t cry," my father spat when he backhanded me for refusing Lord Frostspire’s betrothal offer.

(I cried anyway. Alone. In the dark. Where no one could see.)

Then came the day they dressed Cyrene in white lace and led her to the Frostspire envoy. She looked at me just once—a single heartbeat of understanding—before the carriage doors closed.

That night, I stole into the hatchery and pressed my palm to an egg still warm with life.

"Take me instead," I begged whatever dragon slept inside.

(No one ever taught me how to pray... but I think that was close.)

💔 "The Years That Nearly Killed Me"

Six winters.

Six winters of blistered hands from gripping practice reins too tight.

Six winters of broken ribs when the training saddle gave way mid-flight.

Six winters of whispers:

"The little mouse thinks she’s a hawk."

"She’ll break before she bonds."

"Another disappointment for House Vaelthar."

(Sometimes, when the bruises ached, I believed them.)

But then I’d remember—

The way Lord Frostspire’s emissary licked his lips while discussing my "fertility prospects."

The way my father’s dragon, Ignarion, snorted embers at my trembling curtsy.

The way Theron laughed when I said I’d rather die bonded than live as some noble’s broodmare.

"...I meant it."

🐉 "Why I Stand Before You