Page 148 of The Dragon Queen Complete Series Collection

Chapter 147

It seemed obscene that a funeral would require so much scurrying around, but the death of not one monarch, but two, was such a grand affair, it made sense. I woke early to find Draven already washed and standing by the bed. He didn’t realise I saw him at first, my eyes barely opening a crack. I caught the way the grey morning light bathed his face, turning the hollows to shadow, making him look gaunt, almost fragile. The bruised purple skin around his eyes only accentuated that. When I stretched and yawned, he smiled, quickly dispelling that moment of vulnerability.

“I’d like to apologise for what is about to happen today,” he told me when he crouched down beside the bed.

“That sounds ominous,” I croaked.

“Today will be ghastly.” My hand found his, clinging on tight. “For everyone, but… I want you to know that I tried.”

“Tried what?” I sat up abruptly, something that had Ged groaning. His hand flopped around the bed, blindly seeking me, then he tried to tug me back down beside him.

“This is your first public engagement as my queen,” he whispered. “Today has nothing to do with the people my father and mother were and everything to do with the pomp and circumstance that my throne is built upon.”

“You need me to become queen for a day.”

You are a queen. Glimmer sounded as querulous as a child, and in some ways, that’s what she was.

Human queens don’t usually run around in dragon rider uniforms , I explained.

Do they wear gold? One eye opened sleepily.

Of course. I have to try to match your magnificence somehow.

That’s what Darkspire’s rider is worried about. He thinks you won’t like the clothes you have to wear.

“You need me to play a role,” I said to Draven.

“The ways in which I need you are so many it’s difficult to put into words.” I’d gone to sleep in Soren’s shirt, and it puffed up around me as Draven tugged me to the edge of the bed, then stepped between my thighs. “That’s what I’m going to focus on to get through all this. You, here, us…” He was forced to smile when Ged snorted, then started snoring again. “Even bloody Ged’s snores. Anything to ground me in reality, rather than the ridiculousness of today.”

That should’ve been warning enough of what was to come.

Glimmer and I were led down the hallway by a phalanx of maids. Women were rushing in and out of the room, their voices a high-pitched babble until I stepped inside. That silence, the way they all dropped down into a curtsey, had me wanting to protest that it wasn’t that long ago that I was covered in pig shit, but that’s not how things worked. To be queen meant putting yourself above almost every other person in the land, and that’s what they were showing me with this sign of respect.

“Good morning to you all,” I said, forcing my voice to stay strong and even. “I understand that you are helping me to dress for the funeral.”

“Daisy, Your Highness.” The seamstress bobbed another curtsey, then flushed, obviously thinking that was overkill. “Come and take a look. The prince worked so hard to come up with something you’d like.”

By all the gods, he had. I stared at the mannequin before me, taking in the flowing black skirts, the leather bodice that had been stitched into a much more stylish version of a rider’s uniform, but rather than silver insignias, golden metal covered the arms. If I were a man and a knight, they would be called pauldrons: metal armour used to protect the shoulders and arms from a sword’s blows, though I was willing to bet no knight wore them crafted from gilded steel. They shone in the morning sunlight, glittering like newly minted coins.

Oh, I like that. The women heard Glimmer’s croons, stepping back abruptly to allow her to pass, then cooing over her response. I saw their fingers flex, wanting to pat my bondmate like a dog, but Glimmer was far more than that. Gold . My dragon turned my way. You need more gold. It’s what marks you as a queen.

I’m fairly sure my dragon would be a queen if she had black, blue, red, purple, or green scales, but before I could say anything, there was a sharp knock at the door.

“The breastplate,” Daisy said, bustling forward.

Draven had gone all out. He’d had a cuirass of sorts made for me, also of gilded metal. I stared in disbelief as it was brought into the room, and I wasn’t the only one. Each maid watched Daisy’s every move until she noticed their presence.

“What’re you…?” Daisy said, her eyes widening, then narrowing as she glanced at all the maids milling around. “The queen-in-waiting does not need an audience for when she dresses. Off with you, all of you!”

A violent wave had the women scattering, just leaving Glimmer, the seamstress, and myself.

“Now we see how this fits.” She locked the door and then pulled the dress down from the dummy. “We’ve got time for a few quick alterations,” she said, eyeing me and then the dress. “But His Majesty seemed to think he had your measurements right, and I dare say he was correct...”

He was. It was a strange thing, pulling on a costume custom made for me. It felt like I was spending most of my life in the uniform of a dragon rider, but now I needed to don the one of a queen. The bodice was a complex mix of straps and decorative embossing, the black skirts flowing over my now booted feet. The gold pauldrons felt heavy, but also strangely reassuring, across my shoulders. Daisy was forced to call some maids back to help with the breastplate, the lot of them confused about how it went on. I was no better, having little experience with armour. We worked it out eventually and then it settled over my bust.

It was a decorative thing, with no real practical purpose. My stomach was bared, unprotected, and yet… I stared into the mirror, seeing not Pig or Pip or even Pippa, but…

A queen , Glimmer finished for me. Your outside matches your inside.

Was that what it was? I glanced back at my reflection, seeing that Glimmer had joined me. She was getting so big, now up to my mid thigh. There were ponies the size of her, ridden by children.

We are both queens , I agreed with a nod, and that’s when Daisy had to ruin everything.

“Your hair is beautiful, Highness.” Daisy was bobbing up and down frantically in some strange dance of obeisance. “But we were concerned that from a distance?—”

“I’d look like a twelve-year-old boy?” I finished for her.

The poor woman’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“I took the liberty… I found…” By all the gods, we’d be here the entire morning if I didn’t calm the woman down. My hand reached out and took hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “There’s a wig.”

Of course there was. There was one back when I first came to the capital, so why wouldn’t there be one now? A far grander one this time, Daisy produced a cap of flowing blonde hair and held it out for me to inspect.

“It’s fine, really,” I told her, then bent my head.

Was it?

Daisy fixed the wig in place and then stepped back, gesturing to the gilt-framed mirror set up at one end of the room.

I didn’t know the girl, no, woman reflected in the glass. She was a version of myself that had never experienced my step-family’s cruelty. There would’ve been no need for her to fight her way back into my family estate and rescue Glimmer’s egg from being smashed to the ground. This girl would’ve greeted the dragon riders when they visited my estate, be welcomed in before I was brought before Glimmer’s egg. Gods, maybe I would’ve been brought to court and bonded with her on the sands. No pigs, no lice, no need to shave my head, I wondered what sort of queen that Pippin would’ve been. I’d never know because I wasn’t that girl anymore, but for today… The wig felt odd, itchy, and hot already. Today I could pretend.

“You have done great work, Madame Daisy,” I told her. “The prince… the king will be pleased.”

“Really? Milady… Highness, you look like the queens of old.” Her teeth worried her bottom lip. “What was her name? I never paid attention in history. Inara?”

I wondered how long and hard she’d worked because the poor woman looked beside herself. The lines on her face were becoming more apparent as tears pricked her eyes. I moved forward to comfort her, to try to make sure Draven hadn’t pushed her too hard, but didn’t get a chance. The man himself came strolling in through the door.

His tailor had worked just as hard. The severe black of a rider dress uniform had been elaborated upon. Rich fabrics, intricate detailing, all subtle and yet making clear the sheer number of hours to make something like this, created a sombre gravitas. That was somewhat alleviated when he smiled at me.

“I realised when you were away that trying to turn you into the kind of queen my mother was would’ve been a nightmare.” He took my hands in his and then inspected me slowly. “You aren’t, will never be like that bitch, so why would I even try? No, you are the kind of warrior queen we need at this time.”

But I wasn’t, I wanted to tell him. I was a bookish queen. A queen of quiet corners and contemplation. He clicked his fingers, another footman scurrying forward with the final part of my costume. A sword of all things, it was slender and made from black and gold materials. I suspect it was just for show because it was quite light as he strapped it to my side.

“You’re going to forgive me for everything I must do today.” This was whispered almost into my ear. “Tell me that is so.”

Telling anyone that was foolish, but… whether he mourned them or not, today Draven was burying the last of his immediate family and that earned him some leeway.

“I’ve forgiven you everything you’ve done thus far.”

He jerked back, eyes wide, the mask slipping for just a second, a troubled look crossing his face before he smoothed his expression into a neutral one.

“If you can do that, then we might just survive all of this.”

But at what cost?

We walked down the palace’s grand staircase to find the rich and the powerful forming an honour guard for us. We walked past Draven’s Nithian relatives, earls and marquis, but only Stefan winked at us. The representatives from each of the three remaining duchies were there as well, heads bent, only their finery identifying who they were. Then there were the officers of the dragon corp, standing military straight and staring straight ahead, perfectly at attention. Beyond that were the doors of the palace and the people of Nevermere.

Merchants and the upper middle class had found positions closest to the palace. We climbed into an open carriage, the black shrouded coffins to precede us. Darkspire landed on the ground at the rear, letting out a god-awful roar to alert all and sundry of his role. What Draven did, he did with the support of dragon kind.

Well, at least some of them.

Hadrian landed on the roof of the palace, several other male dragons I didn’t know staring down as we passed. They observed, but did they support us? We would never know unless they wished us too.

No sign of Cynane, I said to Glimmer, who sat perched up on the front seat of the carriage.

She conserves her energy, my dragon replied.

From the long trip, I assumed. That made sense. She’d lived in the world since before the reign of Queen Inara, someone Draven unconsciously had sought to draw parallels between in his choice of costume for me. I couldn’t ponder any other queen’s fate right now, not when I was required to pretend I was one.