Elara POV
The golden shoe hit me square in the face.
I stumbled backward, my scrub brush clattering across Princess Seraphina's marble floor. Pain burst behind my eyes, but I didn't cry out. I'd learned years ago that making noise only made things worse.
"You didn't bow fast enough, bastard," Seraphina said, inspecting her nails like she hadn't just thrown a shoe at my head. "Do it again. Properly this time."
My knees hit the cold floor. Blood trickled down my face, warm and sticky. "Forgive me, Your Highness."
"Louder. I want the entire house to hear how pathetic you are."
I raised my voice, shame burning in my chest. "Forgive me, Your Highness!"
Seraphina laughed—that musical sound everyone said was beautiful. To me, it sounded like breaking glass. "Better. Now finish my floors. The Dragon King's messenger comes tomorrow, and everything must be perfect. Not that a baseborn servant girl would understand beauty."
She swept out of the room, her ladies-in-waiting laughing behind her. The door slammed.
I waited until their footsteps faded before I let myself breathe. My hands shook as I picked up the brush. Twenty-two years old, and I was still cleaning floors. Still invisible. Still the king's dirty secret—the daughter he had with a servant and wished didn't exist.
The blood dripped onto the marble I'd just cleaned. I wiped it away quickly. If the head maid saw a mess, she'd make me clean the entire east wing on my hands and knees.
I worked faster, ignoring the pounding in my head. Scrub. Rinse. Repeat. This was my life. This was all it would ever be.
"Elara?"
I turned to find my mother standing in the doorway. Isolde—the nicest person in this horrible palace. She rushed over, her face pale.
"Your head! Oh, sweetheart, what did she do?"
"It's nothing, Mama." I tried to smile, but my lip wobbled. "Just clumsy me, dropping things."
"Don't lie to protect her." Mama grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it to my face. Her hands were rough from years of washing sheets and scrubbing pots. Hands that had worked themselves raw to keep us both alive. "We should tell someone—"
"Tell them what?" I laughed bitterly. "That the princess hurt the bastard? They'd punish you for speaking against her, and I'd still be nobody."
Mama's eyes filled with tears. She pulled me close, and I breathed in her scent—lavender soap and bread dough. The only safe smell in this house.
"One day, you'll be free," she whispered into my hair. "I promise you, Elara. One day, you'll leave this place and find happiness. Real happiness, not the fake kind these nobles pretend to have."
I wanted to believe her. I really did. But how could I be free? I had no money, no skills except cleaning, and nowhere to go. King Blackwell made sure everyone knew I was his mistake—his shame. No one would hire me. No one would marry me. I was stuck.
"I should finish," I said, pulling away. "Before the head maid comes."
Mama cupped my face. "Meet me in our rooms tonight. I made your favorite—apple tarts."
That made me smile for real. "You'll get in trouble for stealing from the kitchens."
"Let them try to stop me." She kissed my face, avoiding the cut. "My daughter deserves something sweet in this bitter world."
After she left, I finished the floors in record time. My head throbbed, but I had somewhere to be. Somewhere that made this terrible life almost livable.
The royal library.
I waited until the halls were dark and quiet. The night guards knew me by now—the unseen girl who snuck around like a ghost. They'd stopped caring years ago. I was safe. Just a fool who liked books.
If only they knew what books.
The library was enormous, with shelves that reached the ceiling and more books than I could read in ten lives. But I wasn't interested in the pretty romance books or boring history texts on the main floor.
I wanted the forbidden part.
I climbed the winding staircase to the third floor, where dust covered everything and spiders made webs in the corners. This was where they kept the books about magic. About the monsters that lived beyond our safe human kingdom.
About the North.
My fingers traced the spines until I found my favorite—Legends of the Dragon Kings. I'd read it a hundred times, but I never got tired of it. The stories talked about a land where magic was real. Where dragons shifted into men and demons walked easily. Where everything humans feared came life.
It sounded frightening.
It sounded wonderful.
I settled into my secret reading spot—a window seat hidden behind a bookshelf—and opened the book. Moonlight spilled across the pages.
The Dragon Kings rule the North with fire and claw, I read quietly. They are immortal, powerful, and totally without mercy for those who betray them. A dragon picks his mate only once in his eternal life. When he finds her, nothing in heaven or earth can keep them apart.
I sighed. Imagine being wanted like that. Being someone's choice. Someone's wealth.
Not someone's shame.
I was so lost in the story that I almost didn't hear the sounds.
"—arrives tomorrow," someone hissed from below. "Are you sure about this?"
I froze. That was Duke Ashford's voice. What was he doing in the library this late?
"I'm sure." Seraphina. My heart raced. "The Dragon King wants a bride. Fine. He'll get one."
"But the treaty specifically—"
"I don't care what the treaty says!" Her voice turned sharp. "I am not marrying a monster. I won't leave you, Marius. I love you."
My breath caught. Seraphina had a secret lover? If the king found out, he'd lose his mind. The marriage to the Dragon King was meant to create peace between our kingdoms.
"Then what do you propose?" Duke Ashford asked.
Seraphina laughed—that terrible, beautiful sound. "We'll give him a bride. Just not me."
Silence.
"Who?" Ashford finally said.
"The bastard. Elara."
The book slipped from my numb fingers.
"Drug her," Seraphina continued, voice full of cruel pleasure. "Dress her in my clothes. Put her in the carriage tomorrow. By the time anyone realizes the move, she'll be in the North. The Dragon King will kill her for being inadequate, Father will have his reason for war, and you'll help him win it. Then you'll be king, and I'll be your queen."
"What about her mother?"
"Lock her up. If the bastard tries to run or tell anyone, we'll kill Isolde."
My whole body went cold.
They were going to send me to die.
And if I tried to stop them, they'd kill Mama.
I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop from yelling. I had to run. Had to warn someone. Had to—
A hand clamped over my mouth from behind.
"Found you," a guard whispered in my ear.
Darkness swallowed me whole.