The Dragon Queen Selection Chapter 79

LIRA

I paced my room like a caged thing, my steps worn into the rug as if I might burrow straight through the floor if I kept moving long enough.

“Bring it to me.”

The dragon's voice slid through my thoughts again, low, echoing, threaded with urgency that made my skin prickle.

“No,” I muttered aloud, clutching my arms around myself. “Not yet.”

The egg sat where I had placed it, close to the fireplace, its black surface catching the firelight in soft, uneven glimmers. It looked impossibly fragile for something that held so much weight, so much danger. Every time the flames popped, I flinched, half-afraid it would crack, half-afraid it wouldn't.

“You are wasting time,” the dragon hissed inside my head. “It weakens.”

“I know,” I snapped, anger flaring hot and sudden. “I can feel it.”

That was the worst part. I didn’t know how, but I could. A dull ache pressed behind my sternum whenever I looked at it. I could feel the life force of the dragon egg waning.

“You promised to help me,” I said. “You promised to give me answers.”

“And you promised me the egg,” she replied.

I turned away from the fireplace sharply. The egg was too exposed there. Anyone could walk in. A servant. An instructor. Elora.

My stomach twisted at the thought.

“Stop,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “Just, stop.”

The voice receded slightly, not gone, but quieter. Watching.

I crossed the room and yanked open my wardrobe, shoving aside dresses until my hands found the thickest gowns I owned, heavy velvets and layered silks meant for winter courts. I wrapped them carefully around the egg, my fingers trembling as I lifted it. It was warmer than I expected. Not hot. Just… alive.

I swallowed hard.

“I’m not giving you up,” I murmured to it. “Not yet.”

I lowered the bundle into the box at the back of my wardrobe, tucking the fabric close, then shut the lid with a soft click. The box was rarely touched. No servant would open it without it me being there. And I myself had no need of the gowns inside the box. The egg would be safe there, for now.

“That will not save it,” the dragon said quietly.

“It's only for a short while,” I shot back. “And please shut up! Let me think."

Silence.

For a moment, I leaned my forehead against the wardrobe door, breathing hard, my pulse loud in my ears. I had no idea what I was doing. No plan. Just instinct and anger and fear tangled together.

But I wasn’t giving the egg to the dragon. Not yet.

A knock sounded at my door.

I froze.

“Lira?” Evander’s voice followed, low and cautious. “May I come in?”

I closed my eyes briefly, steadying myself. “One moment.”

I smoothed my hair, straightened my sleeves, and forced my expression into something passable before opening the door.

Evander stood there in a dark coat, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, searching my face the moment he saw me.

“You look like you’ve been running,” he said lightly.

“I was pacing,” I replied. “Come in. But only for a moment.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His gaze flicked briefly around the room, lingering for half a second too long on the wardrobe.

“You’ve been busy,” he observed.

“So have you,” I said. “I hear you’ve barely been in the palace.”

He smiled faintly. “Diplomatic errands. Borders. Envoys. I seem to be very useful when something needs smoothing over.”

“Why you?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Why not the Crown Prince?”

Evander laughed softly. “Because I’m the spare.”

I frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“It is, in a tragic sort of way,” he said with a shrug. “Cassian needs to be safe. Close to the palace. I get sent out to be charming and expendable.”

“That’s a bit cruel,” I said quietly.

He tilted his head. “You sound offended on my behalf.”

“I am,” I replied. “Someone should be.”

Something softened in his expression. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

I stiffened. “Which one?”

“Whether you’ve thought any more about my offer,” he said gently. “About leaving the selection. About me.”

My heart stuttered.

“I… don’t have an answer you will like,” I said honestly. “And I don’t want to hurt you by pretending I do.”

Evander studied me closely. “Are you hesitating because of the crown? Because of your family? Or because of my brother?”

The question landed too close.

“No,” I said too quickly. “It’s not..."

He raised a brow. “You hesitated.”

I pressed my lips together. “I don’t want to talk about your brother.”

“That’s an answer in itself,” Evander said quietly.

“I don’t like him,” I said, the lie tasting bitter. “Not like that.”

Evander didn’t argue. He only sighed. “I think he likes you.”

My chest tightened. “You’re mistaken.”

“Perhaps,” he allowed. “But I’ve known my brother my entire life. He has taken an interest in you that I find rather strange."

Before I could respond, voices drifted down the corridor, laughter, footsteps, the rustle of silk.

Evander’s eyes flicked toward the door. "I should go."

“Yes,” I said quickly. “Go. Before someone sees."

He hesitated, then nodded. “Take your time, Lira. But don’t disappear on me.”

“I won’t,” I promised, though I wasn’t sure I meant it.

He slipped out just as the sounds grew farther.

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

Later, the general hall buzzed with tension as we gathered for the announcement. I scanned the room instinctively for Elora and found only the empty space where she should have been.

My stomach sank.

The instructor cleared his throat. “Lady Isla of the Windmere House.”

Isla straightened, eyes wide.

“You are dismissed from the Dragon Queen’s selection,” he continued. “You may return to your family with the Crown's eternal appreciation for participating.”

A gasp rippled through the hall.

Not me.

The thought struck hard enough to make my knees weak. I knew I read hard for the assessment, but a part of me was still in denial about passing it.

Whispers erupted immediately.

“I thought it would be Lira,” Evadne said loudly.

“So did everyone,” Amara added with a smirk. “I didn't expect she'd last this long. It's getting annoying."

I clenched my fists, keeping my face carefully neutral.

Calista said nothing. She only watched me, her gaze sharp and measuring, as if seeing me for the first time.