Lahat ng Kabanata ng QUEENS DO NOT BEG FOR THRONES : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Elouera The Grand Throne Room of the Obsidian Palace didn't hold warmth. It was a vaulted cavern of black granite and gold leaf, designed entirely to remind you that your life was a fleeting privilege granted by the woman sitting on the dais.Empress Matilda sat high above the cold floor, her throne carved from a single piece of dark basalt. She was draped in heavy crimson velvet that cascaded down the stone steps like a trail of dried blood. At sixty, her face was a masterpiece of iron and spite, unmarred by mercy, her golden eyes cold enough to freeze water in the sun.I stood thirty paces below her, my knees trembling inside my leather boots.I was barely breathing. Stirling’s rapid intervention two days ago using a rare northern salt compound he’d managed to force down my throat had stalled the black blood in my veins, but the damage remained. Deep beneath my ribs, a dull, throbbing coldness settled like lead, a constant reminder of Holden’s poison. My linen bindings felt impossi

Jace The heavy iron cuffs had rubbed my wrists raw. Deep cuts circled my arms, and every beat of my heart made them sting, but I barely noticed the pain. All I could feel was the fear twisting hard inside my stomach.Archduke Holden had kept his word.Just an hour ago, General Vane had unlocked the rusty chains holding me to the dungeon wall. He kicked me into the hallway with a cruel laugh.“You’re free to go, Commander. But you might want to hurry to the lower sectors. The Empress sent your precious little Beta prince into the Iron Sinks. He’s probably been torn apart across the coal grates by now.”I didn’t wait for the lift.I climbed down the emergency iron rungs inside the main ventilation shaft instead. My boots kept slipping on the wet, sulfur covered metal as I climbed deeper and deeper into the boiling, poisonous underbelly of the capital.Now I stood at the bottom of the central refinery crossing. Thick white steam burned my throat, making it hard to breathe. Far in the di

(Elouera’s POV) The smell of blood in a narrow stone corridor never really leaves the back of your throat. It settles into the roof of your mouth like old copper, thick and sweet and suffocating. I stood still on the spiral stairs. My bare feet were freezing against the cold stone. I could hardly breathe. Holden stood only a few steps away from me. His leather-gloved hand was still reaching toward me. Black ash from Bram’s burned letter slowly fell through the pale moonlight. It landed on Pip’s torn, dirty tunic.And this time, you will swallow it yourself. The Archduke’s words didn't sound like a threat. They were delivered with the soft, horrifying gentleness of a father putting a feverish child back to bed. That was what made my stomach turn over in a violent, icy wave. "Get away from me," I gasped out. The words didn't carry the weight of the Weaver. They came out small, ragged, and stripped bare the voice of a terrified boy cornered in a dark hallway. Holden tilted his he

(Elouera’s POV) The truth hit me suddenly, cutting through the fog in my mind. I finally let go of Holden’s coat. The dark, webbed veins on his wrist weren't a mark of shared suffering. They were the mark of a master craftsman who handled his own venom every single day. My mouth went dry, the bitter taste of copper flooding my tongue as I looked from the black lines spidering beneath his cuff straight into his warm, amber-green eyes. The tenderness in his face suddenly looked like a grotesque coat of paint slapped over rusted iron. "Take it, Elouera," he whispered again, his voice lower now, vibrating with a quiet, coercive weight. The smooth black pill pressed harder against my bottom lip, smelling faintly of bitter almonds and scorched earth. "It's time to rest." Every instinct that had kept me alive in the gutter before I ever wore silk ripped through my exhaustion. I didn't try to overpower him. I didn't try to draw a weapon I didn't have. Instead, I let my jaw relax, parti

(Elouera’s POV) “The heavy silver tunic pressed down on my shoulders, but the real burden was the anger burning inside me.I stood in front of the large mirror in my bedroom, staring at my reflection. I looked so different that I barely recognized myself. My hands were shaking so badly that the buttons on my velvet coat clicked together. I quickly reached for the tight lace collar around my neck and pulled at it, trying to hide the dark veins spreading across my skin.They weren't fading. They were darkening, throbbing beneath my skin with a thick, terrifying rhythm. Just get through tonight, I told myself, closing my eyes and forcing a ragged, shuddering breath into my tight chest. One more night. Just play the weak, quiet Beta prince for six more hours. I thought of Uncle Holden. I remembered the warmth of his hand on my shoulder, the quiet promise he had made in the dark of my room after Pip’s death, swearing he would protect me from the wolves in the court. He was the only person