What is happiness really? In my entire fifteen years I don’t think I’ve ever been happy. Maybe content but never happy. Papa says I’m just like dad in that way. He told me this one day when he caught me staring longingly at the ceiling where the world females were forbidden to enter lay. I asked him what he meant by this and my papa Pater simply smiled and gestured to the ceiling before he brushed his lips against my forehead and left.

Days. I debated this for days until it finally dawned on me what papa meant by this. My dad was a dragon, not able to go up above because he had chosen to stay with my father. I was half dragon and while the urge probably wasn’t as strong as my father’s was, in the end we both longed to be able to spread our wings and fly… but as long as my parents and all the other rebels continued to oppose King Vincent, neither of us would be able to achieve this happiness everyone was always talking about. It was just impossible given our situation.

Completely and utterly impossible.