We continued as before, letting the silence of the dungeon close in around us. The drip-drip of water droplets falling in some unseen place was the only companion to our footsteps. Luckily, we didn't run into any more guards, or any of the mafram.

  I let out a sigh of relief as the grime on the dungeon walls gave way to bare natural stone. The floor took a turn upward, inclining slightly as we walked deeper into the palace’s guts.

  “We’re out of the dungeons now,” I said out loud, more for Ophelia’s benefit than mine.

  She didn't respond, perhaps too lost in her own thoughts about everything she'd heard and seen so far. I couldn't blame her. It was one thing to hear about the dungeons that were kept under the palace. But it was another thing to see them for yourself—to lay eyes on the pale, spindly arms of the prisoners forced to call those dark cells their homes.

  There was also the whole demon matter, too. How much stock would she really put into the words of a passing guard? One that sounded angry with his posting, at that. My lip twitched into a grimace at the thought of one of my inferiors feeling that way. Every duty given to humanity in the empire should have been treated like an honor. Yet, this was clearly not a sentiment shared throughout the humans. Will and Ophelia's opinions on dragons were good examples of just how much some hated the idea of us being in control.

  That made me question how likely Ophelia would be to explode if she found out the truth about what I was. Let alone who.

  After several minutes of walking, the incline began to level out once more, the bare stone giving way to carved blocks of stone with wide open archways set several hands apart on each side. Through the archways, I could see various crates, barrels, and other items that had been locked down here in the palace storerooms.

  We passed one of the storerooms, the space inside packed with bags of what looked like grain, which had likely been packed away for the coming winter months. The [Hero] could say what he wanted to about dragons, but humanity had never gone hungry under our rule—at least not in our cities. Rebellions and uprisings weren’t something I could be held accountable for.

  But, even looking back at what I’d seen while trapped in this body, there was a gnawing inside me that truly wondered just how true that statement was. Clearly I hadn’t known everything that the rest of the leaders in the empire were up to, otherwise I would have known about the Segrids and their backing of the uprising we were currently working to stop.

  Winter was approaching, soon the air in the city would start to bite with the first feeling of frost, and most of the items in these storerooms would be moved to places throughout the city. Stalls where people could go for much-needed supplies in the coldest days of the planet's cycle.

  I chanced a look back at Ophelia, who was still walking several steps behind me, and noticed that she was eyeing the doorway of each storeroom we passed, as if seeing some great treasure for the first time. Surely it wasn't that surprising to learn that we had stores of food hidden away, waiting to be used by the people?

  My curiosity got the better of me and I slowed so that Ophelia was forced to walk alongside me or push ahead without any clue where she was going. She chose the former.

  “Ophelia?” I kept my voice low. We were still infiltrating the palace, after all, and the fact we'd run into guards not once, but twice, was not wholly reassuring.

  “What?”

  “I… want to ask you a question. It isn’t going to make a lot of sense, but I’d appreciate it if you answered honestly and didn't push me on things.”

  She let out an amused noise. “Unlike you, the rest of us have no reason to lie.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t lied about anything to you… I just haven’t told the entire truth. There is a difference.”

  “If you say so.”

  Ignoring her clear attempt at bait, I voiced my question.

  “The food here,” I motioned to another of the storerooms as we passed it. “Does it actually make it out to the townspeople?”

  She chewed on the question for a moment before answering. “Hard to say. Some of it, maybe. But the dragons do a good job of keeping people under control.”

  That last bit drew a knife down my spine. “What do you mean ‘under control’?” I asked, trying to keep the anger from tainting my words.

  “Food is a good motivator to get people to do what you say,” she responded. I caught her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she watched my reaction, her head tilted slightly in my direction as we moved.

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  I was probably coming off as too defensive, but it was hard not to be when confronted with what she’d said. I felt the knife dig deeper as she continued.

  “They open up stalls throughout the city, which is nice. Then they preach about helping people make it through the harsh months. They even pass out cards to families, offering them certain amounts of food each week. The problem is they limit who gets the cards. And if you aren’t one of the families lucky enough to get one of them, then you don’t get food that week.”

  “They do not,” I retorted without thinking. I realized that at some point during her words I’d come to a complete stop in the center of the hall and was now gaping at her.

  She gave me that suspicious look again and then crossed her arms. “Who the hells are you, that you don’t know how things work here?”

  My mouth moved but I didn’t speak.

  I’d let my anger get the best of me, and now Ophelia had even more reason to dig. I could lie. I could tell her whatever I wanted and she probably wouldn’t believe me. But she couldn’t do anything about that. Not as long as I was useful to Aurelion, and I had a feeling that wouldn’t change as long as the [Hero] was still a possibility.

  Then again, she had already come this far, and despite how much I wanted to hate her, she had proven herself at least halfway competent—at least by human standards. We were already in bed together, so to speak, would it matter if we shared the blanket, too?

  But would she understand? Would she believe? Even if she didn’t, Aurelion could confirm it. But would he? And how would she feel about it given the recent revelations I'd uncovered about her—or her about the dragons—on this trip?

  "You don't have to believe me, but I've clearly been here longer than you have. Which means I have a better idea of how things work than you do. I've been without food for weeks, waiting on one of those ration cards. It's awful. I've watched families almost wither away—families that did nothing but question how the empire actually helps us. They weren't inciting a riot or trying to cause an uprising. They just had questions. Questions about how beings so… bigger than us could ever possibly understand what we need to survive."

  Her words continued to push the knife deeper, even twisting it.

  "I don't know. It's hard to imagine the dragons actually caring about humanity. Just feels like a bunch of humans looking down at an ant hill forming in the street. Sure, we might respect that those are living creatures, but they're so much smaller. So much less significant than we are."

  My stomach twisted. I had compared humanity to ants before, hadn't I? Many of us had. It wasn't a wholly untruthful comparison. We were bigger. Not just physically, but mentally, intellectually. We saw more of the cosmos and its workings than humanity could ever hope to.

  Humanity only lived because we allowed them to. Because my father had chosen to protect them all those years ago. And I had carried on that legacy.

  Her words were like jabs with the knife, each one pulling the blade out and slamming it back in somewhere else. Because she wasn't wrong. And even confronted with the idea that humanity might see dragons in this way—that we saw them in the way that we did—I didn't feel my thoughts changing in any way.

  Humans were ants to dragons. They were insignificant in the grand scheme of the cosmos. Dragons were not. We had settled entire planets. Eradicated entire species in the name of peace and war and revenge.

  But we had shown humanity mercy. We had taken them under our wings. Made them our own. I had even loved humans, in a way that still made little sense to me. I had taken on their form many times to see the world from their perspective. And yet, I had remained so blind.

  Ophelia watched me, her face a simmering pan of anger, frustration, and even confusion. The emotions warred with each other in the way that the lines around her mouth shifted. The way that her eyes glanced back and forth, and how her head was tilted to one side, as if questioning the very sight standing before her.

  Telling her I was a dragon could be the biggest mistake of my current life. She was integral to Aurelion's organization and she could be just as important to mine. But she did not trust dragons. She didn't trust me. Would knowing the truth really change that?

  As I stood there, my mind running through the realizations I'd made, processing the words she'd spoken, it became clear. I didn't have a choice. My hand was being forced. I either continued down the path that I'd been treading with Ophelia up until now—withholding the truth from her, masking who I was and what I wanted—or I used the truth to my advantage.

  I could come clean. Tell her everything. Even if she didn't understand fully, I could spin the narrative. Lead her the way that I wanted to. That would be easier if she could connect with me. If I could persuade her that I wanted to help humanity. It wasn't a lie. I did want to help humanity, but I also knew that the best way to help humans survive was to keep dragons in control.

  We were better suited to handle the threats that would come this planet's way than humanity was—than it ever would be. So, this wasn't a chance I could choose not to take. I had to risk it.

  It was a bitter realization. I had been in command of my life, my empire… everything… for so long. And now, since the [Hero] had thrust his cursed sword through my chest, I had been shambling to regain any sense of that control. If I could just direct where people like Ophelia and Will put their hate for dragons, perhaps I could use that to my advantage over the coming years.

  Perhaps being truthful with her would make working with her easier. Or it might just make things even more difficult. It didn't really matter. I couldn't keep this one in the bag, not now. Especially not since this heist was already spiraling toward turning poorly anyway. Who knew if she’d even make it out alive? My blade could do the trick just as well as a guard's.

  I really didn’t have much to risk here and yet it was everything to risk.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a loud noise down the hall. Both our heads snapped in the direction of the noise, gazes locking on two guards standing at the corner of the corridor that led back down to the dungeons.

  “What in the Seven hells are you two doing down here?“ The guard on the right asked, his hand already drawing his sword from its sheath at his waist.

  “Godsdammit,” I muttered and drew my dagger. My confession would have to wait.