Chapter 6 The Queen
Thalen walked me to the headmaster’s office, where the queen was waiting. He kept pace at my side just like he used to in the Glass Castle, his hand a steady presence at my back, his shoulder brushing mine. For a moment, it almost felt like home again. Like I wasn’t entirely alone.
Somewhere along that quiet corridor, I made him tell me the truth.
Why did Lorik Draventh despise the Solenhart throne?
Suddenly, it all clicked into place. I wasn’t surprised.
Not really. Deep down, I knew the reason: blood had been spilled.
My family was ruthless. My mother was ruthless.
That was the very reason I never wanted the crown.
But I didn’t have the luxury of guilt, not when I was about to stand before her.
I stopped before the headmaster’s door, inhaled once, and pushed it open. The room felt colder than it should have.
My mother stood as judgment incarnate, framed before the tall arched window, sunlight slicing around her like a blade. I hovered at the threshold, the door solid at my back.
It was only the two of us.
Her gold gown flowed like molten sunlight, but every muscle in her face was rigid, eyes burning as if daring me to look away from their blaze.
"You asked the Siren to be in Dragontail Legion, didn’t you?
" she said, her voice low and lethal, barely more than a breath. "You cut your hand like a savage. You bowed to her and smiled when she granted your wish. The court and I have had to do so much to cover these indiscretions, so the whole island doesn’t know the truth.”
My tongue felt heavy, my heart pounding in my throat. I’d thought myself ready, until my mother’s gaze cut the words from me.
Her fury simmered quietly, coiled and controlled. That royal restraint I never mastered. Her gaze dropped to the headmaster’s desk, where today’s paper lay open.
I stepped closer, my stomach tightening as I read the headline:
“Solenhart Called to Dragontail — Trust the Siren, Trust Rionis, Trust the Gods.”
I skimmed the article, and heat rose up my neck. It had erased everything, the way I bowed to the Siren, the way I cut my hand like a Dragontail, the choice that had been entirely mine.
The queen had rewritten it.
My mother and her court did more than clean up a political mess. She forged my rebellion into a beacon, turning Dragontail into a divine sign, no longer a choice claimed in blood.
My truth reshaped into something convenient.
"You’ve been clawing for an escape since you could walk. Since the day you learned the word no," she hissed, stepping closer.
"That’s not fair—"
"I am not done, Thea Solenhart," she bit out. "You never wanted the court. Never wanted the crown. You’ve been hiding behind dramatics and flames since the first time you lit a candle. My deluded mother, your grandmother, and your father fed you too many tales.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides, heat blooming in my chest. She always spoke about them that way.
My grandmother, who had raised me when duty kept my mother away, had been extraordinary.
Her stories had filled every hollow place inside me.
And she spoke about my father more harshly than anyone, and I didn’t know why.
Even after he died, my mother still spoke of him as if he were nothing.
Yes, theirs was an arranged marriage. But he was remarkable. An Emberkeep by placement, yet he trained with Dragontail and fought beside them as Rionis' general. Perhaps she was right; he was why I dreamed of Dragontail.
I fought to steady my voice, swallowing the anger. "I did this for the island. I’ve always wanted to fight for Rionis."
"You are the throne. If you want to help the island, then you rule," she snapped. "You don’t get to choose things for you. We do everything for the island. You didn’t just reject Emberkeep. You humiliated it. You disgraced your station. You made the succession unstable."
"I didn’t ask for this. I’m not meant to rule," I spat.
The silence that followed was louder than any scream.
She pinned me with a look so fierce I winced, my breath catching as if the throne itself shattered beneath me.
"I can see that," she said coldly, walking towards me.
"You are Solenhart. Your blood gives you the right to rule. All Solenharts are Emberkeep. You just had to follow your training. Instead, you stood before judges, professors, and ancient magic itself and declared that you’d rather wield in combat than wear a crown.
You could even die at the Dragontail trials, and you are the only Solenhart that can truthfully claim the throne after me. "
“You don’t care if I die. You only care about the throne!” I snapped.
Her expression didn’t waver. “You know, deep in your heart, that is false, Thea Solenhart.”
“I am not done,” I shot back. “I did wish for Dragontail, but that’s only one-third of the equation.
The Siren and the island destined me for Dragontail.
And apparently, there are Dragontail roots in our heritage, too.
I could have wished for it all I wanted, but if the Siren didn’t think I was worthy of that legion, I wouldn’t have received it. My cousin will be delighted to rule.”
Her voice rose, sharp and unyielding. “You ungrateful child. You think power is earned through disobedience? Through spectacle? You think leadership is about freedom? If your cousin rules, it will be the end of our Kingdom as we know it. Bloodlines are sacred. If they rule, they will destroy the political balance. The lineage shall not be broken.”
"Too late. I’m in Dragontail. I can’t rule. I’m not in Emberkeep," I said, defiant.
Her expression twisted, something between fury and disbelief.
“I don’t care what the Siren destined you to,” she said, looking in my eyes without blinking.
“I rule this island, and I will make sure you do too for the sake of Rionis. The law, established three hundred years ago, requires that the queen or king complete the Emberkeep studies and graduate from Elarion Academy. That is exactly what you will do. You may be bound to the Dragontail Legion, but you will graduate from Emberkeep as well and you will rule this island. I will make sure the court sees to it.”
Those words cut through me like a knife to the chest, sharp, precise, aimed where I was weakest. For one fleeting moment, I had believed I was free.
Dragontail meant choice, a life shaped by my own hands.
It did not mean duty’s chains. I thought I had escaped the future carved for me since the day I was born.
But instead, I had thrown myself into something far worse.
Now I wasn’t just expected to survive Dragontail training.
I was expected to excel and then do the same in Emberkeep.
The pressure mounted inside me. Two battalions.
Two futures. Two sets of expectations I never asked for.
No one in history had ever been forced to walk both paths.
Somehow, my mother had already decided I would be the first. Failure was not part of her vocabulary.
I wanted freedom. Instead, I crafted a higher cage for myself.
"I can’t rule. We kill families. We’re ruthless. We impose disciplines on commoners that I cannot uphold like Lorik Draventh. He hates us because we killed his mother and sister and left him in foster care."
Her voice dropped, quiet with an edge of grief in disguise: "We killed Draventh's child because she used the unspoken magic. You know what that means.”
I swallowed hard.
"She was seen manipulating a serpent in the middle of Silver City," she continued.
"We can’t allow Sunhearts or Moonveils around with the power to command beasts.
Not with wildweavers in the Wastelands already binding with dragons and trying to invade our island.
Her mother tried to protect her and resisted law enforcement.
General Barret, well, assistant general at the time, was forced to end both of their lives. "
My breath caught. My throat tightened until I could barely breathe.
“But we don’t know if that magical trace is linked to the dragons or wildweavers,” I said softly.
“Perhaps you are right, but it is one theory of how and why this all started. Since the first attack happened over three hundred years ago. We kill any Moonveil or Sunheart with a magical trace that can command animals.”
Words stuck in my throat. Silence tasted bitter, resentment curling tight in my chest.
“If it makes you feel better, it’s a rare, magical trace. The Draventh girl has been the only one during my reign,” she added with an edge of sadness.
But it didn’t make me feel any better. I knew this had hurt her, too.
I could see it in her eyes and in her trembling voice.
For a heartbeat, my anger wavered part of me understanding her strength and the cost she bore.
But she was strong in spirit and always knew what had to be done without hesitation.
"See why I cannot lead?" I said softly. "I can’t make those decisions."
She looked at me for a long moment. "Because you don’t want this, it makes you best for the job. Ruling is never easy, but your heart is pure. Compassion, empathy which are rare qualities in Solenharts. That’s why you’ll bring light to this island."
The words hit something buried inside me. Guilt. Fear. And something quieter. A flicker I never dared to name. Not destiny. Not purpose. Just the haunting question: what if I wasn’t running from something at all, but toward it?
She stepped towards me.
A tear traced down my cheek, hot and sharp. I let it fall, unashamed and raw. She saw it. She always did.
Without a word, she hugged me—steady, warm, and solid, like when I was small, and the world was simpler. I froze for a moment. Then I let go of weight, fear, and fight.
I hugged her back. Fiercely.
And for just a second, it didn’t matter what legion I’d been placed in or how angry the Queen was.
For just a second, I wasn’t a princess.
I was just Thea. And she was just my mother.