The Vampire Queen's Dragon Lord

Chapter 14

The chocolate-colored satin and chiffon gown fell in slippery waves over Anastasia's skin. Only the bodice hugged her tight. Still too long by a yard at least, the dress pooled over her toes and onto the floor of her mother's chambers. Strips of the soft fabric gathered at her shoulders, falling down her back in two parallel ribbons.

"What do you think of the brown? Do you like it?"

Anastasia had to bite her tongue to keep from telling her mother to hell with the dress and inform her of what had happened on the cliffs instead. But she had to approach this carefully. She looked down to see the seamstress, Marguerite, her head bowed in concentration as she worked on the hemline. Anastasia couldn't voice her opinion with a colony dweller in the room. If her suspicions about Luthur leaked around the compound, he might get impulsive and do something rash.

"I'd prefer black," she finally replied.

The Queen fiddled with a swatch of cloth before tossing the square back in the basket. "I'm sure you would," she said, lifting her fingers to massage her temples. "It seems to be the only color you wear nowadays."

Anastasia frowned, about to ask her mother if she was feeling alright, when the seamstress stood. "My Queen," she said, "I'm sorry, but I need more pins."

Katia pursed her lips, making sure her displeasure was known, before giving the girl a flippant wave. "All right, go on and get them."

Seeing an opportunity to speak freely at last, Anastasia's pulse quickened. She followed the woman's departure from the room out of the corner of her eye. The instant the door clicked shut she stepped down from the small podium. The Queen looked up, surprise on her face. "Anastasia, what are you doing? Get back up there."

"I have to tell you something."

"But you'll ruin the dress."

"Screw the dress, mother! Listen to me," she said, dropping to her knees before her. "We must let the dragon lord go. Now."

Dark eyes gazed down at her, unfixed, unfocused. "What?"

Anastasia pointed towards the sea. "His people are out there, looking for him. Right now, at the back stairs."

The Queen's eyes narrowed in thought. "Whose people?"

"Whose people....?" Anastasia's words trailed off. She grabbed her mother's frail hands and squeezed. "The dragon, mother. The King and Queen's son. Remember?"

"King and Queen," Katia repeated in a low murmur. Her gaze was distant, focused far away. Then she yanked her hands free and stood. "They were burned." Her eyes wide and frantic, she twined her fingers together and hustled toward the door.

"Mother, where are you going?" Anastasia asked, lifting the overlong fabric of the dress and following after her.

"I burned them myself, I swear it," Katia called over her shoulder.

"Not them. Their son. Our prisoner."

"I knew I shouldn't have done it," Katia mumbled as she descended the small stairs and began to wind her way through the path to the gardens. "But the Goddess Diana spoke to me. She's so lovely, so much like your grandmother. Do you remember her?"

"Of course." Anastasia struggled to keep up, both with her ramblings and her quick pace. Unease and worry filled her heart with each step she took into the garden.

The Queen stopped at the water's edge. "She said they had to fly over the mountains, across the river and beyond the sea. See?" she asked, pointing to the farthest end of the fountain, to where the submerged model city of Davna Vremena lay shrouded in water. "Far away, where she couldn't touch them."

"She?" Anastasia's stare moved from the small pond to the Queen and then back again. What did the olden lands her grandmother used to tell stories about have to do with Declan or his parents? "Mother, what are you talking about? You and Luthur killed the dragons."

Katia spun around, her cold hands gripping Anastasia's arms. "Daughter, listen to me. There is another part of the prophecy. One Luthur does not know of. The torn part of the scroll," she whispered fiercely. "The crystal is the key, but he cannot be the one to open the door."

"Door?" Anastasia struggled to understand, fought to piece together her mother's cryptic words. However, the Queen didn't stop to explain. She only squeezed her tighter, drawing her closer until her mother's eyes were all she could see. Clear and lucid, they bore into Anastasia's.

"You must see them all cared for. You must see he lives."

"Who?" Anastasia asked. Although she suspected that deep down she already knew.

"What is going on?"

Katia blinked at the sound of Luthur's voice. Although Anastasia heard his question, heard the rustle of leaves announcing his approach behind them, she didn't take her eyes off her mother. Something was wrong. Something she couldn't place.

"What about the torn scroll?" The Queen let go of her and turned back toward the fountain.

"That is enough," Luthur's voice called from behind her. Anastasia ignored him.

"Mother, what about the King and Queen?"

"I said, enough!"

Firm hands sifted her shoulders and yanked her back against Luthur's front. Anastasia winced as he tightened his grip and bent his head to her ear. "Do stop with your questions now, Anastasia," he spat. Slowly, his hands encircled her throat. His fingertips danced around her neck in circles, light at first and then with more force, gripping tighter until she wondered if he was going to choke her to death.

"You don't want to worry your dear, sick mother. One wonders in her fragile state if she will recover."

The threat had her hackles rising. "What are you doing here?" she asked over her shoulder.

The hands on her neck stilled before falling away. He stepped around her and walked to the Queen's side. "I was going below to take care of our little....problem."

Declan, her mind screamed.

"You must see he lives."

Anastasia's heart thudded.

"But when I heard voices, I decided to come and see what you were up to. Is everything all right?"

Anastasia looked from her mother to Luthur. She knew what she had to do and, for the first time, she found the courage to do it. "No, it's not." Anastasia took a deep breath and raised her chin. "I'm going to summon the colony founders and petition for my succession to the throne a day early."

Although his features remained calm, the muscles of his jaw twitched. "Pardon?"

"In addition, I am going to request your removal as chief advisor and have my mother secluded in the temple until she recovers from whatever madness you've set upon her."

Luthur's eyes blazed and he stepped forward. "You think to send her to the women's temple," he scoffed. "You foolish girl, who do you think you are?"

For the first time, she felt a surge of power rush through her instead of fear. "I am the Queen of this horde. And you are nothing." With that, she gently touched her mother's shoulder. Dazed, the Queen turned, a glassy smile in her eyes. "Come, mother. Let's get you back to bed."

"Oh, Anastasia, your dress." The Queen pointed to the sodden and wet hem. "What are we doing out here? Marguerite---" Her eyes searched the gardens for the seamstress. "We must have her fix this."

"Shhh." Anastasia patted her mother's hand and guided her down the path. "I'll make sure it's taken care of." They had not managed two steps before Luthur called after her.

"Do not think this is over, Anastasia."

An icy chill swept up her back, but she shook it off and glanced over her shoulder at him. The malice and anger in his black eyes had a bubble of panic rising in her throat. She swallowed it down.

"And do not think you've won. For that crown you covet may just slip down and choke you one day."