Chapter 34 Elaina
ELAINA
The Queen’s voice is like a blade—cold, precise and laced with venom.
“—or you’ll never amount to anything, Dorian—not with a Drake barely the size of a small cottage. Be honest, my son—your Drake doesn’t even breathe flame. That’s why we need your older brother. So no, I will not give the order to kill him.”
I freeze, pressing myself into the shadows behind the velvet tapestry as her words slither through the air.
I’d been about to turn and sneak back the way I came—my fingers still tingling from the weight of the iron key I just dropped into the pouch and rehung on the ornate sconce above the hearth. But the sound of her voice stops me cold.
They’re here—closer than I thought. My heart thunders. I barely dare to breathe.
The chamber beyond is a study in cruel beauty.
Black velvet drapes hang heavy as mourning veils, trimmed in blood-red satin.
Mirrors framed in gold line the walls—warped reflections stare back at me like cruel eyes.
The fire crackles low in the hearth, casting flickering light across the polished obsidian floor tiles.
Everything in this room feels like it was designed to intimidate, to consume.
Just like the woman who owns it.
“I don’t want him around when I ascend the throne , Mother,” Prince Dorian snaps, his petulant voice rising. “I want him gone. You must give the order to kill him!”
“Don’t be an idiot.” The Queen’s tone is sharp. “Without Xaren’s Drake, our borders will fall. Do you think your mewling little lizard will protect us when the western baronies rise again? When the kingdoms to our South return for vengeance?”
“I could do it,” Dorian insists. “If you’d just—”
“No,” she cuts him off. “You couldn’t. Your Drake isn’t strong enough. Your brother is the Kingdom’s shield—whether he likes it or not.”
They’re walking deeper into the room now, and I hear the soft rustle of her skirts against the stone floor—layers upon layers of fine brocade and stiff netting. My stomach drops as I realize they’re heading straight toward the hearth.
No, no, no—
I creep away from the fireplace, finally making it back to the wall. If I can just hide behind the tapestry, I’ll be all right. I slide behind the heavy fold of fabric, trying not to sneeze from the dust.
I’m almost there. I curse myself for not taking the heavy iron key with me, but I know if the Queen had caught me with it I would have lost a hand—or worse. Maybe I can just stay here in the secret passage until she leaves again and then go get it. But first, I have to get to safety.
Slowly, carefully, I begin to edge toward the secret panel. If I can just—
My heel scuffs the stone—the tiniest sound. A whisper…a breath.
“What was that?” Dorian’s voice slices the air.
Before I can move, the tapestry is ripped aside and I’m caught in a spill of firelight, blinking up at them like a cornered rabbit.
“You,” the Queen says, eyes narrowing to slits. “Of course.”
She doesn’t even look surprised. Just…annoyed. Like I’m a bit of mud on the hem of her gown.
Dorian grabs me roughly by the arm and hauls me into the center of the room.
“You filthy little thief,” he snarls, his hand tightening painfully. “What were you trying to steal, hmm? Something pretty to hawk at market before you ran away? Or were you looking for the key to your precious monster’s collar?”
I say nothing. My heart is racing, my mouth dry. I can feel the Queen’s gaze stripping me bare.
Dorian shoves me against the edge of the Queen’s vast marble vanity, hard enough to bruise me, and begins to paw at me with rough hands.
“Stop it!” I twist away, but he’s stronger and furious.
His hands are everywhere—grabbing, probing, forcing their way down my bodice like he thinks I’ve hidden an expensive necklace or a priceless brooch between my breasts.
His fingers pinch and bruise as he yanks at my gown, tearing the delicate lace.
“She’s got nothing,” he snarls finally, disgusted.
He wipes his hands on his trousers, as though touching me has made them dirty.
“But I’d wager she was going to.” His lip curls.
“The nasty little thing was doubtless hoping to steal something from your jewelry box, Mother. Sell it and run off to be with her beast.”
My skin crawls. I want to slap him—to scream at him. But I know if I fight, this will only go worse for me. Still, I must speak up for myself.
“I wasn’t trying to steal anything!” At least, I wasn’t trying to steal any jewelry, which was what Dorian accused me of.
The Queen watches, unbothered. Her hands are folded over one another, the many rings on her long fingers glinting in the firelight.
“Well?” she says finally, voice like poisoned honey. “Speak, girl. If you weren’t trying to steal from me, what exactly were you doing skulking around my chambers?”
I swallow, my throat thick with bile and humiliation.
“I…” I lick my lips. “I came to speak to Your Majesty.”
Her eyebrow arches.
“Speak to me? Uninvited?” she demands, her lip curling.
“I didn’t think you’d grant me an audience,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “So I— I had to try.”
“Try what?” she snaps, her patience clearly wearing thin.
I take a deep breath and look her in the eye.
“To ask you to let me see Xaren. Please—I know he’s in the dungeon, and I know you’ve collared him. But I can feel—feel—that he’s wasting away. Locking up his Drake…it’s killing him. You’ll lose him if this goes on much longer.”
She lets out a harsh laugh.
“Don’t be melodramatic. If he dies, he dies. That’s his choice.”
“But it’s not just him,” I insist. “His Drake—it’s a part of him. Like his soul. If you keep them separated too long, they’ll both die. Is that what you want? The only living heir with a Drake big enough to protect the Kingdom, dead by your own command?”
She opens her mouth, clearly ready to scold me again—but I cut her off before I lose my nerve.
“Also, I had my courses. Two weeks ago,” I blurt.
There’s a silence but it feels sharp…angry.
“What did you say?” the Queen demands at last, her voice suddenly low and dangerous.
“I said…” I draw myself up, shoulders trembling. “I’m not pregnant. I had my monthly blood. You told me it might take more than once. So how am I supposed to give you an heir if you won’t even let me see my husband?”
She narrows her eyes at me, assessing…calculating.
“Two weeks ago,” she murmurs. “Then you must be ripe again.” She straightens. “Well. I suppose we can’t waste a breeding window.”
Dorian recoils. “You can’t seriously be considering—”
“I’m not discussing this with you,” she snaps. “If you won’t breed an heir into her, someone must.”
She snaps her fingers and one of her ladies-in-waiting—a pale, fidgety woman with eyes like a frightened doe—runs forward.
“Run for the Court Physician and tell him to bring me the fertility brew,” she orders. “And make it strong. The girl needs to be primed and ready before she’s sent down to the dungeons.”
My stomach turns to lead.
“What…what’s the fertility brew?” I ask, my voice shaking.
The Queen smiles, and it’s not kind.
“Just a little something to make sure your time together is productive. You should be honored, really—I’m giving you another chance. But make no mistake—if you fail me again, I’ll have your husband gelded and kept in chains. Perhaps then he’ll be more obedient.”
My blood runs cold. How can I be sure I’ll get pregnant? Even with this fertility brew, whatever it is.
“But—” I begin.
The Queen turns and sweeps from the room, ignoring me. Dorian trails behind her like an angry shadow, throwing one last loathing look over his shoulder at me.
“Stay with her,” he orders one of the guards. “Be certain she doesn’t steal anything. In fact, put her someplace safe.”
The guard steps forward, taking my arm in one rough hand.
“Come on,” he growls, yanking me away from the Queen’s main bedchamber.
There’s nothing I can do now but go with him. I stumble to keep up with his long stride. I’m trembling, fists clenched at my sides, praying I can survive whatever is coming next.
What else can I do?