The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 25

LIRA

“Is something on my face?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he said. “Just looked like you needed someone to remind you you’re still real. Still standing. Even with the storm your eyes.”

I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

He drew his hand back then, as if nothing had happened, his smile gentler now.

“I hope your tea is stronger than yesterday’s,” he added lightly, already turning to go. “You’ll need it.”

“What makes you say that?” I called after him, trying to hide how unsteady my heart was.

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Because Lady Saphira was just spotted in the garden wearing feathers. Real ones. I think she’s preparing for war.”

And with that, he disappeared around the corner.

I stood there for a long moment, my hand still hovering near my cheek.

The dragon’s words still echoed in my mind.

But for now, I let them fade, just a little. Because for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.

And Evander’s smile was still warm in my memory, like a single candle burning back the dark.

..................

I should’ve known the moment Evander touched my cheek that someone had been watching.

Whispers spread like ivy in this palace, quiet at first, but soon they were wrapping around every corridor and curling into every room. I could feel the shift in the way the girls looked at me as I approached them during teatime. Curious stares gave way to narrowed eyes, and passing glances turned to sharp-edged smirks.

They thought I was flirting with him.

I wasn’t. Gods, I wasn’t even trying. But that didn’t matter. The simple fact that he had sought me out, spoken to me, smiled at me, touched me with the kind of gentle fondness they’d all been craving from either prince, was enough to turn me into a target.

And Saphira… Saphira didn’t waste a single second sharpening her claws.

"Tell me, Lady Vale," Saphira’s voice cut through the garden like a whip, soft and sweet and sharp enough to draw blood, "what exactly is it that keeps you here? Charm? Wit? Because it certainly isn’t grace or skill."

I didn’t look at her right away. I took a small sip of my tea. Then I turned, slow and steady, and met her gaze.

"Perhaps it is luck," I said, letting my smile bloom. "Even you can’t underestimate that, Lady Saphira."

I saw it, the twitch in her jaw, the flash of irritation beneath her cold, perfect mask. She took a step toward me, her shadows, Amara and Selene, following like obedient wolves.

"Luck can only take you so far, dear," she said, her tone slipping colder. "Sooner or later, everyone will know what you are doing."

I felt the girls watching from all corners of the garden. Silent, waiting, feeding on the tension. And I knew I should keep my head down. I knew that was the safest way. But I was tired of feeling hunted.

"Thank you for the warning," I said sweetly, matching her gaze. "I’ll be sure to treasure it."

The next day, her poison worked harder than ever.

Every corner I turned, I could feel the weight of their whispers. News had spread that I was flirting with Prince Evander to stay in the Selection.

“She must be manipulating him,” I overheard at a tea gathering, as I entered just late enough to catch my name dripping from Lady Amara’s lips. “You all saw how badly she did in the last challenge. There’s no way she should still be here.”

“She’s playing at something,” Saphira added, sipping delicately from her teacup like she hadn’t just torn me down. “It’s suspicious, isn’t it? Her sudden bond with Prince Evander? Strange timing, don’t you think? Especially after she was so horrible at the challenges."

Lady Amara leaned in. “Every time I see him now, he’s always with her. Perhaps she cast a spell on him or something. I can’t imagine what he’d want with… that.”

Saphira let out a quiet laugh, like I was something amusing caught in her teeth. "Oh, men are very simple creatures. A plain face, a few coy smiles, some light touches. Sometimes that’s all it takes. Isn’t that right, Lira?"

The room fell quiet as they noticed me standing there.

I froze for a heartbeat, the insult hanging in the air like perfume. I could’ve turned away. I could’ve smiled and swallowed it like I had so many times before.

But not today.

I lifted my chin and met her eyes head-on.

"If it was that easy, how come your tactics didn't work on the Crown Prince," I said, voice calm, steady. "Has he ever noticed your advances?"

For a second, no one moved. Even the teacups seemed to hold their breath.

Then I saw it, Lady Juliette smothering a smile behind her hand, barely hiding the gleam of delight in her eyes.

Saphira’s mouth thinned. She said nothing.

Good

......................

CASSIAN

The wind off the cliffs still carried heat from the dragonfire. My armor was scorched across the chestplate where Taheer had breathed a little too close, again. I liked him better that way. Unpredictable. Unapologetic. A reminder that control was always a lie we told ourselves to sleep well at night.

I removed my gloves, running a hand through my damp hair, and turned to Taheer, who was now stretched along the sun-warmed stone like a smug, overgrown cat, except for the fact that he was enormous.

“Are you finished showing off?” I asked him aloud.

His only response was a low rumble, then a gust of smoke that drifted toward me like a lazy taunt.

I was about to head inside the Dragon's Keep to cool off when the sound of wings reached me, lighter, swifter. I looked up and saw a sleek, silver dragon cutting through the sky like a blade. A moment later, my sister Aveline slid down gracefully from the saddle, her braid swinging behind her like a banner. She never came to meet me without a reason.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” I said as she strode toward me.

Aveline rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was avoiding our mother, and you just happened to be far from her reach.”

I chuckled. “Wise.”

She didn’t smile. Not yet. She glanced toward Taheer, then back at me, brows arching. “You’re still alive. Barely. Thankfully, you managed to put on some armour this time."

“I live for the thrill,” I replied.

“You live for chaos,” she muttered, folding her arms. “Speaking of which... have you decided who you’re focusing on?”

The shift in conversation was abrupt, but not unexpected. My sister didn’t waste time on niceties when her mind was already three steps ahead. I sighed, wiping soot from my arm.

“Mother has made her preference… clear,” I said, voice flat. “She wants me to choose Lady Calista Harthwell.”