Scales of Lies:The rise of the dragon queen

The scent of blood lingered in the air as Ixora’s loud scream echoed through the labour room. Outside the chamber were her husband and family, pacing up and down for the arrival of the baby.

Princess Ixora, the daughter of the most sacred high-tier elder, her father is one of the rulers in the Quins while her mother is a royal concubine who was once cherished by her father before she died and her stepmother took her place.

She was arranged to marry Draven, her husband, two years ago during the dragon clan matchmaking festival, and her family with her husband are eager to have a baby.

Inside the chamber, the air was mixed with the bitter smell of burning incense and melted dragon crystals. Cries filled the ground as it were from Ixora’s eyes.

She raised her body again as the midwife told her, and pushed with her whole strength in her. As her back hit the soft bed, the cry of the baby filled the room. The midwife cut the cord joining the mother and her child and raised the child up.

“It’s a boy, your highness.” She shouted with joy. The sound was what Draven heard. He didn’t even wait before vanishing and appearing in the room. He rushed to the baby boy, and Ixora smiled.

Faintly, she thought: she will not be called a barren or a basket filled with rotten fruit. But her smile vanished when she saw mixed scales forming from her child’s body.

When Draven saw it, he dropped the baby boy in anger, but the midwife was fast to catch the child before he hit the ground.

“No… No, my ba…by.” Ixora muttered in shock. She tried to sit up, but she couldn’t. Her body was still sore.

She looked up to Draven’s eyes and saw his eyes changing. Immediately, a faint glow filled the room, and one by one, they started vanishing from the labour room. Within seconds, they all found themselves in the throne hall. And one by one again, elders started filling up the hall, but the king was not on the throne.

Murmur started pouring in from the mouths of the elders as they took in the sight before them, until the throne hall felt more like a tomb than a palace.

Ixora knelt on the cold marble floor, and her wrists were chained behind her back with Spirit-Sealing Shackles, forcing every ounce of dragon power inside her body into silence.

She couldn’t even lift her head, not because of the pain, but because of what lay before her.

Her tiny little baby on the floor, with his silver-and-black scales stained with the crimson blood of his birth.

His little body hadn’t even grown wings. His bright golden eyes searched for his mother’s face and tears filled Ixora’s eyes.

“In front of the sacred throne and with the name of the supreme dragon lord, bless what I am about to do.” Draven chanted and brought out his sword and slashed the baby on the ground in two. The tiny head rolled away from the body.

“N…ooooooo, my…baby.” Ixora screamed, forcing herself up to reach her baby as his blood splashed and hit her face. Her tears stopped falling. She looked up to Draven, bloodshot eyes. Her veins popped out on every visible patch of skin. She looked like a zombie at this point.

Her labor blood kept rolling out from her in between, but she didn’t care. She was staring hard at Draven. Pain this deep no longer produced tears. It hollowed a person from the inside.

Standing over the lifeless baby was Prince Draven.

The future Dragon King.

The strongest Purple Dragon of his generation. His white ceremonial robes were untouched by blood. Only the sword in his hand carried evidence of what he had done. "You deceived the Dragon Clan."

Ixora lifted her head fully so that their eyes met. "He... He was our child..."

"Our child?" Draven laughed hysterically. "A royal Purple Dragon can never produce a Mixed-Scale hatchling."

His gaze turned toward the tiny body. "That creature is living proof that you betrayed me."

Ixora stared at him in disbelief. "No..."

"I never betrayed you. You were the one chosen by the Dragon King. You were the one who marked me, my only mate." Her tiny voice cracked. "How could I betray you?"

Draven’s expression never changed. He kept staring intensely. "The bloodline never lies."

Before Ixora could crawl toward her child, the king entered the hall with a lady.

Everyone in the hall bowed their heads respectfully. “Long live Your majesty.”

When he reached and sat on the throne, the lady stood beside the throne, and everyone raised their heads.

Annya.

Ixora’s stepsister, the daughter the Dragon King never acknowledged. A Green Dragon, low-ranking, smiling, always smiling.

Especially now.

"Oh, Sister." Her voice dripped with false sympathy as she walked to Ixora. "Perhaps it's time everyone learned the truth."

She walked toward Ixora slowly, then reached down. Her fingers touched Ixora’s cheek.

"You've been wearing this disguise for far too long."

Before anyone could react, she splashed a basin of shimmering silver liquid across Ixora’s face.

The enchanted paint began melting instantly.

White scales… slowly disappeared.

As dark silver scales spread across Ixora’s skin instead.

Gasps echoed through the throne hall.

"No..."

"Impossible..."

"The White Dragon Princess..."

"She's a Mixed-Scale Dragon..."

The whispers became louder, with different facial expressions: some watched her disgustingly and other laughed at her mockingly.

Ixora froze on her knee. That was her greatest secret… that no one knew except her dead mother.

The Dragon King rose from his throne, his face filled with fury. "You filthy disgrace, you dared to stain the royal bloodline."

Ixora crawled forward despite the pain she was feeling from the chains. "Father."

"Do not call me that!" His roar shook the palace walls as everyone closed their ears.

"I should have killed you the day you were born."

Silence.

Those words pierced deeper than any blade. Ixora looked at him confused and broken. "You... knew?" She asked her father.

His eyes narrowed, and he looked back at his daughter. "I knew from the beginning."

Every noble in the throne room stared in horror.Others with satisfaction.

"You were never worthy of the White Dragon title. I merely tolerated your existence because your blood still had some value."

Ixora’s heart shattered. Everything had been a lie. Her title, family, marriage and her life.

Annya stepped beside Draven, slipping her arm through his as though it belonged there."I warned everyone," she sighed dramatically. "But nobody believed me."

She leaned closer to Draven. "You deserve someone worthy of you."

Draven didn’t move away. He simply watched Ixora with cold, emotionless eyes.

The Dragon King raised his hand. "Guards, take her to the Spirit Hall. Begin the Spirit Extraction."

The hall fell silent. Every dragon knew that punishment. No dragon survived it with their sanity intact.

Ixora laughed, brokenly. The sound frightened even the guards.

She looked at the tiny body of her child one last time. "I'm sorry..." Her whisper barely reached the lifeless baby.

"I couldn't protect you." She reached for him, and the chains tightened when the guards reached her.

The guards dragged her across the marble floor, her blood making a straight-line pattern. She didn’t resist. She had nothing left to fight for.

Nothing...

Except hatred. As the palace doors closed behind her, Ixora made a silent vow.

If there was another life…, if fate eve

r showed her mercy… She would burn this kingdom to the ground.

And every person who had watched her child die...Would kneel before her.