Chapter 15 The Wedding Night
Elara's POV
"Who is Elara?"
Drakon's question hangs between us like a blade.
"Elara is... was... a girl from my childhood. A servant's daughter I used to play with."
"You wanted to be a servant's daughter?" His eyes narrow. "Instead of a princess?"
"She was free. She could run through fields without guards. Read whatever books she wanted. Marry whoever she loved. Sometimes I envied that."
It's not entirely a lie.
Drakon studies me. "And what happened to this Elara?"
"I don't know. I grew up. Became a princess. Lost touch with childhood friends."
"You said her name like it was your own. Like you were about to claim it."
"I was tired. Confused. It's been a long day."
"Yes. It has." He turns toward the door again.
"One more thing. Tomorrow morning, I'm sending a message to Queen Morgana. Asking her to confirm details about your childhood. Simple things. Your favorite color. Your first pet's name. Things a mother would know."
My blood turns to ice. "Why?"
"Because my kingdom's future depends on this marriage being real. I need to know, without any doubt, that you are who you say you are."
"And if the answers don't match?"
"Then we'll have a very different conversation." His golden eyes glow brighter. "Goodnight, Princess Celestia. Or whoever you really are."
He leaves.
I collapse on the bed, shaking. Queen Morgana will realize the plan is falling apart. She'll hurt Lily.
I'm running out of time.
I pace for hours. Maybe warn the queen? But Sir Marcus is watching. Any message would be intercepted.
Maybe tell Drakon everything? But what if he refuses to help? Then Lily dies anyway.
The ring throbs with each heartbeat.
Around midnight, I give up trying to sleep. I throw a robe over my nightgown and slip out.
The hallways are dimly lit. Guards patrol in the distance, but none stop me. I'm queen now.
I wander without direction. Then I smell something wonderful. Old paper and leather.
Books.
I follow the scent to massive wooden doors. I push them open and gasp.
It's a library. Enormous, three stories tall with shelves reaching the ceiling. Ladders on wheels. Comfortable chairs near fireplaces.
Thousands of books.
I walk inside slowly, eyes trying to take in everything. Books about history and magic and dragons. Books in languages I can't read. Books so old they're held together with magic.
I reach out and touch one spine. The leather is soft from centuries of handling.
"Couldn't sleep either?"
I jump and spin around. Drakon steps from the shadows.
"What are you doing here?"
"This is my library. I often come here when I can't sleep." He carries a book and looks relaxed. "Which, lately, has been most nights."
"I'm sorry. I'll leave..."
"No, stay. Please. I'd enjoy the company."
We sit across from each other near a fireplace. The fire crackles between us.
"You looked amazed when you came in," Drakon observes. "Like you'd never seen a library before."
My mind scrambles. "I've seen libraries. Just not one this magnificent."
"Really? The Southern Kingdom's royal library is famous. Supposedly larger than this one. You grew up with access to it."
Another trap.
"Yes, but that library always felt like a duty. A place where tutors made me study. This library feels different. Personal. Loved."
It's true. I can feel it in the careful arrangement. The worn chairs. The way certain volumes are within easy reach.
"You're right." Drakon looks surprised. "I do love this library. It's my favorite room. The place where I feel most at peace."
He stands and runs his hand along a shelf. "Every book tells a story. This one I found in a ruined temple when I was a hundred years old. This one was a gift from my mother before she died."
His voice catches. Even after a hundred years, the pain remains.
"I'm sorry about your parents."
"Thank you. Some losses never fully heal."
We sit in comfortable silence. Then: "Do you like to read, Princess?"
"Yes. Very much."
"What's your favorite type of book?"
I almost say "adventure stories" before remembering princesses probably read different things. "I enjoy many types."
"That's not an answer. Everyone has a favorite."
He's right. I'm tired of lying. "Adventure stories. Tales of people going to faraway places."
"Why those?"
"Because they let me imagine being someone else. Someone brave and free. Someone who gets to choose their own destiny."
Too honest. Too revealing.
Drakon stares. "That's interesting for a princess. Most royalty prefer history or poetry."
"Maybe I'm not like most royalty."
"No. You're not." He leans forward. "Tell me, Princess, why do you look at these books like you've never seen a library before? Don't you have one in your palace?"