The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 135

CASSIAN

To His Majesty, King Edric Valemont, Dragon King, Lord Protector of the Realm,

I write to you with a heavy heart and a troubled mind.

Three nights ago, I was visited by a vision. Not a dream, a vision. The kind that has not come to me in years.

I saw fire. I saw blood. I saw the skies above the capital burning like a second sun.

Something is coming, Your Majesty. Something ancient and terrible. The old songs speak of a day when the bonds between dragon and rider would be tested. I believe that day is upon us.

I do not know when. I do not know how. But I know this: if we are not prepared, the kingdom will fall.

I urge you, with all the weight of my years and my house, to take precautions. Strengthen the walls. Bolster the guard. And for the love of all that is sacred...

Do not let any events proceed as planned.

Your loyal servant,

Lord Eaton Vale

Lord of the Vale Estate

Keeper of the Old Sight. 

\---

I read the letter three times.

Then I sat back in my chair.

Fire. Blood. The skies burning.

A warning probably about the Dragon Trials.

But nowhere, nowhere, was there any mention of Lira.

No mention of the Selection.

No mention of the dragon trials. 

No mention of his granddaughter.

Just... a vision. A warning. Sent directly to the King.

Why?

I rose from my chair. Crossed to the shelves where the archives were kept, the letters and documents from every noble house in the kingdom, preserved and catalogued by generations of scribes.

I found the Vale file quickly.

It was thin.

The Vales had not been active at court for years. Lord Eaton, as he got older, retreated to his estate, and his correspondence had dwindled to almost nothing.

But there were letters.

Old letters.

I pulled them out one by one.

Compared the handwriting.

And felt my stomach drop.

The letters from years past, the ones written before Lord Eaton left court were consistent. The same spidery loops. The same backward T's. The same strange, sloping cursive that looked like it belonged to another century.

The letter Lira had brought to the Selection, the acceptance letter, the one that had admitted her to the palace, was different.

The handwriting was similar.

But it wasn't the same.

The loops were too controlled. The T's were crossed in the wrong direction. The pressure of the pen was heavier, less certain.

Someone else had written it. 

And now this new letter, the vision, the warning, this letter looked like the old ones. This letter looked nothing like the ones I had intercepted where her grandfather had sent her. 

This new one, it felt like Lord Eaton himself had written it.

But, did that mean he didn't write the ones he sent to Lira? 

I compared the letters again.

Again.

Again.

And then I saw it.

The letter Lira had brought, the one that had admitted her to the Selection, was dated four days before the start of the Dragon Queen Selection. But the last known letter from Lord Eaton Vale, which was a few years ago, had been signed differently, he had ended the letter with the phrase 'Keeper of the Old Sight' 

A phrase he had commonly ended his letters to the Crown to. 

Someone had forged the letter Lira brought, because not only was the writing inconsistent, the phrase wasn't there. 

I stood in the middle of my study, surrounded by scattered letters, my heart pounding.

Something was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Lira was hiding something.

Her grandfather was hiding something.

And somewhere in the Vale estate, the truth was waiting.

I didn't think.

Didn't hesitate.

I just moved.

Out of the study. Down the corridor. Through the courtyard. Past the guards who called out questions I didn't answer.

Taheer, I shouted with my mind. Taheer!

His response came immediately, a pulse of warmth, of awareness, of readiness.

I am here.

I need you.

Now.

The ground trembled.

The sky darkened.

And Taheer descended from the clouds like a bronze thunderbolt.

\-——————————————

I climbed onto his back without speaking.

Without explaining.

Without thinking.

Where? Taheer asked.

"Vale," I said. "The Vale estate. As fast as you can fly."

And what will we find there?

I gripped his scales.

"The truth," I said.

Taheer launched himself into the sky.

The palace shrank beneath me, smaller and smaller until it was nothing but a toy, a bauble, a thing that could be crushed.

The wind screamed in my ears.

The clouds swallowed us whole.

And somewhere ahead, hours away, the Vale estate waited.

With its secrets.

Its lies.

And its truth.

\-----------------------

LIRA

The seamstresses froze. Calista's laughter cut off mid-sound.

Evander crossed the room in five long strides, ignoring everyone else, his gaze fixed entirely on me.

"You're back," I said stupidly.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." He reached for my hands, pulling me down from the platform. The seamstresses scrambled out of the way. "I returned a while ago. I came straight to find you."

"Evander..." 

He pulled me into his arms.

Hugged me.

Tightly. Desperately. Like he hadn't seen me in months instead of days.

I stood stiff in his embrace, my arms at my sides, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with romance.

"I missed you," he murmured against my hair.

I said nothing.

When he pulled back, his hands cupped my face. His thumbs brushed my cheeks, and his eyes, those bright, earnest blue eyes, like his brother's searched mine.

"You're pale," he said. "Are you unwell?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I'm just tired."

He frowned, clearly unconvinced. But before he could press further, Elora cleared her throat.

"We should give them some privacy," she said, her voice pointed.

The seamstresses needed no further encouragement. They gathered their pins and fabrics and retreated to the far side of the room, their heads bent together in whispered speculation.

Calista didn't move.

She stood on her platform, watching us with cold, calculating eyes.

"Calista," Elora said. "The dress."

Calista's smile was sharp. "Of course."

She stepped down slowly, deliberately, her red gown swishing against the floor. As she passed me, her shoulder brushed mine.

"Enjoy your reunion," she murmured.

Then she was gone.

Elora followed, but not before shooting me a look that said we'll talk later.

And then it was just us.

Evander and me.

Alone.

\-————————————

He kissed me.

Not gently, not the way he used to. This kiss was urgent, almost desperate, like he was trying to prove something to himself.

I didn't pull away.

But I didn't kiss him back either.

He didn't seem to notice.

"The Selection is almost over," he said when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against mine. "The ball is soon. Then the trials. And then..." 

"Evander..." 

"Then we can finally be together." His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer. "No more waiting. No more pretending. Just us."

I placed my hands on his chest. Gently. Carefully.

"You're moving too fast."

"I'm not moving fast enough." He laughed, a bright, happy sound that made my chest ache. "I've been waiting to marry you, Lira. I cannot wait any longer."

"Evander..." 

"I'm going to speak to my father and mother." He pulled back, his eyes shining. "After the ball. I'll write to your grandfather and formally request your hand. Or should we go visit him in Vale? The wedding can happen after Cassian's formal engagement."