Chapter 42
ELAINA
Days pass.
Long, aching, endless days filled with waiting, longing, and silence.
I am allowed to leave my rooms again—providing that I “comport myself with the dignity befitting a Princess” according to the Queen. I think my relative freedom is a nod to the fact that she once again hopes I may be pregnant. But as long as Xaren is locked away, I am not free.
No one in Court even mentions him. Not the servants who come and go from my rooms, not the guards who stand watch at the palace gates, not even the Queen. Especially not the Queen.
But I can’t stop thinking about him.
Every time I close my eyes, I see him—his golden eye glowing faintly in the dark, his voice rough with tenderness, his hands strong yet gentle on my body. The feel of him…the taste of him…the way he looked at me like I was his entire world.
Goddess… please let him be all right.
I try to stay busy, but nothing helps. I pace…I try to sew…I try to read. But nothing holds my attention. My skin feels too tight. My heart is a weight in my chest. What if his Drake is dying right now? What if he’s fading away and taking Xaren with him?
At last, I can’t take it anymore.
I dress in a gown of soft gold silk—nothing provocative this time, nothing red or clingy or sheer. Something elegant and proper and demure. Something that says “respectful wife,” not “rebellious consort.”
And then, I go to her.
Queen Virelda sits in her favorite sun room, near the tall windows where the light streams through stained glass and casts bloody red patterns on the marble floor. Her robes shimmer like black water, her pale hair piled high in ornate coils and pinned with ruby-tipped hair pins shaped like daggers.
She looks up as I enter.
“Well?” Her voice is cool—almost bored. “Come to plead for your prince again? You can save your breath—he’s not been punished enough by half.”
I swallow hard and sink into a deep curtsy.
“Your Majesty, please, I only ask for a moment with him. Just to see him. I need to know that he’s all right.”
Her lip curls in faint amusement.
“You seem quite taken with him. For a girl who was meant to warm the younger prince’s bed, you’ve certainly grown fond of the older, scarred one.”
I straighten slowly.
“He’s my husband. And I love him.”
That gets her attention. Her eyes flash.
“Love,” she says softly, like it’s a word she’s never tasted before. “How quaint.”
I press on.
“Please. You allowed me once—I beg you, let me go to him again.”
She leans back in her velvet chair and taps one finger against the armrest. She gives me a speculative, almost amused look. Then she says, very deliberately,
“No.”
My heart sinks.
“But—”
“I said no, girl.” Her voice is steel now. “You’ve done enough damage, whispering rebellion into his ear and feeding him foolish hopes. You’ve distracted him long enough. Now we wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“For your courses, of course—your monthly blood.”
I blink.
“If you don’t bleed, perhaps you’ve finally served your purpose. But until we know for certain, I see no reason to reward your disobedience with another visit.”
My throat tightens.
“So you’ll keep us apart? Just to punish him?”
“I’ll do what I must to ensure the future of this Kingdom,” she snaps. “And I can’t have my disobedient daughter-in-law sneaking down to the dungeons, giving that beast hope. Hope is dangerous. Hope makes monsters restless.”
“But—”
She dismisses me with a wave of her hand, turning back to her wineglass.
“I’m bored of this conversation. You may go.”
Cold-blooded snake. She’ll leave him down there until he withers away!
I flee the sun room, barely able to keep my composure. I walk stiffly until I’m alone in the far hall…and then I run. I have no plan—only desperation.
But I know what I have to do.