The Dragon Queen Selection

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2 - An Awakening

LIRAEL SUTTON

The smoke was everywhere.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't see. Couldn't do anything but run, barefoot, bleeding, my nightgown torn, as the flames devoured everything behind me.

"Treason," the guards had shouted. "Lord Aidan Sutton has been accused of treason against the crown."

I had watched them drag my mother from her bed.

Had watched my mother collapse in the doorway, her screams swallowed by the crackling of the torches they carried.

Had watched Callum, my brother, my protector, be thrown to the ground and held there by men twice his size.

And then they had taken everything.

The house. The lands. The memories.

Everything.

"Run," my mother had whispered, her hand clutching mine one last time before they pulled her away. "Run and don't look back."

But I did look back.

I always looked back.

And in my dream, my nightmare, the one that came every single night, I saw my mother's face through the smoke.

"Run Lira!!!"

-------------------------------------

I woke with a gasp.

The room was dark. Cold. The ceiling above me was wooden and cracked, nothing like the painted ceilings of the home I had lost.

The estate, I reminded myself. Lord Vale's estate. Where we've been hiding for years now.

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling my heart pound beneath my ribs.

Just a dream.

Just the same dream.

Again.

"Lira?"

I turned my head.

A servant girl stood in the doorway, young, maybe fourteen, with a candle in one hand and a sealed parchment in the other. Her name was Mira. She had been here when we arrived. She had never once asked why three strangers had taken up residence in Lord Vale's crumbling manor.

"There's been a rider," Mira said quietly. "He dropped this off at the gate. Said it was urgent."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet. "Who was it?"

"I don't know. He was gone before anyone could ask."

She held out the parchment.

I took it.

The seal was crimson and gold.

Royal.

My blood turned to ice.

"Tommen said to leave it with the others in Lord Vale's study," Mira said, already turning toward the door. "I'll add it to the pile."

"Wait."

She stopped.

I didn't look at her. Couldn't. My eyes were fixed on the seal, on the royal crest of House Valemont, stamped in wax that had probably been melted over a fire in the palace itself.

"I'll take this one to the study myself," I said quietly.

Mira hesitated. "Lira..."

"You can go."

She left.

The door clicked shut behind her.

And I was alone.

---

I should have listened to her.

I should have taken the letter to Lord Vale's study, added it to the pile of unopened correspondence that had been gathering dust for months, and walked away.

Lord Eaton Vale, hadn't left his bed in weeks.

His granddaughter, the Lady Lira Vale, had been dead for a while.

No one from the capital had visited in years.

No one knew.

But my fingers were already breaking the seal.

The parchment unfolded in my hands, crisp and expensive, the kind of paper that cost more than most people earned in a month.

And I read.

---

To the Honorable Lady Lira Vale of House Vale,

By decree of His Majesty, The Dragon King Edric Valemont, and Her Grace, Dragon Queen Seraphina Valemont, you are hereby summoned to attend the Dragon Queen Selection.

The Selection will take place at the Royal Palace in the capital, beginning on the first day of the Harvest Moon. All eligible ladies of noble birth are invited to present themselves for the honor of competing for the hand of Crown Prince Cassian Valemont, heir to the throne of the Dragon Kingdom.

Your presence is required. Your participation is expected.

Should you fail to appear, your house will forfeit its standing and all associated privileges.

By order of the Crown.

---

I read it three times.

The Dragon Queen Selection.

Crown Prince Cassian.

I knew that name. Everyone knew that name. The prince who had bonded with Taheer, the thousand-year-old dragon no one had been able to ride. The heir who spent more time in brothels than at court.

The son of the man who had destroyed my family.

My hands were shaking.

Not from fear.

From rage.

They thought we would forget. That we would wither away in this crumbling estate, drowning in grief and silence. That we would accept what they had done and move on.

They were wrong.

I folded the letter slowly. Carefully. Pressed the creases flat with trembling fingers.

And then I stood.

---

Callum was in the stables.

He was always in the stables at this hour, mucking stalls, brushing down the mares, working the land that wasn't even ours because someone had to keep this place running.

He looked up when I entered.

Took one look at my face.

And froze.

"Lira?" He set down the pitchfork. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I held out the letter.

He took it. Read it. His expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to something darker, something that looked like fear.

"No," he said.

"Callum..."

"No." He thrust the letter back at me. "Whatever you're thinking, stop."

"You haven't even heard what I'm thinking."

"I don't need to." He stepped closer, his dark eyes blazing. "I know that look. I've seen it before. You're planning something dangerous."

"I'm planning something necessary."

"Lira..."

"The crown doesn't know she's dead, Callum." I held up the letter. "Look at this. It's addressed to Lady Lira Vale. Her. Not me. Her. And no one in the capital knows she's gone."

Callum's jaw tightened. "You don't know that."

"I know no one has visited. I know Lord Eaton hasn't sent word to anyone. I know we've been hiding here for years and no one has come looking."

"So what? You're going to pretend to be her?"

"Yes."

He stared at me.

"You've lost your mind."

"No. I've finally found it."

I stepped closer to him, close enough that I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight he'd been carrying since the night our world burned down.

"Our Father was accused of treason," I said quietly. "They took everything from us. His title. His lands. His life. And for what?"

Callum flinched.

"We've done nothing for years," I continued. "We've hidden. We've survived. But we haven't lived, Callum. And we certainly haven't avenged him."

"Avenging him doesn't mean throwing yourself into the lion's den."

"The lion's den is exactly where I need to be."

He turned away from me. Ran a hand through his hair. I could see him thinking, could see the arguments forming and dying on his tongue.

"The Vale family has the power of sight," I said. "They're known for it. Lady Lira used to dream of the future. I'll pretend I see visions too. In my sleep. When no one can prove otherwise."

"And the dragon trials?"

"The crown and I will be long gone by then."

"Will you?"

I didn't answer.

Because I didn't know.

Callum turned back to face me. His expression had softened, but only just.

"The royal court is in the capital," he said slowly. "Even if they send someone to check on Lord Vale, it'll take at least a week for them to get here."

"Exactly."

"And Lord Eaton can barely speak. He doesn't even know what day it is half the time."

"He won't contradict me. He won't even know I'm there."

Callum was silent for a long moment.

Then he sighed.

"This is madness, Lira."

"I know."

"You could die."

"I know."

"The dragons..."

"I know."

He looked at me, really looked at me, and I saw something in his eyes that I hadn't seen in three years.

Pride.

Terrified, reluctant, exhausted pride.

"I can't stop you, can I?"

"No."

He shook his head. Let out a breath that was almost a laugh.

"Then I'll help you." He stepped forward and grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm and grounding. "But you have to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't stay long enough for the dragon trials." His voice dropped. "If they find out you don't have powers, Lira... if they find out you've been lying..."

He didn't finish.

He didn't have to.

We both knew what the dragons would do to an imposter.

"Of course," I said. "The trials are held at the end of the Selection. I'll be long gone by then."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

The lie settled between us like a stone dropped into still water.

Callum nodded. Let me go.

And neither of us spoke of it again.

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