Page 62 of Bride of the Black Dragon
31
ELAINA
We stand before the Queen’s throne, and my stomach feels like I’ve swallowed a lump of ice. The audience chamber is vast, echoing with every sound, every breath. The torches flicker along the black marble walls, making the polished obsidian throne gleam like a shard of night itself.
Queen Virelda reclines upon it, tall and terrifyingly composed. Her dark gown glitters with threads of red, like veins of blood in stone. Her crown catches the firelight and turns it cruel.
Her eyes—those sharp, unfeeling eyes—lock on Xaren.
“How dare you let your Drake loose to terrorize the entire Citadel?” Her voice is soft, but it slices through the air like a blade of ice.
Xaren doesn’t flinch.
“I was taking Elaina flying, that’s all,” he says evenly, his face carved from stone. “My Drake needed to stretch his wings.”
“You know you’re only allowed to fly at night, when no one can see you!” she snaps. Her voice rises, sharp as the crack of a whip. “And even worse—what’s this I hear about you setting upon your brother and beating him in front of everyone in the gardens yesterday?”
As she speaks, a movement catches my eye. From the shadows behind the throne, Prince Dorian steps forward.
The sight of him makes my stomach turn. His pale, handsome visage is marred by faint bruises circling his throat—the marks of Xaren’s fingers. The bruises look dramatic against his pale skin, though I bet he’s probably made them seem darker with makeup.
“He choked me, Mother,” Dorian says, looking pitiful, as though he’s the victim here. “Set upon me for no reason in front of all my friends!”
I can’t stand this—the words burst out of me before I can stop them.
“You’re lying!”
Every head in the room turns toward me.
“You had two Nobles hold me while you beat me with a thorn switch from the rose bushes!” I say, stepping out from behind Xaren. “That’s why he punished you!”
The Queen’s face darkens. Her lips press into a hard line.
“Again you accuse my son—your husband—of lying?” she demands. “How dare you?”
“But it’s true!” I protest, my voice breaking. “Ask any of the Nobles who were there in the gardens! Xaren didn’t fight Dorian without provocation—he was protecting me!”
“As if you deserve protection!” Dorian spits, turning on me with venom in his pale blue eyes. “You’re nothing but a lying, sneaking, spying little cunt, and I hate you!”
The room gasps.
Before I can react, Xaren steps forward. His whole body goes taut, and his voice rumbles low and deadly.
“Watch what you say to my wife,” he growls, towering over his younger brother. “Unless you want more of what I gave you yesterday!”
“Enough!” the Queen snaps, rising from her throne. Her gown swirls around her like a pool of blood. She turns to her guards. “The collar!”
I blink.
“The what?”
Before I can even process what’s happening, two of the Queen’s guards rush forward. Xaren tries to pivot, to grab one of them, but they’re too quick. They come at him from behind, and I hear the sharp clink of metal.
Then I see it.
A thick iron collar snaps shut around his throat, the black metal gleaming faintly in the torchlight. A heavy padlock dangles from it, and the sound it makes as it closes is final. Brutal.
Xaren snarls and grabs at it, but his fingers can’t find a latch.
