The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 33

CASSIAN

For tonight, the library was my refuge. The scent of old parchment, beeswax polish, and faint candle smoke was grounding in a way the rest of the palace wasn’t. Tonight, I sat in one of the alcoves, a book spread across my lap, though I had read the same page three times without absorbing a single word.

The door creaked. I didn’t look up at first, thinking it was some guard. But then I heard the soft click of heeled slippers on marble.

“Your Highness.”

Saphira’s voice.

I set the book aside and turned my head. She slipped in, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her gown a shade of crimson that seemed far too bold for evening study.

“Saphira,” I said, my tone guarded. “What are you doing here?”

She closed the door gently behind her, leaning against it as though sealing us into a secret. “I came to talk to you.”

I raised a brow. “At this hour?”

Her lips curved into a smile. “At this hour, precisely. There are fewer eyes. Fewer ears.” She stepped forward, her movements deliberate. “And fewer excuses for you to avoid me.”

I leaned back in the chair, watching her. “Avoid you?”

“Yes.” She stopped just short of the table. Her gaze caught mine, unwavering. “You once showed interest in me. You sought me out. You kissed me.” Her tone softened, almost teasing. “And then suddenly… you didn’t.”

My jaw tightened. I remembered the kiss. It had been quick, unplanned and it certainly was her who kissed me first, but it lingered more in her memory than I’d expected.

“There’s a lot weighing on my decision,” I said evenly. “More than a single kiss."

She tilted her head, her earrings catching the glow of the candles. “And yet you can’t deny it. What we shared wasn’t nothing. It's not something that can be easily discarded."

“Saphira..."

“Tell me,” she interrupted softly, taking another step closer. “Are you still looking at your options? Do you consider me a worthy candidate to be your Dragon Queen or have you made your final picks already?"

Her words hung between us, heavy with meaning. Although her family wasn't as rich as the Dornes, or her father as powerful as the Harthwells, she did come from a very respectable noble family, she was a choice my parents would still accept, even if she wasn't their actual pick.

A safe choice, like my sister Aveline had mentioned.

“If you play your cards right,” I said at last, “you could be a candidate."

The slow smile that spread across her face told me she had wanted that answer. She moved around the table until she stood beside my chair, her hand brushing the back of it.

“You know I’m the right fit for you,” she whispered. “For Aurelia. For the crown. The others, Calista, Elora, the rest, they posture, they pretend but they will never understand you.”

“And you would?” I asked, my voice low.

Her fingers trailed across the armrest, close enough that my knuckles tingled from the nearness. “I could.” Her eyes dropped briefly to my lips before flicking back up. “If you let me.”

I forced myself to stay still, though every nerve in my body tightened. “Careful, Saphira.”

“I know what I’m doing your highness," She leaned down, her breath brushing against my ear. “I’m not Cassandra. I won’t be reckless. I won’t ruin myself… or you.”

Her nearness tested my control. The scent of her, spiced roses and something darker, wrapped around me, and for a moment, I almost gave in.

A triumphant gleam lit her eyes. She moved then, not toward me, but around the side of my chair. Her fingers trailed across the high back, a whisper of touch I felt through the leather.

"You know I'm the right choice," she said, her voice now right beside my ear, her breath warm against my skin. "I understand power. I understand you. The others are just girls playing a game. I am not playing. I am what you need."

I could feel the heat of her body, smell the intoxicating mix of her perfume and something uniquely her. My hands gripped the armrests.

"Careful, Saphira," | warned, but my voice was rougher than I intended, betraying the strain.

"Or what?" she challenged softly. Her hands came to rest on my shoulders, her thumbs pressing into the tense muscles there. "You'll send me away? I don't think you want to."

Then, she moved. In one fluid, shocking motion, she sank to her knees between my legs. The sight of her there, on the floor before me, her eyes looking up through dark lashes her lips parted, was utterly devastating.

"Saphira..." My voice was a strangled thing.

"Shhh," she whispered, her hands sliding up my thighs. "Let me show you how dedicated of a candidate I can be."

Her fingers went to the fastenings of my trousers. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of want and warning. This was a line that, once crossed, could not be uncrossed. It was a vulnerability, a secret, a weapon she would own forever. I felt the cool air as the first button gave way. Her eyes were locked on mine, watching the war rage within me. Her expression was one of pure, predatory certainty. She believed she had already won.

With a grit of my teeth and a force of will that felt like tearing my own skin off, my hands snapped down. I caught her wrists just as her fingers brushed against the second button. I held her there, not roughly, but with an immovable firmness.

Her eyes widened in genuine surprise.

The certainty flickered, replaced by confusion, then a flash of anger.

"No," I said, the single word leaving my lips like a command ripped from the deepest part of my duty.

"Cassian..." she began, her voice laced with a mix of pleading and fury.

"Get up," | interrupted, my voice low and deadly serious. I released her wrists and stood abruptly, forcing her to scramble back to her feet or be stepped on. I turned away from her, re-fastening my trousers with hands that were not quite steady, putting the the desk between us like a shield.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to reclaim the air she had stolen from the room. When I turned back, she was standing, flushed and furious, her composure shattered.

"That was a mistake," I said, my voice cold now, the heat of the moment banked into icy embers. "Do not mistake my words for personal invitation. We are not alone. We will never be that alone. Now get out."

She stared at me, her chest heaving. For a moment, I thought she would argue.

Then, her mask of the perfect courtier slid back into place, though her eyes remained burning coals.

"As you wish, Your Highness," she said, her voice clipped and formal. She turned and left without another word, the library door clicking shut behind her with a finality that echoed in the sudden silence.

I sank back into the chair, my head in my hands.