The Dragon Queen

Dark red eyes, speckled with golden flecks that glowed in certain lights, stared out through a small hole in the roof. They belonged to a girl lying in bed, wondering when it would start to rain as she watched the raging, angry clouds gather in the sky through the gap. A sigh escaped her full, pink lips as she pulled the worn little blanket, which barely covered her body, up to her chin. She lay there, her white hair splayed out across the pillow, when the downpour began, and a drop of water landed squarely on her nose.

A little smile played on Liora Vencia’s lips as she shifted her position, moving so the steady drip of water from the hole in the roof landed beside her legs instead. She reached over, grabbed a small bucket, and placed it on the bed where the water was dripping, listening to the rhythmic plinking of the droplets as they hit the container.

It was going to be another restless night for Liora, where she would have to battle the cold and the nightmares simultaneously. Every time she closed her eyes, scenes of fire and shouting flashed across her vision. Some nights, she found herself trapped in that never-ending nightmare of burning flesh and terror; other nights, she simply couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes at all.

As her eyelids grew heavy, her body slowly succumbing to the exhaustion of the day’s relentless labor, she fought to stay awake, dreading the nightmares that awaited her. One more scream in the middle of the night, and she would be at risk of having to sleep in the stables.

Liora was fifteen when the fire consumed her home, taking her mother with it. She was still fifteen when her father dropped her off at Aunt Lauriel’s manor, driving off into the night without a second glance. He had called her a monster and a murderer.

Aunt Lauriel echoed those words, ensuring that even after seven long years, Liora never forgot that her mother’s death was supposedly her fault. At first, Liora refused to accept the blame; her memories of that night were hazy and unclear. She had been asleep when the fire broke out, waking to smoke and the sensation of her bedcovers catching alight. But no one believed her. They said she was cursed, born with red eyes and white hair—marked as a monster from birth.

Living at Lauriel’s manor, or rather, at Henry Attabough’s mansion—Lauriel’s wealthy husband—Liora was reduced to nothing more than a servant. In fact, she was treated as worse than dirt by even the other servants. For seven years, she endured this, quietly saving every penny she could in hopes of escaping one day. But a month ago, those dreams were shattered. Lauriel’s handmaiden, Seraphina, had snooped around Liora’s small room in the servants’ quarters and discovered her savings. She went straight to Lauriel, who accused Liora of theft, ignoring every word of explanation she tried to offer.

Lauriel had humiliated her, forcing her to strip in front of all the servants while they searched her. Then, as punishment, she had whipped Liora nearly to death.

That night when Liora woke up screaming—partly from the searing pain of her wounds and partly from the nightmares—Lauriel sentenced her to live in a small, dilapidated storeroom outside the mansion. It was cold, cramped, and barely habitable.

Liora turned and twisted on her little straw bed, which barely had enough space for her and the bucket she kept there to catch the drips from the leaking roof. It was near dawn when she finally drifted into a fitful, uneasy sleep.

At the crack of dawn, the sharp, relentless banging on the door jolted her awake. It was Sophia, the head of the servants, who startled Liora out of her sleep, nearly causing her to jump out of her skin.

She hastily opened the door, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Oh, you filthy mutt, get dressed, wash your face, and be in the kitchen in the next ten minutes if you know what’s good for you,” the old woman spat, her voice dripping with disdain. She sniffed, giving Liora a look of utter contempt before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving Liora to scramble and prepare herself as quickly as she could.

"why cant the hag ever forget her for a moment. or maybe die in her sleep"

Liora grumbled to herself, annoyance bubbling up as she clutched her thin shawl tighter around her shoulders. She dashed across the lawn, the damp morning air biting against her skin, and slipped through the kitchen’s back door, trying to blend into the shadows and avoid any more scathing remarks from the other servants.

As Liora entered the bustling kitchen, she saw Hetty, the head chef, a sweet old woman who was busy preparing various dishes and barking orders to the kitchen staff. Pots clanged, and the smell of freshly baked bread mingled with the scent of herbs and spices. Without looking up, Hetty called out, “We have guests coming for lunch today! Might be a betrothal between Luciana and some rich family from the north, so everything has to be perfect.”

Liora felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her. It was the first time she’d been assigned to help in the kitchen. Usually, people in the house looked at her with disgust, preferring she stayed far away from their food. They either feared she’d poison it or thought she might pass some disease to them. But Hetty didn’t even give her a second glance. Instead, she pointed to a pile of vegetables on the counter and instructed, “Cut these, and make sure they’re all in different shapes. We need them for the garnishes.”

Liora blinked, overwhelmed, but quickly moved to do as she was told, grateful for a task that, for once, didn’t involve scrubbing floors or hauling heavy loads.

As Liora worked, her mind drifted to the piece of information Hetty had mentioned about Luciana’s possible betrothal. Her cousin Luciana was just like Aunt Lauriel—haughty and arrogant, with her nose always turned up as if the world was beneath her. Every time her brown eyes landed on Liora, she would crinkle her small nose in disdain, as if even looking at her was an offense. The thought of Luciana finding a match with some wealthy northern family felt almost absurd to Liora, yet it was just another reminder of how different their lives were.

But then again, Liora thought, Luciana would rather die than step foot in a family that was anything less than fabulously wealthy. She had always prided herself on her status, flaunting her fine dresses and jewelry, and making it clear that only the best was good enough for her. The idea of her settling for anything less than a rich, powerful match was laughable.

The cooking continued throughout the morning, the kitchen bustling with activity as dishes were prepared one after another. The scent of roasting meats, freshly baked bread, and simmering sauces filled the air, mingling together into a mouthwatering aroma. Hetty moved around with expert precision, ensuring everything was perfect, her sharp eyes catching every detail. Liora stayed focused on her tasks, cutting vegetables, stirring pots, and occasionally glancing nervously at Hetty to make sure she was doing everything right.

Around midday, the first guests began to arrive. Liora managed to sneak a peek from a small window in the kitchen, watching as a line of black carriages rolled up to the front of the manor. They gleamed in the sunlight, polished and grand, a sign of wealth and status. The doors of the lead carriage opened, and she saw two men step out—one older, with silver-streaked hair and a stern, composed demeanor, and a younger one, strikingly handsome, with sharp features and a relaxed, confident air. They were followed by a woman dressed in elegant, fine clothing, her head held high as if she was inspecting her surroundings.

Lauriel, Luciana, and Henry stood by the entrance, greeting the guests warmly. Liora could see Luciana’s practiced smile, her face glowing with anticipation, and Lauriel’s proud, almost smug expression as she welcomed their wealthy visitors. Liora quickly ducked away before anyone could catch her spying, returning to her corner of the kitchen.

Once the table was set, Hetty instructed Liora to stay put in the kitchen and not to venture out into the dining room. Grateful to avoid the watchful, judgmental eyes of the guests, she settled into a small corner, trying to stay out of the way. She began softly singing a lullaby her mother used to sing to her, a faint smile tugging at her lips as the familiar melody soothed her. It was one of the few memories she had left, a comforting fragment of a past that felt like a distant dream.

She was so lost in the song that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until a voice interrupted, “Am I interrupting something?”

Liora jolted, startled, and looked up to find herself staring into the greenest eyes she had ever seen. For a moment, she could have sworn they shifted colors, a flicker of something almost ethereal passing through them. The man standing before her was strikingly handsome, with sharp, chiseled features and a faint, amused smile playing on his lips. He seemed entirely out of place in the bustling kitchen, yet he stood there, leaning casually against the doorway as if he belonged.

Liora scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding. “I... I’m sorry, do you need anything, sir?” she stammered, her voice shaky. She was trying to keep her composure, but the man’s sudden appearance had left her flustered.

A smirk curled at the corners of his lips as he replied, “Not a ‘sir’ at the moment. ‘Sir’ would be my friend, who is sitting at the table pretending to be me. Right now, it’s just Kael.”

Liora’s eyes grew wide, the meaning of his words slowly settling in. “Pretending?” she echoed, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“Yes, pretending,” Kael said, his tone light and casual, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. He stepped a little closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m sure you wouldn’t go and tell on me, would you?”

There was a playful lilt to his question, but beneath it, Liora sensed a subtle warning. She hesitated, not sure how to respond, her mind racing. Who was this man, and why was he hiding in the kitchen, away from the guests? She quickly nodded, her curiosity battling with her instinct to stay out of trouble. “No, I... I won’t tell,” she managed, still trying to process the strange encounter.

Kael strolled over to the kitchen counter, casually taking a seat as if he owned the place. He reached out, plucked a strawberry from a bowl, and popped it into his mouth, savoring the taste. “Are you just going to stand there?” he asked, a teasing edge to his voice. “Why don’t you come sit here? I could use some company while I wait this ordeal out.”

Liora hesitated, glancing nervously around the kitchen. “I... why are you here? And ordeal? Aren’t you supposed to be betrothed to Luciana?” she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other.

Kael snorted, clearly amused. “Betrothed to Luciana?” He shook his head, a look of mock horror crossing his face. “That’s not the plan. My friend is the one supposed to play the part of the charming suitor today, not me. Honestly, I’d rather be anywhere else, but I thought I’d sneak away for a bit of peace.” He leaned back, studying Liora with a curious glint in his eyes. “I suppose it’s more fun to watch the show from the sidelines, wouldn’t you agree?”

Liora was stunned, unsure whether to laugh or question him further. This was far from what she had expected, and the more Kael spoke, the stranger the situation seemed.

“Are you guys thieves?” Liora blurted out, the words escaping before she could stop herself.

Kael burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the kitchen, and he laughed so hard that tears formed at the corners of his eyes. “Gods, no,” he managed between fits of laughter. “But definitely not what anyone in this house thinks we are.”

He wiped his eyes, still chuckling, and gave her a grin. “I have to admit, that’s a first. You’ve got quite an imagination.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But I can assure you, there’s no grand heist happening today. Just a bit of... strategic misdirection.”

Liora’s curiosity only deepened, but she could tell Kael wasn’t about to offer any straightforward answers.

"Oh, Liora, are you flirting with the butler? Is that your plan, to get a peek at the mansion my sweet daughter will marry into?” Lauriel’s voice cut through the air, sharp and cold, as she stood in the doorway. Liora’s heart sank, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and dread. She hadn’t even noticed Lauriel approaching, and now she felt trapped, caught in a situation she didn’t understand.

Kael turned to face Lauriel, an amused smile still on his lips, but there was a subtle shift in his posture, like a predator sizing up its prey. “Good morning, madam,” Kael said smoothly, tilting his head in a mock bow. “I assure you, there was no flirting involved. Just a friendly chat ”

Lauriel’s eyes narrowed, flicking between Liora and Kael. “Friendly chat, was it?” she sneered. “Well, I’d suggest you find better company, or else you might find yourself on the wrong side of things.”

Liora kept her gaze lowered, biting her lip to keep from saying anything that might make the situation worse.

“And Liora,” Lauriel’s voice dripped with disdain, “take your filthy self to your room, and don’t come back until everyone has left. I will not let you jinx my daughter’s happiness.”

Liora flinched at the harsh words, but she didn’t dare look up or argue. She knew better than to defy Lauriel in front of others. Instead, she nodded meekly, her eyes fixed on the floor as her heart pounded with a mix of shame and frustration.

Kael’s smile faded slightly, his eyes flicking to Liora for a moment, a hint of something unreadable crossing his face. But he said nothing, keeping his relaxed, easygoing demeanor intact.

With a quick, apologetic glance at Kael, Liora turned and hurried out of the kitchen, her cheeks burning. As she left, she could still feel Lauriel’s cold gaze on her back, and her stomach twisted with a familiar, painful knot of helplessness.

Liora was almost at the door of her little storeroom when she heard a voice call out, “Hey, Red, you never gave me your name.” She turned around, surprised to see Kael walking toward her. She glanced around hastily, checking if Lauriel was anywhere nearby, before her gaze returned to him, his black hair neatly arranged, and his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “She’s not here,” he said with a grin. “Busy eating the brains of my parents and Raul.”

Liora blinked, taken aback by his casual, sarcastic remark, but she said nothing, still too nervous to speak. Kael tilted his head, his smile widening as he asked again, “Darling, your name?”

“Liora,” she whispered, barely able to meet his eyes.

“Li-o-ra,” he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue slowly, as if testing how it felt. For some inexplicable reason, the way he said it sent a tingle down her spine, and a blush crept across her cheeks. She didn’t know why, but something about the way he spoke her name made her feel like it was the first time someone had ever truly seen her.

“I guess I’ll see you around, Liora. Better get back before my mother decides to search for me,” Kael said with a playful smile. He lingered for a moment, his eyes studying her, as if trying to understand something hidden beneath the surface. Then, with a final smile, he turned and headed back toward the mansion.

Liora stood there, watching him go, still feeling the faint tingles from the way he had said her name. It was the first time someone had treated her like a living, breathing human being rather than some cursed creature to be avoided.