The Passionate Queen (Dark Queens Book 2) (16 page)

Notching my chin, I carelessly spared her a glance, and lifting my ridiculously heavy gown, slowly and confidently strode toward my throne built of stained glass.

Sunlight poured through it, casting radiant prisms all around. I had very little magic left to me now, but there were still ways of inspiring awe.

Royal trumpeters continued to play, only blasting their final call once I’d sat. And bathed in the rainbow glow of my throne, I stared the males in the eyes.

Some were quite pretty to look at, and so long as they didn’t open their mouths often, I might even be able to tolerate them. Like the dark-haired one standing front and center, winking back at me. With his dimpled jaw, shoulder-length hair, painted face, fine-stitched clothing, and stylized cane, he was just the type of male I typically fancied for a lover.

No sooner had I thought it however, my traitorous gaze snapped to the visage of a surly dragonborne leaning against a knighted horsehead topiary. His reptilian eyes flashed with bursts of heat through the slitted irises. I swallowed thickly, shifting in my seat, because suddenly my inner thighs could not seem to stop tingling.

Angered by my continued reaction to his presence, I made an obvious point of turning my eyes from Ragoth to the male just in front of him. But I couldn’t help but see his displeasure at my act from the corner of my eye.

His strong jawline clenched tight, and those beautiful eyes of his thinned down to dangerous slits.

I pretended not to notice.

The blond-haired male was just as nice to look at as Ragoth. He had a strong profile, with brilliant-white teeth that showed when he smiled. His features were sturdy, but there was also something slightly avianistic about his mannerisms that reminded me a little of a hawk. Aware, intelligent, and bold. I had my doubts that this male was as intellectually inferior as I’d instructed they should be.

As though aware I studied him, he looked up then and smiled.

Caught, I could do nothing other than acknowledge him with a brief nod. The encounter, however, inspired nothing other than idle curiosity about the man. And even that was fleeting. Once more I found my gaze returning toward where Ragoth lingered.

No one here, aside from myself and Dru, even knew he was dragonborne; he could have easily been just another one of many different varieties of shifters living on this land. I wondered what the males surrounding him would think if they knew who he really was. Dragons weren’t normally thought of fondly, as legend said they were prone to eating those who irritated them. And considering most dragons had hair-trigger tempers, well, they were irritated often.

“Bloody hell,” I ground out. Not wanting to appear like an addlepated fool, I tried to pretend that he was nothing to me. That I wasn’t at all curious as to why he’d returned after the disaster of our last meeting, or why my heart couldn’t seem to stop stuttering stupidly in my chest, even though I was still furious with him for his high handedness.

But despite my very best intentions, my eyes constantly strayed to the strong, dominant male. Gods, he was beautiful. Broad in his chest and arms, tapering into a lean and powerful waist and lower body. With a face that’d seemed stitched together by the gods.

I dug my nails into the glass throne.

He stood out like a sore thumb when compared to the peacocking males surrounding him. Wonderland was known to be colorful; males wore face paint just as often as the females did. At times it was even hard to differentiate the males from the females; dressing the part of a dandy was currently all the rage.

I liked looking at the pretty “doll men,” at times. But when standing beside the rugged handsomeness of a brawny male who did not at all try for beauty, their looks were sorely lackluster by comparison.

There was not a trace of the boy I’d once known and loved in the man he now was.

I tapped my fingers impatiently on the armrest, waiting for Dru to get on with it already.

I wasn’t sure I could handle too much more of this waiting.

She walked in the manner associated with her station; as personal handmaiden, she was the second most powerful woman in wonderland.

Always aware of my moods, she finally stepped forward and silenced the excited chatter amongst the men with but a mere flick of her wrist.

“Welcome, landian males.” Dru’s voice carried strongly (aided by magical spells embedded within the very stones of the castle that helped amplify sound). “As you are no doubt aware, by the terms and rules of our people, the queen has declared herself eligible to be courted.”

Immediately the men began talking again, their voices rising in pitch so furiously that they drowned out Dru’s words, even with the aid of our magical stones. Tightening my jaw, I released some of my power.

I could feel how weak I was, how my body trembled and my skin coated with a thick layer of sweat to do it. How hard it was to focus the beam of that strike against the masses.

“
Quiet
!” I thundered then fought not to sag with relief against my throne and wilt from the deep-seated exhaustion now lacing my bones.

I trembled, and my thigh muscles quaked as I struggled to hold my head erect. No one noticed how much that spell had cost me. No one, save for one male dragonborne who now stood erect and on the balls of his feet, and his nostrils sniffing the air. I knew he scented my weakness, scented just how much it’d cost me to perform that pathetic bit of magic.

Magic that would have been as simple as taking a breath for me was when Charles had worn the ring.

But weak as I was, the men had stopped their talking, looking up at me with expectant awe.

Druscella curtsied in my direction. “My queen,” she said with great earnestness, “my thanks. Now”—she lifted her chin, looking just as regal as royalty should, even though she was as commonborn as I was—“there are but a few rules, and should any of you break them, you’ll be immediately terminated.”

Several of the males grabbed at their necks, and I fought not to cringe at Dru’s choice of words. There’d been far too many “off with their heads” in my past, and this new period in wonderland was about turning over a new leaf.

I cleared my throat delicately.

“That is to say,” Dru pressed on hurriedly not a second later, “that you would forfeit your opportunity as consort and be escorted from the castle grounds.”

Immediately I sensed a collective exhalation from the crowd.

“Secondly, if you’ve a magical nature, you may
not
,” she stressed, “use your talents unless within the company of the queen, and only if she allows its use.”

I knew without even having to look, that she’d looked at Ragoth when she’d said it. I almost smiled at that. The dragon would not be able to eat his rivals—if he lasted a day that was. I had plans to release him posthaste.

“Thirdly, the queen will not have final say in choice of suitors—”

I couldn’t help but gasp. I almost jumped from my throne, ready to flail her alive for her treachery. To do this before the crowd, where she knew I could not overrule her for propriety’s sake. My nails clawed grooves into the colored glass. Dru would hear an earful tonight.

“One by one and in single file, you may approach the queen’s throne. Each of you will have ten minutes to prove to the queen why you are the obvious choice to be her new suitor.”

It took everything I had not to get up and run away. This parade of men was a foul joke, and I knew in my heart did nothing to improve my reputation among my people. It wasn’t so much that I was looking for a mate that would bother them, but the pomp and grandeur of this event. Once upon a time, I would not have cared what anyone thought of my methods; the burn of shame had been extinguished the moment the heavy crown had been placed on my head.

My anger, resentment, and hopelessness had killed off whatever goodness had remained to me, and it hadn’t been until Alerid’s death that I’d been forced to confront the ugliness of my heart. And I did not like what I saw.

But without my magic, I was not a powerful enough queen to defend my people and this realm, so I’d not fought Dru on any of this. I reminded myself to sit still and pretend that all was still well with the world, even while my heart stuttered and trembled violently within me.

“May the fates be with you.” Dru ended her recital with a quick curtsey, then stood to the side and drew out her arm in a silent gesture for the proceedings to commence, and I felt so numb.

“My queen.” The male I’d noticed earlier, the one with the hawk-like tendencies, was the first to approach me. Up close I could see the splendor of his clothing and jewels; this was a man of no small means.

I’d expected beggars and thieves, and those greedy for the crown and power. This male clearly was not in need of money, so maybe it was power for him.

But his bow was deep and obeisant, and when he reached for my hand, there was a deferential and respectful manner to it.

I narrowed my eyes, reexamining my initial impression of the male. He smiled again, and this time mine was sincere.

He really did have a nice-looking face, with just the right smattering of freckles dusting the bridge of his hawkish nose.

“What is your name?” I asked, truly curious.

Giving my hand one final quick squeeze, he released it and pressed an arm to his middle. “I am called Icarus of Madrigar.”

Madrigar, I knew that realm. It was the place where Alerid had hailed from. More than just a little curious now, I nodded thoughtfully.

“Indeed.”

There was a nice quality to his voice. Velvety, yet also steely. Like Ragoth, he too was far more masculine than most of the males here. There was no face paint to speak of on him. It was...refreshing. I lifted a brow. “When was the last time you flew past the sun?”

His full lips stretched wider. My heart did not beat out of my chest for him, but there was something about Icarus of Madrigar I found myself enjoying.

Laughing deeply, he winked. “Only just.” And then I gasped when from behind his back a pair of majestic snow-white wings (like that of a giant snow owl) spread out. They were thick and looked heavy; each feather beckoned me to touch it and see if its downy appearance was more than simple aesthetics.

“Turn for me,” I commanded, unable to resist the temptation of running my fingers through his feathers.

He turned slowly, giving me a glimpse of him from each angle. He was very sturdily built, not ripping with muscle, but powerful. I blinked when he knelt before me. The stitching of his fabric was ingenious the way the slits at his back had been so well hidden, but opened when his wings needed room to come out.

I traced the line of one feather, stopping the moment I heard his harsh inhalation of breath.

“Thank you.” I curled my hands into my lap. The feather had been gloriously soft and clearly a sensitive part of his body.

Standing, he dusted off his pants, gave me a kind smile, and bowed once more. Dru was keeping an eye on the timepiece hanging on the wall behind me. Which meant I likely still had a few more minutes left with him.

“Icarus—”

“You may call me, Ic, if you’d like, my queen.”

I smiled and gently shrugged. “Ic, if you’d like. Tell me, what is it that you most enjoy doing, besides flying?”

This time when he grinned I spied a slight trace of a dimple in his cheek.

And then as if by magic, my eyes turned in Ragoth’s direction, and I knew that no matter how much I might enjoy Icarus, he failed to inspire even a tenth of the emotion in me I felt when I merely glanced at my dragonborne.

The way I suddenly felt hot and cold when his sea-glass eyes latched onto mine. And the foolish need I suddenly felt to have him rush up these stairs and snatch me up the way he had two weeks ago and fly us off forever.

I was still angry with him, damn that insufferable beast. But my heart was a traitorous thing beating within me.

But fantasy wasn’t reality. I could never leave my people, and Ragoth was entirely too debilitating to me. I could hear Icarus talking. And I wanted desperately to give him my full attention, but even with my gaze back on his, all my heart kept thinking was...maybe fate had conspired so that what should have been long ago finally was now.

And maybe...maybe he was the reason why Dru would not let me pick, because she knew I’d be too weak to him. A dragon could never run this kingdom; the people would not allow it. Would they?

But would they maybe not also feel safe with a dragon guarding wonderland? What could come against us then?

“My queen?”

The way Icarus said my title made me start guiltily. The slight harried note of it made it seem as though he’d been calling my name for a while now. His face was screwed up in contemplation, and his perpetual smile nearly absent now.

I shook my head, giving him a wide-eyed stare. “Oh, I...”

Dru, bless her, spared me further humiliation. “Your time is up, shifter male. Tomorrow results will be proclaimed. Good day to you.”

It was a trial not to lose my composure when he took my hand gently and placed a tender kiss against the top of it.

“I do hope we get to engage in further discourse, my queen.”

And then just like that, sweet Icarus took his leave.

Thoroughly discombobulated and upset at myself for letting my mind wander into thoughts of Ragoth, yet again, I was determined to make a better impression with my next potential suitor.

He was tall, with a full head of black hair and piercing green eyes. His face was almost so perfect as to be beautiful. He wasn’t as powerfully built as Icarus had been, more lean. No doubt his body was a fine work of beauty beneath his clothing.

“Queen,” he drawled with the deep bass typical of the Southern landians. His full lips pressed a hot, wet kiss to the meat of my thumb, and I startled when I felt a flick of tongue trace against it.

“What the bloody he—”

The ass dared to press a finger to my lips, shushing me.

And I was tempted, dear gods was I tempted, to shrill for the guards and tell them, “Off with his head!” But I didn’t. Instead I chewed on my tongue, growing more and more angry with each minute that passed.