The Mad Queen

Chapter One: New Version!

Hello! I've finished chapter one of my new version, and I thought I'd share it all with you and see what you think! Starting the book is the hardest, so it took me a little bit of time to figure it out. But now that I've begun, I should be able to get into a good rhythm for continuing! So, here is a small preview of the rewrite! I hope you enjoy, and remember to follow my socials, because I may give you a few more snippets in the future!

P.S, this is still a draft, so the chapter isn't going to be perfect. All feedback is welcome! There will also be little chapter openers like in this version, but I'll write them later.

Chapter One

Illyana stood atop the grand marble stairs and gazed down at all the lords and ladies as they danced. She hated them so much that it made heat rush through her body. Her hands clenched into tight fists as they hung by the sides of the ornate ruby gown her father ordered her to wear. Yet alongside that burning hatred was another, even worse emotion. Jealousy. As she stared at their carefree smiles and the way they laughed and danced as though that night wasn't to celebrate the beginning of a brutal and cruel end to her and her sisters' lives, she wished with every fibre of her being that she could be one of them.

"Please welcome to the hall, Princess Illyana Dulavelle. The first-born princess of King Matthais Dulavelle."

Illyana shot a harsh glare at the announcer. He didn't look at her, and his face held a neutral expression.

"And Yazmine Dulavelle!" she wanted to shout at him. But her mother's duty was done. She gave the crown its heirs. Though, being that all her surviving children were girls, some would say she failed in her duties. Not that it mattered now. Yazmine Dulavelle was dead. And, as she was born Dulavelle, not her father, who married into the family and ruled, it meant no more chances for a royal son. Her mother no longer mattered. Her name didn't need repeating, and the people didn't need reminding that their king was not of the bloodline.

Illyana forced on a well-practised smile and walked down the stairs to the waiting crowd. The music rang around the hall, quieter than it was before, but still a pleasant background noise to keep from uncomfortable silence. The guests bowed and curtseyed as she walked, but she quickly forgot about them as her eyes fell on the one person not partaking in the respectful gesture.

Her chest tightened with fear. Kirostoff Drake smiled. To anyone who didn't know the man, the gesture would be charming. In fact, some of the women, those who weren't court regulars aware of the rumours, giggled, hiding their coy smiles behind their gloved hands. That arrogant, cruel glint in his hazel eyes made all the hairs on the back of Illyana's neck stand on end.

"Princess," Kirstoff said and held out his white-gloved hand. Illyana took in a small, sharp breath to try and calm herself as she took it. He met her eyes and lifted her hand to his lips before placing a soft kiss on her skin. Illyana's smile twitched.

"Lord Drake," Illyana said softly. "Welcome."

She couldn't force any more words out. Kristoff's smile grew wider as he lowered their hands but didn't let go. His grip grew tighter. Illyana stiffened as he squeezed in a way that made her knuckles shift uncomfortably. At the same time, his eyes raked over her body, briefly stopping at her breasts, which were pushed up by the tight corset. Illyana tried not to shudder. His eyes met hers once more, and the glint in them told her that he was well aware of the discomfort he was inflicting on her, and he was enjoying it.

"Are you not glad I came?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Of course," Illyana replied. "There wouldn't be a party without you."