Page 7 of Queen of the Cursed Egg
Leander: I have no idea that’s a dragon thing.
Abraxis: It’s never been done, to my knowledge.
Klauth: What are you thinking?
Mina: I don’t want everyone to think I’m carrying on my father’s legacy. Risedale is known for producing Shadowblades.
Balor: She has a point.
Vaughn: Can it be done?
Thauglor: What would you name it?
Mina: Sovereign … It is where Klauth is ruling from.
Klauth: Where WE are ruling from.
Ziggy: Sorry was busy watching Kai fail at shifting. Sovereign sounds amazing.
Mina: Any other suggestions? Ideas?
Leander: We can use the secret ballot bag later to read suggestions.
I facepalm at the mention of the bag.
Mina: Do we really have to?
Thauglor: What’s the secret ballot bag?
Abraxis: A therapy tool for the nest to ask questions without feeling bad about asking them.
Thauglor’s message keeps sending three dots, then stopping. It starts and stops several times, then stops.
Callan: According to the books Leander and I have been reading, it helps for the nest to talk without being called out about their questions.
Klauth: Dragons are direct. We don’t need such things.
Vaughn: Have you seen Mina in a rage? It’s not pretty, and she threatens males manhoods. I personally would like to keep all of me where it belongs.
I laugh a little and have to cover it up with a cough as Samara glares daggers at me.
Balor: Samara is glaring at Mina because you made her laugh. Vaughn is correct, though. I would like to keep myself in one piece.
The chat goes silent after Balor mentions Samara. I can only guess either the guys have a side chat or someone is explaining to the ancients about the bag. The static charge of an unread message lingers in my palm.
Samara’s class isn’t horrible, but lord save me, it’s basically arguing with a purpose. The drone of her voice fades into background noise as I watch dust motes dance in the sunbeams cutting through the tall windows. The last two classes of the day are in Shadowcarve, and two of my mates are teaching them. War Strategies with Callan—he basically uses me as an assistant. I’m the only fourth year left alive. Shadowcarve graduating class of one. A soft chuckle escapes my lips thinking about it, the irony bitter on my tongue.
Callan and I go head to head on the simulator to demonstrate how they work. Our battle is up on the big screen for all to see, the holographic images casting an eerie blue glow across the students’ faces. Of course, Klauth brings Thauglor into the classroom to watch the demonstration, their heavy footfalls, and the scent of smoke and leather announcing their arrival.
I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder at them, my concentration breaking for a heartbeat. “Let’s make this harder. You need to win in three moves,” Klauth says and leans in to speak with Thauglor, their whispers like rustling leaves.
“Are they serious?” Callan asks, and I chuckle, the sound dry in my throat.
“Deadly. Pick the scenario and let’s show the third years how it’s done.” I roll my neck, and you can hear several cracks, the tension releasing with each pop.
Klauth takes this time to speak to the class about the last four years of school, recounting all of my victories. His deep voice resonates against the stone walls, sending vibrations through the floor beneath my feet. “How come you didn’t run this year?” A third-year questions from the back of the class, his voice cutting through the respectful silence.
“She is your sovereign Queen and ruler of the Aurelian Isles,” Thauglor answers and flares his wings for a moment before Klauth places my diadem on my head. The cool metal settles against my brow, its weight familiar yet still strange. I want to grumble about having to wear it, but secretly I actually enjoy it. After all, it’s a gift from Ziggy, something that belonged to his mom. The gems catch the light, sending tiny rainbows dancing across my hands.
