The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 44

CASSIAN

I hadn’t slept. Not properly. Not after Saphira had left my room. Not after replaying the events of the banquet. The first thing I did when the day broke was to go check on Lenora. The physician told me there was no change in her condition. She was unresponsive but alive, the little of the poison left must have made its way to her bloodstream. They were trying to extract it all out by any means possible.

By morning, the halls of the palace were buzzing with whispers, but no one dared speak too loud. Fear had a way of silencing even the boldest tongues.

When the summons came from my mother, I already knew what she wanted to discuss.

I entered her solar quietly. The room was lit with soft golden light, the curtains drawn half-shut to keep out prying eyes. My mother, Queen Seraphina, stood by the window with her back to me. Even from behind, I could feel the weight of her presence, unbending, regal, sharp as a blade.

“Mother,” I said, bowing my head slightly.

“Cassian,” she replied without turning. Her voice was calm, but I caught the strain beneath it. “How is she?”

“Lenora still hasn’t woken,” I admitted, stepping closer. “The physician says the poison lingers in her blood. She may survive, but it’s too early to say how much damage was done.”

Her hands tightened on the windowsill. “I know I should tell her parents, but...."

I hesitated. “You’re not ready to inform them.”

She turned then, her expression unreadable. “If I tell them now, word will spread beyond these walls. Panic will take root in every noble house. They might request that the Selection be cancelled. You know what panic breeds, Cassian?”

“Chaos,” I answered.

“Exactly. Rumors, suspicion, weakness. And weakness invites vultures. What if they think we're weak?" She stepped forward, her gown whispering against the floor. “We cannot allow this to reach the King. Not yet.”

I frowned. “Father doesn’t know?”

“No,” she said sharply. “And he won’t. Not until I choose to tell him. He has enough to contend with so many other important matters. I’ll not have him distracted by the petty squabbles of jealous girls.”

I bit back my retort. Petty squabbles. That was one way to put it. Another was attempted murder.

“I’ve searched,” I told her. “Questioned servants, turned over kitchens, wine stores, goblets. There’s nothing. No trace of how the poison was slipped in. Whoever did this knew what they were doing."

Her eyes narrowed. “You sound frustrated.”

“I am.” I exhaled sharply. “It doesn’t make sense. Elderberry wine is Calista’s favorite. Everyone knows that, every servant, every girl in the Selection, half the nobles at court. It could have been anyone. Anyone could have slipped something into her drink. How do I narrow it down when the weapon is common knowledge?”

For the first time, something flickered across her face, a shadow of concern. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by cold resolve.

“You won’t,” she said simply. “Not yet. That’s why this must remain between us. Lenora’s collapse was explained to the few nobles who noticed as a result of stress. That is what they will continue to believe.”

“And if she dies?” I asked quietly.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Then we will cross that bridge when we come to it. Until then, we contain the damage.”

I studied her, trying to read beneath the steel mask she wore so well. Did she feel nothing for the girl? Or was she simply better than me at hiding it?

“What exactly do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Keep searching,” she said firmly. “But discreetly. No loud interrogations, no public accusations. And above all, keep silent. Not a word of this leaves your lips. Not to your father. Not to any sniveling noble. Not to anyone.”

Her gaze pierced me, as if daring me to argue.

I nodded slowly. “You have my word, Mother. I’ll keep it quiet.”

“Good.” She let out a breath, almost imperceptibly. “Cassian, this Selection is fragile enough. If the outside world catches scent of poison within these walls, it won’t just be the girls who are scrutinized, it will be the crown itself. And that, my son, we cannot allow.”

Her words settled like stone in my chest. The burden was mine now. Her secret. Our secret.

I inclined my head. “I understand.”

For a moment, she reached out and touched my arm, her grip surprisingly firm. “I trust you, Cassian. Do not make me regret it.”

I met her eyes, seeing for just a flicker the exhaustion she never allowed anyone else to glimpse. “I won’t,” I promised.

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

I stood in the garden path longer than I should’ve, staring at Lira chasing butterflies. My brother's eyes were fixated on her.

“Interesting, isn’t she?”

Evander stiffened.

Turning, he glared at me. His arms were crossed, his face unreadable as his gaze followed the same direction Lira had gone.

“You’ve been watching her,” I said flatly.

“And you haven’t?” he countered, one brow arching.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I walked toward him, closing the distance until I stood toe-to-toe with my brother. “Do you like her?”

Evander’s lips curved faintly, but it wasn’t amusement, it was something more guarded. “I admire her. She's not like the others. She's... calculating."

I frowned. “Calculating or guarded?"

“Both, maybe,” he admitted. “But you can’t deny it, she doesn’t chase after you like the rest of them. It irks you.”

I studied him carefully, trying to catch the meaning beneath his words. “You admire her because she doesn't like me.”

“Yes.” His answer came without hesitation this time. “Don’t you?”

The question caught me off guard. I looked away, jaw tightening. “What I admire doesn't really matter."

“And yet,” he said smoothly, “you’re asking me if I like her.”

The silence between us stretched. Finally, I exhaled. “She’s different. And different can be dangerous.”

Evander tilted his head. “Or it can be necessary.”

I shot him a look, but before I could speak further, he added, “About the poison. Any of the girls could’ve done it, or any servant in the kitchens.”

I dragged a hand through my hair. “The problem is, I can’t find anything. We searched everyone and everywhere. Nothing."

“Or,” Evander said quietly, “they’ve done this before.”

I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

He stepped out of the shadows then, closer to me. “Think about it, Cassian. Poison isn’t a crime of impulse, it’s planned. Precise. That kind of skill doesn’t come from a jealous girl lashing out. This is the work of someone experienced. Someone with access. Someone who’s practiced.”

My stomach twisted, though I didn’t let it show. “Are you saying one of them’s an assassin?”

“I’m saying,” Evander replied evenly, “you might be looking in the wrong place. Don’t just ask who had motive. Ask who had the means.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “And who do you think has both?"

He gave the faintest shrug. “Someone who has a lot to gain from this."