"Elara, the last two weeks with you here have been—"
Hale crumpled it up. Then threw it into a potted plant.
"Elara, your beauty rivals the dawn and I would very much like to—" Crumpled.
"To the Lady Vaelor—" Crumpled harder.
"El—" Absolutely not.
"From Hale"
That was it. He handed it to the omega before he could spiral into another draft. The omega took it with the dead-eyed patience of a man who'd been standing in that corridor for fifteen minutes watching a six-foot-seven warrior lose a fight with a piece of parchment.
He knocked twice on the fitting room door. Elara opened it.
"From Beta Ironholt, My Lady."
Elara took the box and sat down.
She read the note. Read it again. Turned it over to check for more. There was no more.
✦✦✦
Four corridors away, Queen Bellatrix glided alongside her future daughter-in-law.
"We send her into that ballroom hollowed out."
"I can do that."
"You enter first. I will be a few minutes behind you. Whatever you do in those minutes, my love, is yours. Make them count."
✦✦✦
Serena stood atop a pedestal, her arms held out while the seamstress worked behind her.
"Relax, Elara. He won't be able to take his eyes off of you."
Elara had been told to relax by at least six people today. Wrong thing to say.
"Two words, Serena. He wrote me two—"
The door slammed open.
"I swear to every god in Skardos, Serena, if that's another—"
It was not a delivery.
Princess Agnes stood in the door frame. "I see they've decided to dress Skeletor in silk. A charity gift from whoever you're spreading your legs for, no doubt. Enjoy wearing the cheapest dress in the room."
Serena's eyes widened momentarily before she locked it down. Agnes was not just Bellatrix's pawn. Unexpected. Noted.
Agnes stepped inside as if she owned the chamber, her own gown a fitted sweep of pale gold silk.
"They'll stare at you because you look uneasy. You know you don't belong here and so does everyone else."
Serena turned her head, meeting her eyes. "Have I done something to offend you, Princess?"
"By existing. And by going after what's mine."
Elara's eyebrow twitched. Not a full raise. Just enough to say oh, so we're doing this.
"I'm not after anything. We're guests here, by King Tiberon's grace. If there is a misunderstanding—"
"You can drop the act," Agnes snarled, mouth twisted. "That sweet humility routine might fool everyone else, but not me. You're after Dexmon — my betrothed — and you don't even bother to hide it."
"There must be some mistake. I've spoken to Prince Dexmon only a handful of times."
"You bonded with his dragon." Agnes's voice cracked on the last word.
Serena's arms, still held out for the seamstress, lowered an inch."I didn't realize that was his dragon. If it was, I'll stay away. It wasn't my intention—"
Agnes moved in a blur and the rest never left her mouth.
SMACK.
The sound cracked through the chamber like a whip.
Serena stumbled from the pedestal, falling to her hands and knees on the floor. The taste of copper filled her mouth and she could feel a bruise already blooming across her cheek.
Elara shot to her feet, fists clenched and spine rigid with the kind of fury that usually ended in blood.
Serena pushed herself to stand, hand shaking from Agnes's words, not the slap. Bonded to Prince Dexmon's dragon. Bonded without him or anyone saying a single word about it. She did not fully understand what bonded meant, only that it was not small.
"Careful, Agnes," Elara clipped. "If what you're saying is true, then you just struck the woman bonded with the Prince's dragon."
Agnes gave Elara a Bellatrix-level once-over.
"Oh, forgive me," she cooed. "I forgot you both came from the same kennel. It is hard to tell where one ends and the other begins."
Serena stood taller, shoulders back, and stepped in front of Elara. "Strange how dogs still recognize snakes."
Agnes's eye twitched, her face reddening.
"Don't hurt yourself thinking up a comeback," Elara added lightly.
The door flew open again. This time Queen Bellatrix entered. Her gaze swept the chamber, pausing briefly on Serena, then Elara, before settling on Agnes.
Her expression softened into something warm.
"Exquisite. As always. A perfect daughter-in-law."
Agnes preened, straightening as the praise landed exactly where it was meant to.
"Queen Bellatrix," Serena said calmly, stepping back onto the pedestal. "How lovely of you to check on us."
The greeting hung in the air like a dead thing, and Bellatrix let it rot there, her focus fixed on Agnes.
"When servants speak out of turn in Viremont, what becomes of them?"
"Their tongues are cut out," Agnes answered with a maniacal grin.
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
Elara and Serena kept their faces blank. They weren't sure how much Queen Bellatrix knew of their past and they absolutely did not want Princess Agnes to find out. If the truth surfaced, that Drakenfell harbored them knowing they escaped from Viremont, to prevent war, they would be sent back. That would be the logical move and they both knew it.
Just as the seamstress resumed adjusting Serena's dress, Agnes stormed across the room, shoving her aside, then yanked Serena off the pedestal by her arm.
In one of the side mirrors, she watched Agnes slip a small blade from her bracelet and slice cleanly through the fabric. The silk collapsed, pooling at her feet, and left her completely naked in the middle of the fitting chamber.
Serena's jaw fell open, as did Elara's and both seamstresses.
CRACK.
Agnes's palm hit hard across Serena's bare ass, then grabbed the same cheek, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
A choked sound caught in Serena's throat before she could swallow it.
"Hold still, swamp whore," Agnes said, leaning in so her lips brushed Serena's hair. "I'm not done touching what should have never been brought into my court. No one would stop me."
Serena's face burned with fury and humiliation. She clenched her jaw, refusing to flinch or cover herself immediately, but the unwanted touch made her skin crawl.
Agnes's other hand slid between her legs from behind, fingers stopping where no one had ever touched her before.
Serena's stomach turned over and her entire body went rigid in revulsion. She shoved Agnes off and tried to move away. But Agnes grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked her head back sharply before she got two steps.
"Stop, Princess Agnes. Please."
Agnes's hand pushed between her thighs from the front this time, cupping her bare sex, before rubbing slow, mocking circles. Serena left her body for a moment, the way prey does when the hunter is already on top of it. She came back when Elara spoke.
"Get your filthy hands off her! Disgusting bitch."
Elara lunged forward, eyes blazing.
"Go ahead. Touch me," Agnes said sweetly, still fondling Serena. "Nothing would make me happier if you did that."
Elara froze mid-step.
Agnes looked at the woman she just shoved. "You. Seamstress. Hand me those scissors. Someone needs a haircut."
"Princess—"
"Don't make me repeat myself, omega."
Serena's mind started working again. Door, behind Bellatrix. Window, three stories down. The shears on Cass's table, six paces away. An ornamental dagger on the wall, farther.
Her options were to continue being assaulted or stab a royal bitch and run for her life.
"Enough, Agnes." Bellatrix waved a lazy hand. "You've made your point. Let the girl cover herself."
Agnes let go of Serena, lifting her chin. "Dexmon will hear what you begged me to do to you in here. Disgusting. He'll see you as a whore and nothing more."
Nobody moved until the queen and princess were out of the corridor and the door was fully closed.
Serena's eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. She pulled on a silk robe and took a steadying breath.
"Cass, I think I will wear the second dress."
Her tone was normal. As if the last ten minutes hadn't happened.
"The… other one?"
"Yes. The crimson. The one Gamma Sterling gifted."
Gavriel had shamelessly gifted her a dress that was entirely too revealing and cost more than a house. Because of course he did. She had no plans on wearing it ever, until now.
"Thank you for your help with this fitting," Serena continued. "I apologize that the first dress was ruined. It was beautiful, and I would love to keep it and have it repaired, if that is possible."
Cass straightened, professional pride flaring. "You are very kind, Lady Silverveil. Of course, we will repair it."
The seamstress hesitated, fingers flexing at her apron. "It is… quite… bold. Are you sure?"
Bold was an understatement.
"Yes. He gifted it, and it would be rude of me not to wear it."
Technically true and strategically devastating. Her favorite kind of sentence.
Agnes may have sabotaged her first choice. But Serena didn't come unarmed.
Elara flashed a wicked grin.
"Let's rattle a princess and a queen, shall we?"