Page 21 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
There’s a ruckus, a rumble of excitement. The last of the servers leaves the kitchens—including the one I think is the head chef. With wide grins on their faces, they carry platters of skewered meat. The first of the skewers is placed upon my plate before they walk about the tables, ensuring they distribute the skewers amongst the clan.
“Monitor meat,” Scorpia explains. “Giant lizards we’ve learned to farm.”
Considering the celebration, they’re clearly prized livestock, the meat prepared for special occasions. The last time someone slaughtered an animal in my honor was my wedding, back when I had the sanguinity that follows women of childbearing age. We celebrated then, when there was hope.
My heart shakes with the memory, recalling how I saw my new husband with curiosity, thankful he wanted me despite my strange mark. I believed I’d be pregnant within the year, caring for my beautiful baby while he worked the sea. It was to become my life.
I have made my own path since then. Or at least, I’ve tried. I still grieve the loss of a child I never had, my gaze locked on the northern horizon—toward Wisp. I swallow. Was this always my fate?
I’m not sure whether I’m celebrating the end of my former life or the start of something new, but I inhale the enticing scent of cooked meat, knowing nothing will be the same.
The last of the meat is served, but still no one eats. They look expectantly at the head of the table, and when the last of the servers settles, Kaliyah stands.
“Tonight we welcome Reina, the Blessed One,” she addresses the clan. “Her transformation starts a great transition for our clan, one that I understand may come as a surprise.”
Scorpia laughs, sounding derisive, as she stares down Drakon. She seems to blame him for this, yet he holds her gaze, brows raised, almost apologetic. He doesn’t back down.
“As for me,” Kaliyah continues, “I see this as a grand opportunity to learn our fate. We will rise from the limbo that has held us stagnant for decades, and together, we will face our fate.”
“You set this up,” Scorpia whispers, her voice growing louder as she realizes the others are listening. “You and Drakon together. You broke our agreement to delay this—encouraging her transformation without consulting the clan.”
Kaliyah blinks.
Scorpia grins, knowing she is being heard, and continues, speaking louder. “Even if it is as they claim, that the Maledictum appeared on the throne, I blame Drakon for his negligence. He never should have been guarding the human alone.”
Drakon growls, his eyes flashing red as his body tenses. But he hesitates, swallows down the aggression, and stands to address the clan. “I would like to take this opportunity to apologize that Reina touched the Maledictum under my watch.Wisp compelled her. To be clear, it wasnevermy intent for her to become the Blessed One without the clan’s approval.”
Hushed whispers fill the chamber, and I can sense the clan is trying to make up their minds, unsure of whom to believe.
I’m not grasping the nuances of the debate, but if the clan needs clarity, I can speak for myself. I stand. “I think Wisp chose me long ago,” I say.
My voice sounds like a squeak—I’m not used to addressing a crowd. Scorpia raises an eyebrow, her smirk growing larger the longer I stay silent, failing to find words to follow the first.
Eventually the hall quiets, and I swallow, wetting my dry throat. I’ve spent my life allowing others to speak for me, existing in the crannies of society. For the first time, I have power, a power I’ve been hungry for. Only now that it’s in my grasp, I don’t know how to wield it. Words fail me.
Scorpia laughs, making my stomach twist. She speaks since I cannot. “Reina is like a mouse—see how she squeaks! She can’t possibly face the throne’s rite and survive. We do not want another human’s death on our hands. Let us tell Reina to move on and leave our clan, let us be forever cursed. It is the best way. This banquet is nothing but a hopeful charade.”
A growl gathers in my throat, but Drakon is driven to speak first, his anger rising faster. He slams his fist on the table. “Reina is far more than she seems.”
His provocation is met with disdain from the clan, many of whom give way to hushed whispers while a few shout out, urging him to remain calm. It seems he has overstepped.
Meanwhile, I’m still standing, mouth gaping.
“I…” I start again. “I want to give you a chance,” I whisper.
Why?Why do I bluster now? A flush claims my face.
Scorpia chuckles again, and a few join her.
The growl in my chest rises to something useful. My lips part, and a guttural sound escapes me. I cry, “Wisp choseme long ago with a scaled birthmark. When the Maledictum appeared, I was compelled to touch it—my arrival is no trick. And while I’m confused, I’m eager to learn. If I choose to break your curse, I am not afraid of facing the throne’s rite.”
Finally, my words shift Scorpia’s mood, her laughter receding into a scowl. She shrugs, declining to respond, and turns to Kaliyah, who has remained standing despite the disruptions.
Kaliyah lifts her drink, and the clan does the same. I mirror them, avoiding the alcohol and selecting the infused water. The elder gives a final toast. “To Reina, our Blessed One.”
“To Reina,” the clan returns.
It’s strange to drink a toast to myself, but my throat is dry, and I lift the cup to my lips. The drink is too sour, too much lemon, I think, and my lips pucker.
