The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 28

LIRA 

During breakfast, I couldn’t help but notice Saphira’s cheerful mood. Her voice was a boastful thing as she recounted, for what felt like the dozenth time, how Prince Cassian had *specifically* asked for her opinion on the Dragon’s Keep and the dragon mating season. 

“He values my input, you see,” she simpered, adjusting a perfect curl. “He was so keen on hearing what I thought about the dragon’s keep and the southern plains."

I kept my eyes on my teacup, the delicate porcelain feeling fragile as an eggshell in my grip. Across from me, Calista was doing the same, but where my silence was a shield, hers was a drawn bowstring. I saw the faint tremor in her hand as she set her cup down.

“It’s remarkable,” Calista said, her voice deceptively light. The room went quiet. 

“How much time the Prince seems to have for… casual conversation. I’m sure he’s just being polite to all of us. He must be a master of diplomacy to make each of us feel so… singularly special.”

The words were a masterstroke. They sounded like a compliment but landed like a poison dart. 

I wondered how she could do that, decimate someone with just one sentence. 

Saphira’s smile tightened. The other girls, who had been nodding along with envious smiles, suddenly looked less certain. 

Was he just being polite? Were they all just interchangeable courtly duties to him? Did he really care for Saphira’s opinions or would the same question make it round the other girls?

Saphira’s eyes flashed. “Some conversations are clearly more than mere politeness, Calista. Of course you wouldn't know that.."

“Of course,” Calista replied, her smile serene. “I’m sure yours were. It’s just so fascinating how he finds the time to talk to almost all of us. Lady Lenora, didn’t he also walk with you in the gardens yesterday?”

All eyes swiveled to Lenora who blushed a deep scarlet. She nodded slowly. 

"And Vivienne didn't you visit the stables with him two days ago?"

Vivienne nodded.

"Ah yes he was showing me the new stallions that had arrived."

The seed was planted. Saphira was no longer the sole object of envy; Calista had expertly turned the spotlight, pitting them all against each other with a few honeyed words. 

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the tea.

That afternoon, right before lunch, I saw Calista’s campaign begin in earnest. From my spot in class, partially hidden by a heavy drape, I watched her approach Lady Lenora near the sunlit windows.

“There you are,” Calista said, her voice a warm melody. She linked her arm through Lenora’s with an easy familiarity that made my skin crawl. “I was hoping to find you. You have such a calming presence, Lady Lenora. After all that tedious noise Saphira was making at breakfast, I find myself in need of it. I can see why the queen likes you.” 

I hoped Lenora wasn’t foolish enough to take the bait, but it seemed like she was.

Lenora, ever sincere, bloomed under the false sun of Calista’s attention. “You are too kind, Calista,” she murmured, her face full of trusting warmth. They walked away together, with Calista whispering to her happily. 

I could see the cold calculation in Calista’s eyes even from across the room when she came back in, a stark contrast to the sweet smile on her lips. *She’s so simple,* I thought, echoing what I knew was in Calista’s mind. *So easy to manipulate.*

Later, in the hallway, I witnessed the next phase. Calista cornered Amara, everyone knew Amara couldn’t hold her tongue from gossiping. And she never missed a chance to use an opportunity to her advantage. 

“Amara, a moment?” Calista’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. She glanced around with exaggerated caution. “I must ask… have you noticed it, too?”

Amara leaned in, her eyes wide. “Noticed what?”

“Saphira. Her… nightly walks. She slips away after dark. Nearly every night.” Calista let the implication hang in the air, thick and unspoken.

Amara’s hand flew to her mouth. “You’ve seen it too? I thought I was imagining things! Do you… do you think she’s meeting someone?”

Calista gave a delicate, innocent shrug, but her eyes were sharp as daggers. “Who can say? A servant, perhaps? Or maybe someone from the city? It’s not our place to speculate, of course.” She paused, letting the toxic idea take root. “But it is strange, isn’t it? Perhaps it’s worth keeping an eye on her. I know your powers can make you invisible to the ordinary eye. Perhaps you can use it to watch over her. For her own safety, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Amara echoed, her mind already racing with the scandalous possibilities. “Oh, absolutely. For her safety. I’ll keep an eye on her. Just to be safe.” 

I slipped away before they could notice me, my heart thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs. This was more than mere rivalry; this was a calculated dismantling. Calista wasn’t just playing the game of court. She was changing the rules, and she was playing for keeps. And I knew, with a sinking certainty, that I needed to be far more careful than I had ever been before.

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

The stone of the windowsill was cold against my forehead. Another day had bled away, and I had nothing to show for it. No proof, no leverage, not a single thread of truth I could pull to unravel the truth of my father's death.

A hollow ache spread through my chest, colder than the stone. What was I even doing here? How is it possible that I have achieved so little?

A soft knock at the door shattered the silence. I jumped, my heart lurching into my throat. No one visited me at this hour. I smoothed my robe and opened the door a crack.

Prince Evander stood in the dim corridor, his face etched with a concern that seemed out of place. My breath hitched.

"Your Highness," I breathed, stepping aside to let him in without thinking. The door clicked shut, sealing us in the quiet of my chambers. The air suddenly felt too thin.

"You shouldn't be here. If anyone saw you..."

"I won't stay long," he said, his voice low. He held up a hand to soothe my panic, but it did little to calm the frantic beat of my heart.

He sat on the edge of my bed, a respectful distance away, and placed a thick, leather-bound book beside him. "Here," he said.

"The next challenge is a test of historical knowledge. The royal archives are… vast and deliberately confusing. This," he gestured to the book, "is a private ledger. It might help you find what you need to study faster than anyone else."

I stared at the book, then at him. Why? Why was helping me? Was it pity? A trap? Another layer to the game I didn't understand?

"Why are you helping me?" The question was out before I could stop it, my voice barely a whisper.

He met my gaze, and for a moment, his usual mask of casual amusement slipped. I saw something else there, something weary and genuine. "Because I don't want you to leave yet."