The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 64

LIRA

I closed the door to Saphira’s chambers as quietly as I could, my heart hammering so loudly I was certain the servants in the corridor would hear it. The room smelled faintly of herbs and iron, and Saphira sagged against me the moment the latch clicked shut.

“Slowly,” I whispered. “Sit. Please.”

She collapsed onto the edge of her bed, her hands shaking as she pressed them to herself, her face drained of all color. Her hair clung damply to her temples, her breath coming in uneven pulls.

“I shouldn’t have left,” she murmured. “I shouldn’t have walked at all. I was just in so much pain..."

“It doesn't matter,” I said gently. “You found me. That’s all that matters."

She let out a broken sound that might have been a laugh. “Does it?”

I didn’t answer. I crossed the room instead, grabbing a basin and fresh cloths, tearing long strips from a spare linen sheet with trembling hands. My fingers felt clumsy, useless, but I forced myself to breathe, to focus.

When I knelt in front of her again, she looked at me like she was afraid I might disappear.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said weakly.

“Yes, I do.”

I dampened a cloth and carefully cleaned her skin where it had been smeared with blood, my movements slow, respectful. I didn’t look too closely. I didn’t need to. The reality of it pressed down on my chest all the same.

“They insisted that it was just a fever,” she said suddenly.

I froze. “Who?”

“The royal physician. The Queen.” Her fingers clenched in the sheets. “They said I was overtired. That my body was reacting poorly to the stress.”

My jaw tightened. “And you didn’t believe them.”

“No.” Her voice cracked. “Because I knew.”

I looked up at her. “Knew what?”

She swallowed hard. “Promise me you won't tell anyone this."

"I promise." I answered firmly.

"I was with child."

The word landed between us like a dropped plate, shattering the air.

“I felt it,” she went on, tears spilling freely now. “I felt another life in me. I missed my flow for the month. I wasn’t sick. I wasn’t confused. I wasn’t mistaken.”

I pressed the clean cloth into her shaking hands. “And then,” I said quietly. “Tell me what happened."

She took a long, shuddering breath.

“It was the Crown Prince,” she said. “Cassian.”

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t let her see the storm of thoughts tearing through my head.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything,” she continued bitterly. “Just… moments. Stolen ones. He was kind. Careful. He made me feel like I mattered.”

She laughed hollowly. “Fool that I am, I believed it did.”

“Does he know?” I asked.

“Before anyone else.” Her eyes burned with something sharp and wounded. “I went to him the moment I was sure. I thought..." She shook her head. “I thought he would protect me.”

“And?”

“And he told me he needed to be certain,” she snapped. “He said we needed confirmation. He dismissed me.”

Her hands curled into fists. “But I was certain. He just didn’t want to be.”

The anger surged up my spine, hot and uncontrollable.

“So he did nothing,” I said flatly.

“Yes.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Nothing.”

I finished with the strips and handed them to Saphira. It would help with the bleeding. At least for now.

“What will you do now?” I asked.

She stared at the floor. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?"

“There's nothing left to do.” Her shoulders shook. “If I speak, I’m ruined. If I accuse the Queen, I disappear. If I accuse the Prince..." She laughed again, sharp and broken. “They’ll call me a whore. I won't ever be able to marry well.”

My hands trembled. “You can't let them get away with this."

“They already have,” she said softly. “I will never win the Dragon Queen Selection. That much is clear now.”

A bitter silence settled between us.

“She told me,” Saphira went on. “The Queen. She came herself.”

My breath caught. “What did she say?”

“That I should be grateful,” Saphira whispered. “That she was protecting me. That if rumors spread about the Prince and I, no noble house would ever take me in marriage.”

My nails bit into my palms.

“She said if I spoke of the Prince again,” Saphira continued, tears sliding silently down her cheeks, “she would make certain my name became a warning.”

I felt something cold and resolute take root in my chest.

“What are you going to do?” I asked again.

She met my gaze, eyes hollow. “Lay low. Heal. Obey.” Her mouth twisted. “Survive.”

The word tasted wrong.

“You don’t deserve this,” I said.

She smiled sadly. “None of us do.”

A knock sounded at the door.

Saphira flinched violently. “You need to go.”

“I won’t leave you like this.”

“They’re watching me,” she said urgently. “If they find you here, she might punish you too... you're already walking on thin ice."

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” she snapped, gripping my wrist. “Please, Lira. Go.”

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I’ll come back.”

She shook her head. “No. You won’t.”

I stood, my legs unsteady, my heart burning with a fury I had never known.

As I slipped back into the corridor, I swore silently that the Crown would answer for this.

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

I barely made it back to the common hall before I saw Elora.

She was crouched near one of the stone pillars, her face pale, her hands braced against the floor.

“Elora?” I rushed to her side. “What happened?”

“I—I can’t stand,” she whispered. “My ankle, it won’t hold.”

“What do you mean it won’t hold you?” I demanded.

“I don’t know,” she said, panic creeping into her voice. “I was walking and then, nothing. I tripped."

I waved urgently to the nearest guards. “Help us!”

They lifted her carefully, carrying her to the infirmary as I followed close behind.

The physician examined her with a frown. “A badly broken ankle,” he said at last. “Nothing else.”

Elora stared at him. “But I didn’t trip on anything.”

“Sometimes the body missteps,” he replied mildly.

He worked fervently, resetting the bone and admiring a healing tonic. “The swelling will fade by tomorrow. For now, rest.”

My stomach dropped. “The ball.”

Elora closed her eyes. “I know.”

The instructor arrived with Amara in tow moments later.

“Will she be able to attend?” the instructor asked the physician briskly.

“No,” the physician said firmly. “Rest is essential if you need her back on her feet in the next few days.”

The instructor turned to Elora. “Do you still wish to go?”

Elora opened her eyes. “Yes.”

Amara scoffed. “She clearly can’t.”

“I can’t,” Elora agreed calmly. “But Lira can in my place."

“What?” Amara snapped. “That’s absurd. I took third place. I should attend..."

“She’ll take my place,” Elora said evenly.

The instructor hesitated. “That isn’t customary...”

“One word to my father,” Elora interrupted softly, “and he will want to know how I managed to injure myself without falling. He’ll also want to know who was supervising.”

The room went still.

“And,” Elora added, “whether that supervision was… influenced.”

The instructor swallowed. “Very well.”

Amara’s glare burned into me, sharp and accusing.

I met it without flinching.