The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 77

LIRA

Elora didn’t look up when I knocked. Or when I walked in.

That alone told me everything.

“Elora,” I said softly, stepping into her room. “Can we talk?”

She turned a page in her book with deliberate calm. “You’re already talking.”

I swallowed. “I know you’re upset.”

She laughed quietly, without humor. “Upset implies surprise. I’m not surprised, Lira. I’m tired.”

That hurt more than anger would have.

I closed the door behind me. “I don’t want us like this.”

“And I don’t want to keep feeling like an idiot,” she replied, finally lifting her eyes to me. “Every time I defend you, every time I trust you, I end up realizing I don’t actually know you at all.”

“That’s not true,” I said quickly. “You know me.”

“I know the version of you that smiles and dodges and lies,” Elora said. “I know the version that disappears and comes back with excuses that don’t make sense. I know the version of you that hides things from me.”

I stepped closer. “I’m not lying to hurt you.”

“Intent doesn’t change impact,” she said sharply. “You vanish. You’re always somewhere else. You never answer my questions honestly. And every time I ask, you look at me like you’re calculating what fraction of the truth to tell me.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

“I’ve had a difficult life,” I said finally. “A past that…” My voice faltered. “That isn’t safe to talk about. Not here. Not yet.”

Elora studied my face like she was memorizing it. “It seems nothing is safe for you to tell me.”

“I will tell you,” I insisted. “With time. I promise.”

Her jaw tightened. “Time doesn’t help if you keep locking me out. I’m tired of being an idiot.”

“I’m only protecting you.”

“No,” she said quietly. “Don’t lie to me again. You’re only protecting yourself.”

Silence filled the room.

“I can’t help it if you if you don’t trust me,” Elora continued. “I thought we were friends, but you treat me like some liability. I guess I was wrong.”

That felt like a blade sliding between my ribs.

“So what are you saying?” I whispered.

She exhaled, slow and controlled. “I think we need some space from each other.”

My chest ached. “Elora…”

“Please,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “Just… not tonight.”

I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

As I turned to leave, she added, softer, “I hope whatever you’re hiding is worth losing people over.”

The door closed behind me with a final, quiet click.

I barely made it down the corridor before my vision blurred.

I had so much to tell her, but I couldn’t.

How would she react if she learnt that I stole the identity of a dead girl to be in the competition. Or that I planned to destroy the crown.

You are alone now, a voice whispered.

I stopped.

Not Elora’s voice.

Not human. The dragon.

“No,” I hissed. “Not now.”

You cannot ignore me any longer.

My hands curled into fists. “You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

You are running out of time, the dragon said. And so am I.

I turned sharply, heart pounding. “You let this happen.”

I warned you.

“You watched them do everything,” I snapped. “You watched my father die. And you did nothing.”

‘I was bound,”’ the dragon growled in my mind. ‘Chained. Silenced. Bleeding power into a crown that stole my child.’

I pressed my back to the cold stone wall. “You said you’d help me.”

‘I am helping you.’

“How?” I demanded. “By whispering riddles and half truths?”

‘By giving you the only path left.’

A pulse of heat rippled through my chest.

‘Go to the vault. Now!’

My breath hitched. “No.”

‘Go now.’

“I don’t even know where it is.”

A pause.

Then the dragon spoke again, and this time, the words slid into my mind with terrifying clarity.

‘Down the eastern stairwell. Past the old armory. Beneath the third sigil of the First Pact. Touch the stone. It will know you.’

My knees weakened.

“You’re lying.”

’I cannot lie to you.’

“And why would it open for me?”

‘Because you are your father’s daughter.’

My heart thundered. “That doesn’t mean…”

‘He could enter without waking the wards,’ the dragon said. ‘So can you.’

The corridor felt suddenly too narrow.

“And the egg?” I whispered.

‘It is dying,’ she said. ‘Faster now. Retrieve it. And bring it to me.’

I shook my head. “If I take it, they’ll know.”

‘They already sense its weakening.’

“I could be killed.”

‘So could I.’

Silence stretched.

I closed my eyes.

“Fine,” I breathed. “But if this destroys everything..”

’Everything is already destroyed.’

……………………..

Later that night, when the palace slept, I made a move.

Wrapped in black, my hood pulled low, I moved through corridors I had memorized without meaning to. The guards were fewer this night. I didn’t know why, but it worked in my favour.

And Crown Prince Cassian was nowhere to be found.

My heart pounded louder with every step.

Down the eastern stairwell.

Past the old armory.

There it was.

The sigil.

I hesitated before the stone door, its surface etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly, as if breathing.

“This is madness,” I murmured.

Touch it.

My fingers trembled as I pressed my palm to the cold stone.

The world seemed to pause.

Then….

The runes flared.

The stone shifted.

I stumbled back with a gasp as the vault door slid open, silent as a held breath.

“Oh gods,” I whispered.

I ran inside, still shocked.

Inside, gold gleamed in soft torchlight. Relics. Jewels. Weapons humming with dormant magic.

But I barely saw any of it.

Because at the center of the chamber, resting on a cradle of obsidian….

The egg.

Black as midnight, veined with faint silver cracks that pulsed weakly, like a dying heartbeat.

I approached slowly. “You’re real…”

Always have been.

I touched it.

Warm.

Fragile.

“Don’t die,” I whispered, lifting it into my arms.

It felt lighter than it should have.

As if it were already fading.

I didn’t remember leaving the vault.

Only the weight of the egg against my chest as I slipped back through the palace, unseen, unheard.

Back in my room, I locked the door and crouched by the fireplace, setting the egg near the warmth.

It pulsed faintly.

Alive.

For now.

I sank to the floor, staring at it.

“If I give you to her,” I murmured, “she won’t need me anymore.”

The fire crackled softly.

“This is the only thing they all fear,” I said to the empty room. “The only leverage they have.”

‘And the only thing keeping me bound,’ the dragon whispered.

I wrapped my arms around my knees.

If I returned the egg, the dragon would be free.

If I kept it, I held power over both crown and beast.

I stared at the faint silver glow beneath the shell.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.