Queen of Dragons

by J. A. Armitage

  Queen of Dragons

  Kingdom of Fairytales book 1

  J A Armitage

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. 1st January

  2. 2nd January

  3. 3rd January

  4. 4th January

  5. 5th January

  6. 6th January

  7. 7th January

  After the Happily Ever After…

  Join us

  A note from the author

  The Kingdom of Fairytales Team

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019 by J A Armitage

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited By Rose Lipscomb

  Cover by Enchanted Quill Press

  Created with Vellum

  Kingdom of Fairytales

  You all know the fairytales, the stories that always have the happy ending. But what happens after all those storybook characters get what they wanted? Is it really a happily ever after?

  In this prequel, you will find out what happens next, be transported back to those lands you fell in love with and be prepared to meet some new characters along the way.

  Kingdom of Fairytales is a new way of reading with one chapter a day and one book a week throughout the year beginning January 1st

  Lighting-fast reads you won’t be able to put down

  Read in real time as each chapter follows a day in the life of a character throughout the entire year, with each bite-sized episode representing a week in the life of our hero.

  Each character’s story wrapped up at the end of every season with a brand new character and story featured in each season.

  Fantasy has never been so epic!

  Prologue

  No one understands what it's like when your mother is famous for her beauty, and you are, at best, average. Actually, I'm wrong. She wasn't famous just for her beauty, but that's how people tell the story, how people have always told the story. That was even her name for a while. No one remembered her real name. She was just the sleeping princess or Sleeping Beauty. Even all these years later, when the royals appear in the paper, my father, the king, barely gets a mention, and I'm only a footnote in my own life, destined to always be Sleeping Beauty's daughter

  My name's Princess Azia Rose of Draconis, and here is my story...

  1st January

  The sword glinted in the sun, golden flecks of light, turning to orange as the sun began its trek to the other side of the world. His colossal height dwarfed me, giving him the advantage in every way. He stood at nearly six feet five, towering over me, and his strength was unsurpassed in all the kingdom. I dodged him as he ruthlessly attacked, thrusting his sword at me mercilessly and without care. The complexities of sword fighting did not interest him. His aim was only to kill, his one desire to see his blade thrust deep into my belly. I danced around him as time after time he attacked, and I put into practice all the defense strategies I'd learned from watching my younger brothers' training. Training that, as a girl, I'd never received, and yet, here I was, embroiled in a fight to the death with a giant of a man. I knew how to handle a sword. Even without official training, I rivaled most men in the art of combat, but as my attacker wasn't schooled in good sportsmanship and his technique involved him waving his sword around haphazardly, there was very little I could do to anticipate where his next attack would come from. I thought that I'd be able to see it in his eyes, the little tells that would give away where he would next thrust his sword, but he was focused on the kill, and there was no telling where the sword would go next.

  He murmured as he fought, a strange language known only to himself. A pep talk? Who knew?

  I swerved to the side as he rushed at me full force, his blade missing me by inches. A momentary thrill of celebration ran through me, but it was short-lived. I'd barely turned back toward him when the full length of his sword was thrust into my side, right up to the hilt.

  Tumbling to the ground, I clutched my belly, wailing in agony and then became still. My eyes closed, and my screams were silenced. I was dead.

  Beside me, he giggled and rubbed his hands in gleeful euphoria. His enormous size made the ground beneath me shake with his quivering body as he too fell to the ground beside me.

  With one of my eyes open, just a slit, I watched as my brother, Remy wailed in rapturous joy. I suppressed a grin. The dead don't smile, but it was difficult not to when his laughter was so infectious. He must have looked strange to an outsider, giggling like a young child, because that's essentially what he was. With the body of a man and the mind of a toddler, outsiders rarely understood him. Picking his trick sword up, I handed it back to him with a smile. He stabbed me a few more times in the belly for good measure, the fake blade retracting up into the hilt every time, and with every thrust, another giggle erupted from his mouth.

  "Okay now," I said, ruffling his overly shaggy dark brown hair. "Time for dinner."

  "Ta Aza." He pulled himself up into a standing position, the grin of victory still plastered on his gorgeous face. He pulled me into a bear hug, which was much more dangerous than the sword fight as he didn't know his own strength. As a young child, he'd broken my arm similarly, and since then, I'd had to use a safe word with him to make him let go for fear of being crushed to death in his muscular arms.

  "Unsquash," I gasped, and he let go of me immediately.

  "Uhsqua Aza," he repeated back to me in the best way he knew how. He pronounced my name as Aza although it was Azia. I loved hearing it because, of all my other siblings, mine was the only one he even attempted.

  I felt rather than saw someone's eyes on us. Turning my attention away from Remy, I scanned the surrounding field. In the distance, the royal castle rose majestically against a backdrop of the Fire Mountains. The base of the mountain range was covered with thick purple heather, which gave the grey stone of the castle a pinkish hue in the evening light. As they rose into the clouds, they assumed a deep brilliant hue of red - one of the reasons the Fire Mountains got their name, the other being the dragons that lived up in the peaks.

  The stone bridge leading from the main entrance away from the open portcullis was quiet as was usual this time of day, and the surrounding fields showed no sign of life except the castle horses sharing the field with us and the occasional fire butterfly that fluttered around our heads. Glancing back at Remy, I saw that he was engrossed in a flower—one of his many obsessions.

  I couldn't see anyone else in the field with us, but the hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and the quietness set my teeth on edge. Scanning the perimeter of the field again, I finally saw him. Tall and blond, he stood against one of the Manzanita trees that dotted around the field. That's why I'd not seen him before. The reddish-brown of his clothes blended with the bark he leaned against. His hair was long and, at closer inspection, was not blond at all, but almost silver. The wind toyed with it, sweeping the ass-length locks out behind him in a wave of free hair and braids. He was too far away for me to see his features properly, but I didn't need to see the points of his ears to know he was a faery. I felt his magical energy even from here.

  My stomach churned at the sight of him, and I shivered as his cold energy passed through my body.

  "Come on, Remy, It's time to go to dinner." I stood and held my hand out for my brother to take.

  "No, Aza." He pointed to the flower. He didn't want to pick it. He only wanted to sit with it, looking at it and occasionally stroking the delicate petals. That's why our castle garden was full of weeds and dandelions; he refused
to let the gardeners pull the weeds up, not that much grew around here anyway in the deep-red Draconis soil.

  "We can come back and look at the flower tomorrow," I urged restlessly. The faery watched us, making me nervous. Fae were not natural in Draconis, so he had to be from one of the other kingdoms where magic was more prolific. Enchantia, maybe, where they all knew magic. That made him a stranger, and I didn't like strangers. Especially ones that were unbidden. "It needs to sleep," I added. Sometimes I had to be a little economical with the truth when it came to Remy; otherwise, I'd have to drag him, and as he was twice my size, that just wasn't happening.

  I took his hand, leading him back to the castle, brushing the dirt from my leather clothing as I went. I was a princess, and I didn't do dirt. At least, I wasn't supposed to.

  We crossed the field to the gate, which would lead us to the castle bridge. It meant we would pass the faery. He kept his eyes fixed on me as we got closer, putting me more on edge. His windswept hair was only the crowning glory to the beauty that sat below it. Tight muscular arms told me he was a fighter; some kind of warrior from another kingdom. My nerves clenched as we walked the path toward him. He held a sword in one hand—a work of art with amethyst stones in the hilt, and the other arm was casually draped on the tree next to him. As I got closer, I saw his eyes were the same color as the stones in his sword, giving an impression of otherworldliness. A pale purple that was no less dazzling for their lightness in color. I sucked in a breath at how beautiful he was. Utter perfection in faery form. No one in Draconis looked the way he did, and yet, the expression on his face was one of disgust. He wrinkled his nose and sneered at us as we got close to him.

  I'd hoped to ignore him as we passed by, but he opened his mouth to speak. I readied myself with a hello on my lips. As a princess, my parents schooled me to be courteous to the people, even the awful ones, but it seemed he didn't have the same schooling as I.

  "Is he some kind of idiot?" He nodded to Remy, who gave him a smile. Remy didn't understand what this man was saying, and even if he did, he would have loved him anyway. Remy loved everyone. Unfortunately, I understood perfectly, and his words sickened me to my stomach.

  Clenching my teeth, I remembered what my mother had told me about politeness. Then I promptly forgot it. "With a remark like that, there's only one idiot around here, and Prince Remy isn't it."

  I shot him a look that was certainly not fit for a princess and stalked past him, Remy's hand in mine, my breath held. I'd never insulted anyone before, but then again, I'd never heard anyone dare insult Remy in my presence before. The faery was lucky I didn't have my real sword on me, and that killing him would probably annoy my mother, not to mention getting blood on my tunic.

  The energy the faery possessed coursed through my body as I walked by him, but I refused to look his way again, even though I could barely breathe with the force of it. Picking up my pace, I practically ran Remy over the bridge, and once through to the castle courtyard, I ordered the guards to close the portcullis. It was a little early—usually, it closed at sundown and reopened at dawn; but, although surprised by my command, the guards did as I asked. Being the heir to the throne did have its perks sometimes.

  I was still fuming about the stranger when Remy and I traipsed into the castle dining hall. It was one of two. The grand hall we used for formal occasions and this one—the family dining room, which was just for us and our special guests should we have them. This evening, it was just the five of us. Mother, Remy, my younger brothers, Ash and Hollis, and lastly, me. My father often skipped dinners due to work commitments, and as he wasn't at the table, he would probably be at his desk in his study.

  "Azia," My mother admonished, twirling her eyes skyward as she always did when I came indoors covered in mud. "Couldn't you, at least, wash up before coming to dinner? You are a princess, not a swineherd."

  As if I was ever allowed to forget. She mentioned it at least five times a day!

  "Sorry Ma," I said, kissing her cheek and sitting in my place at the giant oval dinner table. The second I sat down, one of the castle servants brought a bowl of soup, placing it on the table in front of me.

  "Ooee Ma," Remy parroted, kissing her cheek and following my lead.

  My mother's mouth quirked to the side as her eldest son kissed her, and all at once, I knew she would be mad no longer. Remy was my secret weapon. It didn't matter how awful a daughter I was or how unkempt I came in for dinner. Remy would always back me up.

  My mother's face beamed and the beauty she was famous for shone out. Her gorgeous golden hair settled in waves down her back before curling under the bottom edges, and her makeup-free skin was flawless. She was the famous Sleeping Beauty, after all.

  "You'll have to get ready for tonight after dinner," she said, turning her gaze back to me, now that Remy was happily tucking into his dinner. "I can't have my only daughter looking like an urchin. I've left a dress out on your bed and instructed your maid to turn that's rat's tail you call hair into something fit for a princess."

  All around me, the scrape of forks against plates sounded out as my three brothers ate like we had no more food coming, despite eating a fine dinner every night. If anyone looked like street urchins, it was them, but that was ok because they were boys and boys were allowed to do what they pleased and look how they pleased. It was only I, as the daughter of the famous Sleeping Beauty that had expectations to live up to. Even though my father was the highest in all the land, his fame was eclipsed by the woman he married. And because of my mother's fame throughout all the kingdoms as the most beautiful woman to have ever lived, people expected me to be the same...except I wasn't. I wasn't even close, a fact that the press liked to point out at any given opportunity much to my chagrin.

  Like her, I was blonde, but dark blonde that almost bordered on brown. My hair didn't have the same gold that ran through my mother's hair, catching the light, giving her the look of an angel. It was also, as my mother was keen to point out, usually a mess. Not that I could be completely blamed for it. Her hair had beautiful waves. Mine had unruly curls. Add that to the fact that I was adopted. There was no way in Draconis. I could look like my mother, and yet, everyone seemed to expect it. Expect it and then point out how disappointed they were that I didn't.

  I sighed and caught my reflection in the back of a spoon. I still had mud on my nose. "What's happening tonight?" I asked casually, putting the spoon down and splashing tomato soup all over the clean white tablecloth while trying to remember what particular royal occasion I'd forgotten now.

  "Your father wants you to meet someone, that's all," she replied airily, as though she'd not just dropped a bomb on me. Her words even caused two of my three brothers stopping eating and looking up from their plates.

  "Who wants to meet Azia?" Ash, my middle brother asked, soup dripping down his chin, reminding me of a vampire after a kill. He ran his fingers through his long brown hair to pull it back from his face. At sixteen, he was turning into quite the looker. In fact, all of my brothers shared some of the beauty of my mother. All of them had her long eyelashes and high cheekbones, but they all got their square chins, dark brown hair, and height from my father. As the only adopted member of the family, I was always painfully aware that I stood out amongst them.

  "Never you mind. That's between Azia and your father," she said, sipping tea from the daintiest little cup, her little finger raised in perfect etiquette. Rosebud lips sipped at the tea, and I knew for a fact, that she wouldn't leave a lipstick stain on the teacup. Those cherry lips were all her.

  Ash and Hollis' eyes swiveled towards me, and I knew what they wanted. They wanted me to ask who I was going to be meeting. Normally, I would let them suffer and carry on eating as though I didn't care, but curiosity burned through me. No one ever asked to speak to just me. I was only one member of the royal family and not a particularly interesting one to boot.

  "Who is it, mother?"

  She placed her teacup back on the saucer and gave me a warm
smile, her eyes crinkling up at the edges. "You shall see after you've gotten yourself cleaned up. Now, eat your dinner before it gets cold."

  A picture of the man I'd seen earlier flittered through my mind. I could still feel the energy he possessed even though he was no longer near. He had nothing to do with whatever it was my father wanted me for, but the coincidence of there being a stranger near the castle didn't sit well in my stomach, and after finishing my soup, I couldn't eat any more.

  "Where are you going?" Mother asked as I took my leave from the table.

  I took the napkin from around my neck and threw it on the table. "I'm not hungry. I'm going to do as you asked and get ready for Father." The quicker I found out what was going on, the sooner I could relax.

  This brought a smile to her face. I left the room, my stomach in knots. Yes, I was the heir to the throne of Draconis, but up until now, my main responsibility had been to wear pretty dresses and be an accessory to my mother's beauty like a designer bag from Urbis or The Forge.