The Passionate Queen (Dark Queens Book 2)

by Jovee Winters

  “Get up, you have men to meet and greet.”

  Somehow, without my even noticing, wonderland had transformed itself into an oasis for good-looking men. I knew Druscella had been entirely serious about my remarriage, but I’d hoped the banners and the call for eligible free men would have taken longer than two weeks’ time.

  I’d been very clear on my instructions to Dru: beautiful men with not much in the way of brains. If I had to marry someone, I preferred they be pretty and silent. This was a monarchy, and I aimed to make whoever wore the ring next, know it.

  Even knowing this though, I had no desire to meet any of them. I didn’t want to marry. I didn’t want the frivolity of staged events meant to show off their prowess to myself and my people.

  My people were suffering; Charles and my reign had been more of a dictatorship than a benevolent rulership. I’d had time to think through things, and I was determined to make a fresh start. To show the denizens of wonderland I was different, I could change. Could be better.

  There was only one problem with my newfound convictions; I had no idea where to start. And I was certain that a month-long “party” was definitely not the way to go about fostering magnanimous relations.

  Dru though was not to be deterred. She marched over to my floor-to-ceiling windows and shoved the curtains open then opened the windows. Immediately the blast of trumpets and the acoustics of timbrels set my teeth on edge.

  I glared at her, even while squinting against the bright morning sun. “I do not want to go out there, Dru. You cannot make me.” I crossed my arms, acting like a child. Yes, I knew it. But I didn’t care.

  Something in my gut told me that after today everything was going to change and not necessarily for the better.

  Pausing only long enough to arch a brow at me, she scoffed and shook her head. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re a queen and don’t get to decide things for yourself. You’re going. Even if I have to drag you out of this castle kicking and screaming. Now, dress as regally and beautifully as possible. You’ve suitors to meet.”

  She clapped her hands at me, gave me a stern look, and finally, finally, I grumpily flounced out of the bed. I was completely nude, as was my way when I slept.

  Which caused her to gasp, twirl on her heel, and shake her head. “A little warning, my queen.”

  I laughed. “You wished me up, I’m up. But don’t expect me to be happy about this. I am not. And so help me, if there is a man in the lot with half a brain down there, I’ll flay you alive.”

  She snorted, still puttering about with the drapery. I clapped my hands, commanding my royal dresser to come in here and assist me with this ungodly gown I’d be forced to wear today.

  The mousy little man came sauntering in just a moment later, with his head dipped low and his eyes cast down. He wasn’t my normal dresser; it seems I’d lost him the day of Charles’s funeral. But I at least knew the man waiting on me this morning.

  “My queen,” he said in a deceptively deep voice.

  “Dress me, Miles. And let’s be quick about this.” I glared at Dru when I said it. “Apparently there are men awaiting my presence below.”

  “Yes, my queen.” He bowed deeply then scurried around the room gathering trinkets and baubles to dress me up with.

  As he worked, I talked with Dru. “How good-looking are they?”

  She pursed her lips. “I’d say the least of them is at least a seven, while the best are all tens.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I shouldn’t trust a happily married woman; you all have a tendency to see the world through rose-colored lenses. Speaking of which, did you instruct the groundskeepers to paint the roses red?”

  Dru sighed. Charles had gone behind my back weeks ago. I’d ordered red roses, and he’d switched out the order for his favorite white roses. The bastard. He hadn’t ruled for over a decade, and yet he’d vexed me in his own way whenever possible.

  “Of course, I did, my queen. Now stand still for Miles before he accidently pokes you with a pin.”

  I glared at Miles. “He’d better not.”

  The reprimand had come out haughty, and I cringed to hear it. Already my convictions were falling by the wayside. It was familiar and easy to be an unfeeling shrew cat; I had no idea how to be anything but.

  Dru gave me wide eyes; clearly she’d heard my temper too. Slamming my eyes shut, I took a deep breath and waited until after Miles had fitted the gown over my head to say, “I apologize, Miles, you did not deserve such rudeness.”

  His eyes when he looked at me couldn’t have been more shocked. There were at least twenty sticking pins poking out of his mouth, or I was certain he’d have gaped at me too. Feeling uncomfortable by the weight of his shocked stare, I rolled my shoulder.

  “Well.”

  “Yes, ma’am, right away, ma’am,” he mumbled around his mouthful of pins and quickly got back to work.

  Looking back at Dru, I asked her silently with my eyes how I’d done. Her response was a nose wrinkle and a so-so hand wave.

  I sighed. Why did being nice have to be so bloody difficult?

  Miles finished almost an hour later and quietly exited my room. I stood in front of the floor-length mirror, staring at a woman I’d come to loathe.

  She was beautiful and haughty. With sun-spun golden hair and almost colorless blue, brilliant eyes. My face had been painted in the style of wonderland royalty, with dark filigree eyework flaring out from the corners and a bleeding heart drawn beneath my left eye. The crown resting upon my head was easily five pounds of hammered gold and gaudy jewels.

  The gown, a rich brocaded gold, crimson red, and deepest black, seemed practically painted on. My waist looked impossibly tiny, and my hips flared out ripely. Breathing was difficult in the silk, whalebone corset, but it did what it’d been designed to do and made my somewhat underwhelming breasts seem like full melons ready to burst free with one good sneeze.

  I was a painted, gilded bird trapped in a cage.

  Frowning, I almost really did tell Dru to send the men packing. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but my loyal maidservant latched onto my wrist and squeezed.

  “Open your eyes, my queen.”

  I did as she said, ashamed to see the now sparkling sheen of my eyes.

  “Change takes time, patience, and a great deal of faith. You can do this. Remember you are not alone; in this court, there is one who loves you. And possibly even two now. Did you see the bounce to Miles’ steps when he left?”

  Cracking a half a smile, I patted her cheek. “You’re too nice to me.”

  “Pshaw.” She waved my hand away. “I simply can see the jewel beneath the raw stone. And soon, everyone else will too. Now.” She crooked her elbow. “Let us meet the beauties awaiting you below.”

  ~*~

  Ragoth

  I wanted to vomit at the sight of so many males in her court. Lena was very beautiful, so I wasn’t surprised so many men wanted her as their own, but the chatter amongst them, the insipid nature of their very being was an insult to not only me, but her as well.

  The banners had asked for males from Kingdom who wished a chance to court their queen to come and meet her on this day. The specifications for the desired males had been very specific.

  Between the ages of twenty and forty, with tight, firm bodies and an intellect well below average. The banner hadn’t out and out said that of course, but in order to enter her courtyard I’d been put through a series of questions. Asking me about obscure philosophers and mathematical questions. I’d noticed that anyone who’d answered the questions correctly was immediately dismissed.

  I found it very interesting that my Lena wanted the equivalent of an amoeba by her side. So, I’d been forced to swallow my pride and give wrong answers to every question. It’d galled, but...

  I savored the rich sherry in my long-stemmed glass, walking between groups of men. Some of whom were doing calisthenics out in the open. Sit-ups, pushups, and there was even one man forcibly picking up an
d lifting other men above his head with great gusto.

  “She’s going to pick me of course. I’m rich,” a towheaded male with long black lashes drawled. Tall and athletic looking, he had the type of jaw you could cut paper on, and smelled of fresh meat.

  I supposed that were I persuaded to enjoy the male flesh the way I did female flesh, I would consider him pretty to look at, but his lack of intellect would make me eat him only half a minute after meeting him.

  “No,” the male standing beside him said, “she’ll pick me. My family comes from a long line of silk manufacturers, and we all know how pretty our queen likes to look.”

  I smirked. Being nobility myself, I knew that the truth of the person was rarely revealed to the outside world. What the layman saw was seldom who we actually were. I’d stake my life on that truth.

  And with a flourish of his wrist, the man produced a glimmering swath of violet silk, smiling as though he’d done something so terribly impressive. “I can provide her with the best of silks all the days of her life.”

  The male, black haired with deep, violet-colored eyes and a dimple in his chin, was not quite as pretty as his blond-haired counterpart. For my part, they were reminding me that I’d not eaten a thing in two weeks.

  But I was here to play nice. Growling stomach be damned. I’d made a mess of things with Lena once before; I would not do it again.

  No matter where I turned, I continued to bump into one idiot after another. All of them showing off their magical abilities, if they had any. Some were interesting; one man produced gold just by touching something. But some were far less interesting—as was the man who could call frogs to him with a short whistle.

  “I suppose if one’s hungry enough,” I muttered beneath my breath, underwhelmed by the quality of Lena’s options. At this rate, she’d have no choice but to choose me, even if she did currently despise me.

  I sighed.

  Leaving the fools to chat amongst themselves, I meandered instead through her gardens. The topiaries were wondrous creations of lights and plants that almost seemed to defy gravity as they danced in the gentle breeze. There was an elephant on stilts and a flamingo in a tutu holding a queen of hearts card, to name a few. The grounds itself was also beautifully decorated like a checkered board; one swath of grass was light, then another swath was dark, and it alternated back and forth so that it almost appeared as though you were part of the game.

  Fairies danced and spun above me, lighting the cerulean sky with little pinpricks of fiery flame. I plucked a dragonfruit from a tree and munched on it, hoping Lena would make an appearance soon, as I wasn’t certain how much longer I could play nice.

  To be sure it’d been over a decade since I’d met with Zelena, but none of this pomp and ceremony made me think she’d had a hand in it. Lena had aspired to more in life, she’d wanted the finery and jewels, but she’d never been the flashy, showy kind either. I’d always thought of her as understated elegance. She hadn’t had to try hard to be regal and sophisticated, because it’d been an innate trait. Dressed in rags, with hair unkempt and unwashed, covered in dirt and reeking of muck, but she’d known who she was even then.

  Always she’d held her head high and her spine straight. A queen in the making, she hadn’t needed to tell me so, because I’d always been able to see the proof of it.

  Suddenly the rhythm of the music changed and trumpets blared. Guardsmen dressed in royal livery moved like marching ants, rushing to the base of the long spiral staircase; once there, they slammed the butt of their spears loudly to the stone floor, causing the courtyard to echo with the loud snap of their timed precision. Holding absolutely still, they looked menacing and foreboding as they stared straight ahead with a deadpan look.

  The queen was coming.

  I stayed where I was, waiting for my first glimpse of her, and my heart felt as though it’d stopped beating the moment she finally came around the corner.

  She was dressed in a spun creation of fabrics and colors that stole the very breath from my body. She looked like a wild rose, at once beautiful but also dangerous.

  But it wasn’t the clothes or the wild make-up that had me feeling breathless. It was that luminescent sheen only I could ever see glowing from beneath all of it.

  “My goddess, Lena,” I murmured.

  I was a good fifty feet from where she stood, and yet, I knew she’d heard me, because her head snapped up, and her eyes that seemed so dull just a moment ago now burned with flame.

  Angry at me or not, I wanted her. I would never not want her.

  I smiled. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving. You will be mine. You’ve always been mine.”

  Her spine went rigid, and her jaw hardened. I knew there’d be hell to pay for showing up uninvited, but this was a war I’d come prepared to battle.

  ~*~

  Zelena

  I wanted to wring Dru’s neck for not warning about Ragoth’s arrival.

  The sane part of my brain understood that my maidservant probably had been as clueless as I, considering she’d sucked in a sharp breath at almost the exact same moment I’d spotted the beast.

  But I still wanted to wring her neck.

  “Dru.” I practically barked her name and left it at that. She understood the meaning. My pretty little intelligent servant understood me well.

  Wringing her hands together, she leaned into my ear conspicuously, acting as though she were fixing a loose ringlet of my hair. “Sit, my queen, and allow me to speak for you.”

  Glaring frostily at her, I debated whether to throw a fit and have my guards forcibly expel Ragoth from court or do as she said and let her fix it. Though how she planned to fix this mess was beyond me.

  There were few rules when it came to a royal courting. I would have my pick of potential suitors, narrowing them down from many, to a few less, then to three, until finally I settled on my future consort.

  I’d decided I would no longer bear the presence of a king in these halls. No male in Kingdom was worthy enough to hold its rank, and I would not have any interference in how I chose to run my future kingdom.

  Which meant there was no room for Ragoth. Dru had never steered me wrong. Everything inside of me screamed to have the beast tossed out, but it would set the wrong precedence. From here on out, I refused to be the queen who screamed, “Off with their heads.” I would be refined in all things, even when currently seething hate at a certain dragon male.

  Notching my chin, I carelessly spared her a glance, and lifting my ridiculously heavy gown, slowly and confidently strode toward my throne built of stained glass.

  Sunlight poured through it, casting radiant prisms all around. I had very little magic left to me now, but there were still ways of inspiring awe.

  Royal trumpeters continued to play, only blasting their final call once I’d sat. And bathed in the rainbow glow of my throne, I stared the males in the eyes.

  Some were quite pretty to look at, and so long as they didn’t open their mouths often, I might even be able to tolerate them. Like the dark-haired one standing front and center, winking back at me. With his dimpled jaw, shoulder-length hair, painted face, fine-stitched clothing, and stylized cane, he was just the type of male I typically fancied for a lover.

  No sooner had I thought it however, my traitorous gaze snapped to the visage of a surly dragonborne leaning against a knighted horsehead topiary. His reptilian eyes flashed with bursts of heat through the slitted irises. I swallowed thickly, shifting in my seat, because suddenly my inner thighs could not seem to stop tingling.

  Angered by my continued reaction to his presence, I made an obvious point of turning my eyes from Ragoth to the male just in front of him. But I couldn’t help but see his displeasure at my act from the corner of my eye.

  His strong jawline clenched tight, and those beautiful eyes of his thinned down to dangerous slits.

  I pretended not to notice.

  The blond-haired male was just as nice to look at as Ragoth. He had a strong profil
e, with brilliant-white teeth that showed when he smiled. His features were sturdy, but there was also something slightly avianistic about his mannerisms that reminded me a little of a hawk. Aware, intelligent, and bold. I had my doubts that this male was as intellectually inferior as I’d instructed they should be.

  As though aware I studied him, he looked up then and smiled.

  Caught, I could do nothing other than acknowledge him with a brief nod. The encounter, however, inspired nothing other than idle curiosity about the man. And even that was fleeting. Once more I found my gaze returning toward where Ragoth lingered.

  No one here, aside from myself and Dru, even knew he was dragonborne; he could have easily been just another one of many different varieties of shifters living on this land. I wondered what the males surrounding him would think if they knew who he really was. Dragons weren’t normally thought of fondly, as legend said they were prone to eating those who irritated them. And considering most dragons had hair-trigger tempers, well, they were irritated often.

  “Bloody hell,” I ground out. Not wanting to appear like an addlepated fool, I tried to pretend that he was nothing to me. That I wasn’t at all curious as to why he’d returned after the disaster of our last meeting, or why my heart couldn’t seem to stop stuttering stupidly in my chest, even though I was still furious with him for his high handedness.

  But despite my very best intentions, my eyes constantly strayed to the strong, dominant male. Gods, he was beautiful. Broad in his chest and arms, tapering into a lean and powerful waist and lower body. With a face that’d seemed stitched together by the gods.

  I dug my nails into the glass throne.

  He stood out like a sore thumb when compared to the peacocking males surrounding him. Wonderland was known to be colorful; males wore face paint just as often as the females did. At times it was even hard to differentiate the males from the females; dressing the part of a dandy was currently all the rage.

  I liked looking at the pretty “doll men,” at times. But when standing beside the rugged handsomeness of a brawny male who did not at all try for beauty, their looks were sorely lackluster by comparison.