Elara's pov
"Your marriage," he repeated calmly. "You are eighteen years old now. A queen needs a king. Or at least a prince consort. The kingdom needs an heir. It needs stability."
My stomach dropped. "I... I just became queen three days ago."
"Exactly," Malakor said. "Which is why we need to start making arrangements now. These things take time. We must reach out to neighboring kingdoms, arrange meetings with potential suitors, negotiate marriage contracts—"
"No," I said. The word came out sharper than I meant. "Not yet. I need time to adjust to being queen first."
Malakor's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, your personal comfort is not the priority here. The kingdom's stability is. A young, unmarried queen is seen as weak. Vulnerable. Our enemies will take advantage."
"What enemies?" I demanded. "We're at peace with everyone."
"For now," Garrow said darkly. "But peace is fragile, Your Majesty. A strong marriage alliance would secure our borders. Protect our people. It's what your parents would have wanted for you."
There it was again. What my parents would have wanted. Like I was supposed to make every decision based on what dead people might think.
I looked around the table. Every single man was nodding. Agreeing with Malakor. Looking at me like I was being foolish and childish for not jumping at the chance to marry a stranger.
I felt trapped. Cornered.
"I will think about it," I said finally.
"There is nothing to think about," Malakor pressed, his voice harder now. "This is your duty as queen. Your parents, gods rest their souls, sacrificed everything for this kingdom. The least you can do is honor their memory by securing its future through a proper marriage alliance."
"Do not presume to know what my parents would have wanted," I snapped. Heat rushed to my face. "They are dead. I am queen now. And I said I will think about it."
Silence fell over the room like a heavy blanket.
Malakor's face went very still. Very cold. But he bowed his head. "Of course, Your Majesty. Forgive my... overstepping."
But I could see it in his eyes. Anger. Frustration. He didn't like being challenged. Especially not by me.
"However," he continued, his voice smooth again, "I must insist that we at least begin reaching out to potential suitors. Even if you're not ready to make a decision yet, we should start building relationships. Showing that Dravara is open to alliances."
"Fine," I said, just wanting this conversation to end. "You may... explore options. But I make no promises."
"Understood, Your Majesty." Malakor's smile returned, but it looked like a predator showing its teeth.
The meeting continued. More discussions about things I didn't understand. More decisions that Malakor made for me while pretending to ask my opinion.
And my stomach started to feel strange. Not painful, exactly. Just... off.
I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable. The room felt too hot. The air too thick.
"Your Majesty?" Garrow was looking at me. "Did you hear the question?"
I blinked. "I'm sorry. What?"
"The question about the northern bridge repairs. Do you approve the funds?"
"Yes," I said quickly. "Yes, approved."
Lord Malakor leaned forward, studying my face. "Your Majesty, are you feeling well? You look quite pale."
"I'm fine," I said. But the room was spinning slightly. The smell of the candles on the table was suddenly too strong. Too sweet. Like rotting flowers.
My stomach rolled.
Oh no.
"Your Majesty?" Kaelen's voice came from behind me. Low. Concerned.
"I'm fine," I repeated. But I wasn't. The nausea was getting worse. Rising in my throat like a wave.
I stood up quickly. Too quickly. The chair scraped loudly on the floor. "I... I need a moment. Excuse me."
"Your Majesty, perhaps we should call for a physician—" Lord Malakor started, rising from his seat.
But I was already walking toward the door. Fast. My hand pressed to my mouth.
Kaelen was beside me in an instant, his hand hovering near my elbow but not touching. "Which way?" he asked quietly.
I couldn't answer. Just pointed down the hallway.
We made it around the corner, into a small sitting room. There was a basin in the corner, thank the gods.
I barely made it before I got sick.
It was horrible. Humiliating. I heard Kaelen come in behind me, heard the door close.
"Don't," I managed to say between gasps. "Don't look at me."
But I felt him there anyway. Felt him gently pull my hair back, away from my face. Felt his other hand rest lightly on my back, warm and steady.
"It's alright," he said quietly. "Just breathe. Let it out."
When it was finally over, I slumped against the wall. I was shaking. Tears were running down my face from the effort of being sick. My throat burned.
Kaelen handed me a cloth. I didn't even know where he'd gotten it. Probably from his pocket.
"Thank you," I whispered, wiping my mouth with trembling hands.
He crouched down beside me, his green eyes full of concern. No judgment. No disgust. Just worry.
"This isn't just nerves, is it?" he asked softly. "You've been pale all morning. You look exhausted. Are you sick? Should I call a physician?"
"No!" The word came out too sharp. "No physician. I'm fine. It's just... the meeting. The stress. All of it."
He didn't look convinced. "When did this start?"
"This morning," I lied. It had actually started yesterday. And the day before. But I couldn't tell him that.
"Just this morning?" he pressed.
"Yes," I insisted. "Can we please just go back to my chambers? I need to rest."
"Alright," he said, standing and offering his hand. "Come on. Let me help you."
I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. The world tilted slightly, but I stayed upright.
We walked back through the empty hallways. I kept my head down, praying we wouldn't run into anyone.
We reached my chambers. Kaelen opened the door and helped me inside.
"Sit," he said, guiding me to a chair near the fireplace. "I'll send for your maid."
"Thank you," I said quietly.
But before he could leave, he turned back. His face was serious.
"Why do you let them talk to you like that?"
I looked up. "What?"