Page 19 of The Cursed Queen

I didn't bother to stop to talk to anyone. Not when my mind was traveling elsewhere, and my body moved on its own, instinctively heading back to the concealed privacy of mybedchamber. I didn't release the breath I'd been holding until my door was closed and I pressed my back against it. What happened back there? That fire. What could've caused it? It seemed to erupt on its own. It shouldn't have been possible, but I didn't think my mother could strip me of my duties to one day become queen, and that happened too.

Did I cause that fire?

I wanted to test it out, to know for sure if I had a hidden talent for conducting flames and never knew about. Only mages and fae were known to manipulate the elements. Witches and Wizards had spells to start fires, but couldn't control them.

What about me? Where did I fit into the spectrum?

I turned and faced the fireplace, my hand outstretched and focused on the block of wood inside. Magic had always been a failure for me growing up. No matter the instructor, or the means to coax my magic to the surface, it never worked. They were the first to tell me I was a failure. That I had no magic in my blood. My explosion from yesterday said differently.

I remembered the lessons vividly. How I needed to imagine my magic as a cup of water filling, and once it overflowed, I'd let it travel through the recesses of my body. I closed my eyes, imagining the flow of magic overflowing the cup, then going beyond to travel up my arm and into my hand. I envisioned the pile of wood, picturing it bursting into flames. Focusing hard on the sight in my mind's eye, I opened my eyes, expecting to have succeeded, only to groan when I saw no flames in the fireplace.

I cursed under my breath in defeat. Maybe it wasn't me, after all. Or maybe my magic wasn't strong enough yet? I hadn't been long since not taking the medicine, but if the fire was my doing, I should still be able to do it. Maybe I wasn't focusing on the right thing. Thinking back to being in that throne room, I recalled the emotions I felt. The feeling of outrage, of betrayal, of sorrow, and fear. Of how they were all taking away my duties because theyfound me incapable. Of the possibility that my mother would purposely drug me so she could continue ruling as queen. How I wished Clyde would burst into flames.

A warm haze began enveloping me. An embrace that comforted me, but also ready to fend off my enemies. My eyes trained on the wood, imagined it as Clyde and how I wanted it to burn. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the smallest trail of smoke wisped from a corner. I pushed harder, channeling all my feelings and wishing for the flames to incinerate it all to ashes. A few moments later, it happened. The wood lit up with a mild explosion and was soon bathed in the dancing embers of destruction. I jumped back with a gasp, surprised at my success, until my initial shock morphed to joy.

By the gods above, I created fire!

I most certainly wasn't a weakling. I had the potential to do more than I ever thought possible.

After spending a good part of the morning extinguishing and reigniting the flames, I committed the feeling and motion to memory. I moved from the fireplace to my hand when I realized doing so wouldn't burn my flesh. Eventually, I stopped after the third hour when fatigue threatened to weigh me down. By then I had reasonable control of my fire, but I would later uncover the extent of it.

I jumped when I heard the earth-shattering roar of dragons coming from outside. My anguish over the dragons' health had me rushing to the window, looking out to see the dragon riders battalion doing their laps around the kingdom. Their sight once filled me with envious wonderment, a longing to become one of them. Now all it did was enrage me when I think about how the knights are forcing the dragons to do their bidding. I desperately wanted to go out there and order them to stop. It killed me having to stand here and do nothing while the dragons continued to suffer.

My horror grew further when I spotted three familiar dragons in the mix. The ones from the stable, including Andriel. Somebody was mounted on my mate and riding him without a care in the world. I gritted my teeth so hard I was worried they'd shatter. It took everything in me to remind myself that I had to let it happen for now. That causing a scene would do more harm than good and could ruin any chance we had of setting the dragons free. A single tear fell from my eye, feeling helpless as I watched the dragons suffer.

I'd get them out of this. I swore it to the gods above. Failure was not an option.

––––––––

––––––––

I waited for the cover of nightfall before heading for the broom closet that hid the secret passageway Virgil showed me. Before going through it, I tested my use of magic by trying out theNightvision Enchantment. It took a few tries, but suddenly the cloak of darkness surrounding me faded, and I could now see the closet in full clarity. I uttered a shriek of triumph. I practiced turning it on and off for another ten minutes before I felt confident in my ability, then pushed open the wall hiding the passageway.

Virgil waited for me at the stable, so I needn't worry about him. Once I had the exit closed off, I took off in a run, feeling the bottle of medicine in my knapsack slung over my shoulder. Awhole day without the remedy in my system and I felt great. I felt stronger with every passing hour. The medicine was crippling me, but whether it was poison was something I'd unravel now.

Virgil stood outside the gate when I arrived, Andriel standing beside him, covering his nakedness with a long coat I assumed Virgil lent him.

"I brought it," I got out in between pants when I reached them. I pulled out the bottle and handed it to Andriel.

My mate wasted no time uncorking the bottle and took a sniff of the contents inside. His entire posture stiffened immediately.

His reaction left a chill running down my spine. "What is it?"

Andriel froze for a second before corking the bottle back. "Dragonsbane. I was right, this isn't medicine, Princess. They've been poisoning your magic with this."

Poison. I was drinking poison. Andriel was right. It all made sense now. There was no curse, was there? I didn't even need to wonder why my mother would have me drink this, since the answer had already revealed itself that morning. Mother wanted to continue being queen. With me out of the way, she could continue ruling. Everything fit into place.

"I'm not sick," I whispered, facing Virgil, who'd been worried about the curse since we were children.

My friend looked just as stunned as I did, his mouth slack-jawed.

"What exactly is dragonsbane?" I asked Andriel.

Andriel handed me the bottle. "Dragonsbane is a deadly plant that infects the magic within our body. Dissolving it like a puff of smoke, rendering the infected one unable to produce magic. For us dragons, it also means we're stuck in the form we currently take the minute we're infected. It's what the druid knights inject in us when we're not imprisoned in the cages."

"I saw them inject you," Virgil pointed out. "They never told us what's in those syringes, only that it was needed before riding a dragon."

"That's what they're giving us. It weakens our strength and renders our magic useless, which makes it easier for the riders to control us and conduct their magic into our flames for their use."

---