THE CURSED QUEEN’S CONSORT

 Isabella's POV

The dueling grounds hadn't seen this much attention in a century. Every noble, every whispering courtier, every opportunist who wanted to see a queen fall, they were all here. I stood at the center of the ring, the wind tugging at my cloak, my blade strapped across my back. I didn't wear a crown today. I wore purpose. Across from me stood my opponent Sir Varrick, Harren's favored brute. Twice my size. Covered in scars like trophies. His grin told me he thought this would be easy. I hoped he'd hold onto that illusion. It would make breaking him all the sweeter.

 Dominic stood at the edge of the arena, arms crossed, jaw tight. He didn't say a word but his eyes spoke for him. Win fast. Win smart. Don't get hurt. Too late for that. The announcer stepped forward, voice booming across the courtyard. "This duel is non-lethal. Magic permitted. First to yield or fall loses." Sir Varrick smirked at me. "Don't worry, Your Majesty. I'll make it painless." I drew my sword slowly, letting it hum with the cursed magic buried in its steel. "I won't," I said.

Then, the bell rang.

Varrick struck first, predictable, brutal, confident. His sword came down in a wide arc, meant to intimidate more than injure. I stepped aside, spun, and sliced at his side. Just a graze. Let them see me dance. He growled and charged again. And again. And again. Every time, I gave ground, parried, slipped past his swings like smoke. To the court, it looked like I was being overwhelmed. To Dominic, I could see it: He knew I was waiting.

 Biding. Drawing the beast out. Varrick roared in frustration. "Stand and fight!" I did. The next swing, I caught mid-air with a flash of silver and forced it down with raw strength. His eyes widened. "I was giving you a chance to save face," I said. Then I kicked his legs out from beneath him and slammed my blade against his throat before he hit the ground. The entire court fell silent. He blinked up at me, stunned.

 "You yield?" I asked. He nodded, breathless. "I yield." I turned to the crowd and lifted my sword high. "I am Isabella Daniels," I declared. "Queen by blood, cursed by fire, and not yours to test." They didn't cheer. They didn't dare. They just watched.

 Good.

 Let fear spread first. Loyalty would come later.

Back in the halls, Dominic caught up to me. "You made your point." "Did I?" I asked, still buzzing with power. He stepped closer. "You're not just surviving this kingdom, Isabella. You're taking it. And that… scares them." I met his eyes, heart still thundering. "Then they should be terrified of what's coming next." Because this trial wasn't about proving I could fight.

 It was to show them and I won't fall.