All Chapters of QUEENS DO NOT BEG FOR THRONES : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Elouera The first thing I noticed was not the bright candlelight or the cold stone beneath my back. It was the fact that the fire inside me was gone. For the past twenty-four hours, my body had felt like it was burning alive. The pain had been unbearable, as if fire were eating through my bones and tearing apart my nerves. But now, all of it had disappeared. In its place was a strange, deep warmth flowing through my body. It felt as though liquid gold were moving through my veins. For the first time in hours, breathing didn’t hurt. Every breath came easily, without that terrible pain in my chest. My eyes flew open, and I gasped. Panic hit me so hard that my chest tightened. The garden. The fire. Holden. The Empress. I suddenly sat up, my hands rushing to my neck and collarbones. I expected to feel the bindings around my chest, the blood on my clothes, or the hands of someone trying to hurt me. I needed to get away. I needed to run. But my fingers touched dry, soft cotton inste

Crown Prince CallanThe glass roof of the Grand Conservatory was built to show everyone that the Imperial family could never be defeated. But by dawn, the ballroom had become a place of death and broken dreams. The air smelled of sour wine, dried blood, and shattered illusions.I stood in the middle of the ruined ballroom, my heavy leather boots covered in wet gravel and mud from the gardens. Rain continued to beat against the glass roof, washing the soot from the burned hedges outside. But nothing could ease the anger and humiliation burning inside my chest.Around me, the nobles of New Avalon moved like frightened ghosts. Foreign visitors gathered near the marble pillars, whispering nervously as they kept glancing toward the doors. Noblewomen who had spent the evening laughing beneath the chandeliers were now crying into their embroidered handkerchiefs. Their expensive gowns were ruined, and their pride had been crushed.The Equinox Gala was supposed to be a glorious night that woul

Elouera The Grand Apothecary’s records room smelled of dried plants, old books, and something rotten. I hid in the narrow, dark space behind the tall wooden shelves in the lower records room. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it would jump out of my chest. Outside the iron door, I heard guards marching along the stone corridor. They were changing shifts. I had less than ten minutes before the man in charge of the records returned. My hands shook as I pulled a thin iron lockpick from beneath my fingernail and carefully worked it into the rusty padlock on Master Vane’s private cabinet. Click. The lock opened. I quickly reached into the drawer, pushing aside records of cough medicine and fever treatments until my fingers touched a thick bundle of papers tied with a ribbon. The Imperial Crest was stamped on the seal, but someone had already broken it. This was a hidden copy of the original records, secretly kept by the old apothecary before his sudden death three months a

Elouera The power of an empire meant nothing compared to the silence of a man who had decided he was willing to die for you.I stood in the middle of my bedroom, staring at my reflection in the dark, polished wooden wardrobe. The high lace collar of my velvet shirt felt tight around my neck, hiding the faint golden mark Jace’s fangs had left on my skin.Outside my heavy wooden doors, the palace corridors were unusually quiet. But beneath my feet, I could feel a faint, steady vibration. Soldiers were being moved into position, preparing for a war no one was openly talking about.The trapdoor in the lower maintenance tunnel hadn’t dropped us into the forgotten vaults beneath the city. It was actually a hidden iron gate designed to force unwanted visitors into the drainage tunnels.Jace and I had struggled through the darkness, climbing back up through filthy water and freezing mud. We had barely escaped before the palace guards realized we were missing.We had survived the fall, but th

Stirling Vance The cold rain in the capital did nothing to cool the anger burning inside me. It only turned the dirt in the outer courtyard into wet mud that stuck to my heavy leather boots. I leaned against the shadow of a large marble pillar overlooking the East Wing gallery. My thick wool cloak covered my broad shoulders, keeping the rain off the linen bandages wrapped around my ribs. Every breath I took reminded me of the injury Crown Prince Callan had given me with his broadsword. During the Gala, the royal Alpha had fought like a madman in the gardens after the strong scent of heat filled the Grand Conservatory. Callan thought he was the only one who had noticed the strange change in the air that night. He was wrong. I narrowed my amber eyes as I watched two people walking down the long, torch-lit corridor about thirty paces away. Commander Jace Corowa walked with the steady, powerful steps of a trained killer. But he wasn’t wearing his usual combat uniform or leading the