Barely a fortnight after the queen had jumped to her death, the king was married again. He was bound into a loveless marriage, but it was only because the burns on his face were hideous, fitting his secret crime.
But soon after, they found the bodies. Most of them were soldiers, with burns as disgusting as the kings, but the king simply doubled the watches. When the rest of those guards and the queen had been burnt to death, the king stood at his balcony, waiting for the attacker to show himself.
But out of the Ancient Forest cane a rustling. And than the killers came.
Silent as a snowy owl, the dragons flew out of the trees, rising to the tower. And about ten feet away hovered a majestic silver dragon with eyes like the sun and a fur parcel on her back. The pile of furs quivered and gracefully unfolded itself. The dragon rose, displaying the white scar tissue on her chest as the last queen stood upon her dragon, and with a vicious scream, the reign of King Brendan IV was over.
