Page 18 of The Cursed Queen

The council agreed with her, which had me gritting my teeth.

Mother must've seen the anger on my face and laughed. "Seraphina, honestly, I was only yanking your chain. No need to look so offended. Now then, we have more important matters to discuss."

"And what would that be, Mother?" I asked.

"Your future, Princess Seraphina," said Arlor, one of the four elders. As druids aged slowly, it was impossible to tell how old they were. They could range from several decades to a few centuries. Arlor had to have had hundreds of years under his belt. He was bald at the top of his head, his pale complexion wrinkled and leathery with a long, stringy grey beard. He wore a velvet plum-colored robe embroidered with a field of vines. The flow of his magic was strong enough to have my body shivering.

I frowned at the old man. "What about my future? I would be crowned queen after my birthday."

"I'm afraid not," Mother countered, clenching her hands together in front of her, trying to look sad but failing to pull it off.

Her words gave a high-pitched ringing in my ears. "What are you talking about?"

"Seraphina, it is with a heavy heart that we, the counsel of Atheynia, must inform you that you will not be crowned as Queen of the Zeffari Kingdom after your birthday. We feel with your frail physical condition and weak state of magic, you're in no condition to govern all druid kind."

I gaped at my mother, looking from her to all the faces of the counsel who deemed me unfit to rule our kingdom. They all averted their eyes so as not to meet mine. Except for my mother, who kept a grin on her face as if unbothered by the news.

"This is outrageous," I shouted. "It has always been planned for me to take over as queen in your place after my twenty-first birthday!"

Mother pouted again. "I know, darling. And you worked so hard to prove yourself ready to assume the responsibility that comes with being, well, me," she says with a mocking giggle. "But it really is for the best. You wouldn't want to let down all of Atheynia because you weren't strong enough to protect them, would you?"

I so desperately wanted to rage at my mother. To tell her I didn't feel as weak as she perceived me to be since I didn't take my faux medication. I wanted to test my magic right this second to prove to myself and everyone here that I was far from inadequate. To prove that I could protect the druids of Atheynia, but I did none of that. If I did, they'd demand answers. I was supposed to act as if nothing was different about me. That I was still the fragile princess with no talent.

"Who will take my place, then? Who will rule?" I muttered my question, not needing to pretend to be disappointed.

Mother smiled victoriously. "I will continue to reign. Honestly, I was not ready to retire. I'm still in my prime and can continue to rule as I have done."

So that was what this was about. Mother wanted to continue being queen. She hated the idea of me taking the crown from her when I came of age. Thinking about the bottle in my bedchamber, I put the pieces together.

"If that's what you feel is best, Mother," I forced the words out, though they felt like acid on my tongue.

"That's my girl. I'm glad you could understand." Mother patted my arm in a sad display of affection. "Don't worry. Mother will continue to look after you. After all, it's not as if you have a chance of marriage either. In your state, I doubt you could even bear children."

It was getting harder and harder to hold my tongue. How I managed not to cry out my rage at every single one of them was a mystery to myself, but somehow, I held it all in.

I started to speak up, but cleared my throat when I felt a sliver of my anger seeping through. "Whatever you feel is best, Mother."

"I know it must be disappointing for you, Princess," Clyde, Mother's advisor, spoke up next.

He was a lean druid, with long brown hair, strips of it braided, jade green eyes, and a narrow-pointed nose. To me, he always resembled a vulture, and carried himself as such, always picking at the remains of destruction my mother caused. Anything to make her look good in the eyes of the public. I always despised him.

"A little," I spoke truthfully, my fingers twitching at my sides, wishing I could display my ire. I imagined him spontaneously combusting into a volley of flames. My imagination was so vividI could almost smell the smoke of an open flame. "But if it's for the good of the kingdom, then who am I to object to what you all think is best?"

"That's good to hear. Rest assured, we still plan on making your birthday celebration the best—"

"Clyde, you're on fire!" Aizen cried out as actual smoke began billowing.

We all backed away in surprise when a corner of Clyde's robe caught on fire. Clyde, in a frantic haste, stomped on the burning fabric to snuff out the flames. At first it seemed as if it would never extinguish, but then he muttered an enchantment, and within seconds, the flames died out. I was still left standing there with my mouth hung open like a fish in desperate need of oxygen, wondering what had happened. I imagined Clyde catching fire, but to see it happen... Did I do that?

No, I couldn't have. Even with a normal pool of magic, druids couldn't create or manipulate fire. That had to have been a coincidence, right?

While the elders and the twins fussed with Clyde and were left wondering how the fire started, Mother looked from Clyde to me. Her face was uncharacteristically neutral. I shrugged with a frightened stare, just as surprised as the others.

"Seraphina, why don't you run along back to your bedchamber. I think we're done with this meeting, and I'm concerned that all this excitement will be bad for your health," Mother said.

Was she truly concerned about my health? It didn't seem like it, but I did want to leave.

"Yes, Mother." I bowed my head before turning and walking off.

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