THE CURSED QUEEN’S CONSORT

 Dominic's POV

 The scent of blood clung to the throne room before the first blade was drawn. It was subtle at first just a shift in the air, a tension that even the guards couldn't ignore. I could feel the gods pressing in from the corners of the world, breathless with anticipation. The court had gathered for a ceremonial reaffirmation.

A harmless tradition but nothing was ever harmless where Isabella wore the crown. She entered like a storm, dressed in shadows and fire. Her chin high. Her eyes fierce. But I could see it the strain, the cracks in her armor. She hadn't slept again and this time, I didn't think it was because of nightmares.

 It was the waiting.

We both knew another trial was coming, we just didn't expect it to arrive with velvet gloves and a silver tongue.

"Queen Isabella," Lord Harren said, stepping forward from the sea of nobles. His voice dripped with condescension. "Your mercy was… noted. Some might call it admirable."

 Some. Not him.

 He bowed low but not low enough. "But some of us wonder… do you still have the strength to protect this realm?" The entire court froze. He smiled as though he'd done nothing but compliment her hairstyle. She descended the stairs slowly, power radiating from every step. But instead of fury, she gave him a smile sharp enough to draw blood.

 "Is that a challenge, Lord Harren?" "No, Your Majesty," he said, holding up a scroll. "Merely… a petition." He unrolled it. "For a public demonstration of strength. A duel. You, against a champion of the realm. No death. Just… proof." I stepped forward, every instinct screaming. "I'll stand in for the queen." Isabella raised a hand.

"No." Her voice didn't rise. But the floor beneath our feet did tremble. "I accept." A murmur tore through the room. Lord Harren tried to look pleased but even he couldn't hide the flash of worry in his eyes.

 "Very well. My champion will be announced at dawn." He bowed again but this time, he turned his back to her before leaving. A mistake. Isabella's voice stopped him mid-step.

"Oh, and Harren?" He turned. "If your champion draws blood, I'll consider it a declaration of war." Back in the war room, I paced while she stared out the window. "You don't need to prove anything to them." "Yes, I do," she said. "I spared Mirielle. And now they think I've grown soft." "They'll keep testing you until they break you." She turned, fire in her gaze. "Then let them try." Her magic pulsed beneath her skin, barely contained.

 "They want a cursed queen?" she whispered. "Then let them meet her."