The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 39

LIRA

By the time we gathered for the final practice, the hall felt less like a rehearsal space and more like a battlefield. Fabric scraps, props, and glittering remnants of magic lay scattered everywhere.

Calista stood at the center, chin high, shoulders back, sweeping her hands as though she were already on a throne. “No, no, no! You’re not lifting your head at the right time, Evadne. The Queen deserves reverence, not indifference. Try again.”

Evadne’s smile was still angelic, but her tone dripped with ice. “Forgive me for not bowing at the exact second you prefer, Calista. Shall we measure it with a clock?”

Amara smirked, leaning on a chair draped in golden silk. “I rather think Calista is the clock. Tick-tock, all of us spinning around her hands.”

“Better me than you,” Calista snapped. “If you were in charge, we’d still be chasing your illusions halfway across the hall. And the Queen doesn’t want a chaotic carnival. She wants refinement. Elegance.”

I exchanged a look with Elora, who was bent over a piece of prop she was holding. She whispered, “How many times has she said elegance today?”

I grinned faintly. “At least a hundred. She’ll wear the word out before the banquet even comes.”

Juliette flopped onto a nearby bench, fanning herself dramatically. “If I hear the word elegance one more time, I’ll faint. And if I faint, Calista, it’ll be on your perfect little shoes.”

Calista glared, but before she could retort, the instructors clapped their hands. “Enough. Focus. The Queen’s banquet is two days away, and your performance is still ragged. From the top again. Calista, take your place.”

Calista smoothed her dress and sank gracefully onto the makeshift throne. She crossed her legs with exaggerated poise, as though every eye in the world already belonged to her. “Proceed.”

Evadne and Amara stepped forward, bowing low. “Long live the Dragon Queen,” they chorused, their voices threaded with magic. A ripple of golden light shimmered through the room, catching the edge of Calista’s hair and making it gleam, the ripple was from Juliette, who had been making magical illusions.

I adjusted the hem of Evadne’s gown, whispering to Elora as I worked. “If she tilts her head any higher, it’ll fall off.”

Elora stifled a laugh and nearly fell over the makeshift pillar she was holding. “Don’t make me laugh while we're on stage Lira, this pillar would fall!"

“Focus, you two!” Calista snapped from her throne, her eyes like sharpened steel. “The rest of the cast and the stage are as important as the performance itself. Whatever you all do, it reflects on me as well.”

Elora muttered under her breath, “Of course, everything comes back to Calista.”

Amara caught it and smirked. “Careful, Elora. Speak too loudly and Calista will have you whipped into elegance.”

The girls around the stage burst into muffled laughter. Calista’s nostrils flared. “You all think this is funny? When we stand before the Queen, you’ll regret every careless word and clumsy step.”

“Perhaps,” Vivienne drawled from the side, where she was tuning her harp. “But if perfection were the only requirement, Calista, surely the Queen herself would have chosen you already. Wouldn’t she?”

That earned Vivienne a deadly glare.

Meanwhile, my eyes kept drifting toward the door. For days, I had searched for Prince Evander, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him, but he had been nowhere to be found. Earlier that morning, I’d overheard two instructors whispering that he was on a royal assignment, but he would be back before the Queen’s birthday banquet. Just like Prince Cassian.

That gave me little comfort. The ledger’s mysteries weighed heavy on me, and without Evander, I had no path forward.

“Lira!”

I blinked back to the present. Calista was staring at me with folded arms. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. “You were… being elegant.”

A ripple of laughter swept through the group. Calista’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but Elora leaned toward me with a smirk. “You’re going to make her explode.”

“I might be doing everyone a favor,” I murmured back.

The rehearsal dragged on, tensions mounting with every passing minute. Evadne’s voice began to fray from singing so much, Amara’s illusions grew sloppy, and Juliette outright refused to rehearse her bow a seventh time. The other girls tripped and fell during the dance. It was getting messy.

Finally, Elora set down her prop and rubbed her temples. “We’re running ourselves ragged. The Queen will not care if Calista tilts her chin at the perfect angle or not. She’ll care that the performance feels genuine.”

“She’ll care that everything is flawless,” Calista snapped. “And it will be flawless. Even if I have to drag each of you into perfection myself.”

Juliette rose to her feet, hands on her hips. “Then drag yourself first. You’re not the Queen yet, Calista. Stop pretending like you already are.”

Gasps filled the room.

Calista’s eyes narrowed, sharp as glass. “Careful, Juliette. I could remind you who holds sway here. I don't need to remind you who the royal family favours."

“Oh please! Only in your imagination,” Juliette shot back.

Before the argument could spiral, Elora stood between them. “Enough! We all want the same thing, to honor the Dragon Queen. Let’s focus on that. Please.”

The room fell silent, though the tension still burned beneath the surface.

I touched Elora’s arm lightly. “You’d make a better leader than half the girls here.”

Her cheeks pinked. “Don’t say that too loudly. I’d rather not be noticed.”

But I noticed. And as the others grumbled back into their positions, I thought how rare it was to find someone here who wasn’t clawing for power.

Still, as we ran the scene again, I couldn’t deny I was very tired, but Calista shouldered on perfectly. For her, this wasn't just a performance, it was a chance to show everyone that she could be the perfect queen. That she was the perfect choice.

Calista understood that for her, it was more than a performance, the other girls were just backstage dancers to her.