The Dragon Queen's Heir [book one]

1

"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS."

I glare at my mother at the other side of the table, my mouth curved into a deep scowl. "This is the one thing I actually want to do, and you're sitting here telling me I can't because of some stupid reason like security?" I pause, shaking my head. "Oh, never mind. You never cared about me, anyway. The only thing you care about is your reputation—why should you worry about the stupid middle child that can't keep her toes in line?"

"Ashlyn, please," my mother says, rubbing an eye with one hand. She reclines back into her office chair, staring intently into my eyes. "You know that's not how I feel."

I snort. "That's not what it seems like. You try constantly being courted with anyone with even a speck of royal blood. You try being kept away from the public eye like something to be ashamed of, then your mother getting mad when you get rebellious and actually do something with your life." I narrow my eyes. "If that's not how you try feel, then please, enlighten me."

My mother sighs and clenches the arms of her chair, glaring daggers at me. "That is not how you talk to your mother, Ashlyn May Rehlia. You're grounded." She pauses, clenching her jaw. "And I'm going to post a guard by your door tonight to make absolute sure you stay as far away as possible from that Selecting. I meant what I said. You're far too important to be bothering with things like that."

Pure anger fills my chest, and my face heats up as I clench my fists. "This is ridiculous," I grind out. I whirl around, my sundress spinning with me, and swing open the door, then slam it shut behind me. I run to my room as fast as is acceptable with nothing but day sandals, my mind racing to find a way to undermine my mother's plans. There's no way she's going to force me to stay at the palace, no way she's stopping me from taking the only opportunity I have left to escape her.

Halfway to my room, a solution surfaces, and I pause in the middle of the hallway, my jaw clenching and unclenching. "If you're not going to willingly let me leave the palace, then I'll have to run away," I mutter to myself, a smiling forming on my face. I turn around and begin walking in the opposite direction to my mother's bedroom chambers, hoping what I'm looking for is in there—and my mother isn't.

I reach the door to my mother's chambers and gently knock, holding my breath to see if there's a response. "Come in!" my mother calls from somewhere inside, and my heart sinks. I'll have to come back later for the stone—there's no way I can attend the Selecting without it. I dart back down the hall and back to my chambers. Much to my relief, the guard my mother said she would put by my door is nowhere to be seen, so I have some time.

Gently pushing open the door, I'm met with the excited yelping of Lucy, the royal dog. I'd found her when I was almost eleven, right after my father had been assassinated. She had helped me cope through his funeral and the coronation of my brother, and to this day, she helps me get my anger out whenever I'm particularly frustrated with my mother.

"Hey, Luce," I say softly, crouching down to pet her. Lucy barks again and spins in a circle, her brown-and-white colors mixing into a blur before she puts her front paws on my knees and barks again. "Let's get you a treat." I stand and reach for Lucy's treat bowl, where I store all her goodies, and grab a piece of jerky, tossing it down in front of her. She immediately jumps on it, taking it in her mouth and carrying it over to her bed.

After she's gone, I grab my sketchbook off my bed, as well as all my pencils, and sit by my window, watching the palace children play in the courtyard. Beyond them sits the large port town for which our town is named. A few ships depart as I ponder what to draw, rolling one of my pencils between my fingers.

Finally, I put down the pencil and grab a piece of charcoal from my fireplace. I think of my mother and her rules, all the years of forcing me together with men and women alike in hopes of marrying me off to 'better our kingdom', as she says, even though Nightshorne is perfectly well off and doesn't need binding alliances. I've never been allowed to court anyone on my own, though as a child, I've had a few crushes on the servants, all of which ended with a stern lecture from my mother.

All of this burns in my memory, and my fingers clench, drawing stark, angry black lines on the paper. I don't stop until an image surfaces, an image that takes my breath away. It's a dragon—a figure I've seen all too often in my dreams. I run my fingers carefully over its tail, running up to its open jaws, the horns running down its back. Though I'd drawn in black and white, I remember its vivid blue eyes and its gleaming white scales.

If this isn't a sign, I don't know what is. I have to go to the Selecting.

~

That night, instead of going to dinner with my family, I ask for it to be delivered to my room. When it arrives, I quickly thank the servant and stuff everything I can into a rucksack, then set it by my bed. I slide out of my sandals and put on my stockings, praying it'll muffle the sound of my feet on the cold marble floors.

Then I slip out of my room, gently closing my door behind me before hurrying down the halls of my childhood home. Though I know I live here and it's normal for me to be wandering around, something about what I'm doing feels illegal, like if I were to be caught, I would be taken in front of my brother and tried for treason.

Stop it, Ash. I shake the thoughts out of my head and turn another corner, coming into sight of my mother's bedroom door. Hurrying towards it, I glance around me to make sure I'm alone. Right as my fingers grasp her doorknob, a voice echoes down the hall, and I freeze as my sister comes into view, her brows lowered and her eyes wide with concern.

"Ash, what are you doing?" she asks, running her gaze over my form. "Mommy said you weren't feeling good and had to stay in your room for dinner."

Of course she did. Though what else was she supposed to say to quell rumors and keep the peace? "Eve," I say slowly, crouching down to level my gaze with my seven-year-old sister. "Don't tell Mother I'm here. She'll get very mad if you do, so can you please go back to dinner and tell her I still don't feel good?"

After a moment, Eve nods, and a pang of guilt hits me as she scurries back down where she came from. I just told an innocent seven-year-old to lie. I quickly shake off the thought and push open my mother's door, steadying myself as I step inside. Glancing around to find a spot to start looking, I realize how long it's been since I've been in my mother's room. Six years, in fact. I remember sleeping in her bed the night before my father's funeral, plagued with nightmares of me being the one that killed him instead of the nameless jerk that got away with it.

Come on, Ash. Focus. Locating my mother's makeup cabinet, I hurry over, opening all the drawers I can to find the identity stone my mother uses to mask her face when she needs to slip unnoticed into the village. It's the key to my plan—if I can hide my identity as the princess of Nightshorne, I can slip into line at the Selecting unnoticed, even by my mother.

Finally my fingers grasp cold stone, and I pull it out, running my fingers over its inscriptions in the dim light. A wave of power rushes through me, and I grin, stuffing the stone into the pocket of my sundress and scampering out of the room, closing the door behind me. 

Wow, this chapter is a lot different than it was in the first draft of the story. Maybe sometime I'll share it with you guys :P Anyway, please consider giving me a vote if you enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to comment your thoughts!

~ Amber