The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 47: The Book

Chapter 47: The Book

>>Aelin

I sat on the edge of the bed, the old book resting heavily on my lap, I had my back to Draegon as I stared at it.

Considering one final time if I should show it to him or not

I could feel his gaze on me and I also knew hiding this won’t take me anywhere. I ran my fingers over the cover while Draegon stood by the window, his arms crossed as he watched me, his curiosity barely masked by the stiff line of his jaw.

Finally I got up as I opened the book and walked over to him, I held it out to him. "Here," I said. "You should see it for yourself."

He approached slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took the book, and started flipping through the pages. His brow furrowed as he scanned them.

He then paused and looked at me, "You got your magic from this?" He asked and I nodded. I had told him that my powers suddenly awakened because of a book I opened. He kept his eyes on me, looking at me funny, "There’s nothing in this book," he said flatly, holding it up as if I’d just handed him a prank.

I rolled my eyes. "Look at the cover," I said, reaching out and snatching it back from him. "You’re missing the point." I closed it with a decisive thud and held it up, showing him the cosmic design.

Draegon’s eyes widened, and his expression shifted from skepticism to recognition. "Oh," he murmured, the tension in his body easing. He took a step closer, staring at it as though it were a long-lost artifact.

"You know it?" I asked, surprised by his reaction.

He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving the book. "I’ve seen this before. I tried to read it once, years ago." He hesitated, "But... there was nothing written in it. Just empty pages." He glanced at me again, "Just like now."

I stared at him, confused. "Wait, what? Nothing happened when you opened it?"

He shook his head, his expression serious. "Nothing. It’s just... a blank book. At least, it was for me." He stared at me, "You can read this?"

I nodded, "Yes, I can," I frowned, my thoughts racing as I looked down in confusion. "But that doesn’t make sense. I thought—" I stopped myself, biting my lip. The words caught in my throat. I’d believed that this book had chosen me, that it was the source of my powers. But if Draegon, of all people, had once tried to read it and nothing happened...

"You thought what?" He asked

I raised my head and looked up at him, "That I got these weird yet holy powers from this book."

There was a small pause where he glanced at the book, then back at me, "It’s not possible," he said, his voice firm. "Many people have tried to read this book, but nothing like what happened to you has ever happened before."

I hugged the book to my chest, my grip tightening. "Then why me?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached out and gently took the book from my hands, his fingers brushing against mine, subtly making me flinch. He turned it over slowly, his expression thoughtful.

"There’s one thing my real mother told me about this book," he said quietly. "She called it the Book of Truth."

"Book of Truth?" I repeated. It was a strange name to give to a book.

He nodded, still staring at the cover. "She kept it very safe. Everyone made fun of her for it, though. They said it was useless. Just an empty book taking up space. But she wouldn’t let anyone throw it away." There was a pause, "I never knew why though..."

There was a tightness in his voice now, a shadow of something I couldn’t quite place.

"And because of her," he continued, "they subtly mocked me too. Whispered about how I was the son of a madwoman clinging to a worthless relic." His lips curled into a bitter smile. "Of course, as a prince, I took care of them."

I blinked, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. "You mean...?"

His smile turned sharper, his eyes glinting. "Let’s just say they learned not to speak ill of me or my mother again."

Woah...

I couldn’t help but feel a pang of admiration. Draegon, despite being the son of a concubine, had always seemed to stand his ground. He carried himself with a strength that I envied, a confidence that seemed unshakable. I thought of my own family, how they had degraded me, broken me down until I felt like nothing. He must have had the support of his family, someone who believed in him, someone who built him up instead of tearing him down and so he could take action for himself.

Unlike me who was hated by her own family despite being the child of the Queen, he was admired even though he was from a concubine.

He handed the book back to me, "This book," he said, his voice quieter now, "can’t be read by just anyone." He continued, "My mother said that there are people who can read it though. And It’s known to grant a secret wish."

"A secret wish?" I repeated, leaning forward slightly. The words sounded almost too fantastical to believe. "What sort of wish?"

"As per her words. Usually, it’s the deepest desire of the person at the moment when they open the book," he explained, his tone serious. "That’s what my mother told me. But..." He hesitated, his gaze meeting mine. "It’s not like anyone got to test it out."

!!!

My eyes went slightly wide

I ran my fingers over the cover of the book as Draegon’s words echoed in my mind.

A secret wish.

The deepest desire of the person at that moment.

I hadn’t thought about it in days, not since everything happened. But as I stood there, clutching the book, the memory of that night came rushing back.

I had opened it, desperate and broken. And I’d wished...

I’d wished to meet her.

My daughter.

The pain welled up in my chest, sharp and unforgiving, but I forced it down, swallowing hard as I pressed the book tighter against me. It wasn’t something I could tell him, not now. Maybe not ever.

He didn’t care about the child we lost

"Did you wish for something? When you opened it?" He asked and I shook my head at him

"It was nothing important." I replied

"Nothing important?" he asked, "Meaning there was something?"

"..." I didn’t answer him

"... I see," He took the hint and didn’t pursue it any further. "This power of yours," he spoke, "it’s... It’s effective. More effective than anything I’ve ever used against the monsters of the Abyss."

I raised my head and looked at him, "How so?"

"The magic you used on me to escape Ruoxy’s hold is one example, and the other one is how you destroyed that bat monster in the dungeon too."

!!

"Ah," I recalled it. Right, I did kill it... Somehow, "I’m not sure how that happened though."

I frowned, unsure how to feel about that. The idea that my magic, something that felt so foreign and overwhelming, could be tied to the very creatures that had brought so much destruction—it sent a shiver down my spine.

"We’ll have to figure it out," Draegon continued. "You said you’ve been reading the book,"

"Yes," I gave him a nod, "Though there are many words I don’t understand and had to look through the dictionary to make sense of it."

"I see... It is an old book. So much of the language must be in old scriptures. I’ll help you out with that."

Oh!

I nodded at him, still feeling the odd pain in my chest. Things are suddenly so different, it’s hard to wrap my head around it.

Draegon leaned forward slightly, his purple eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me straightened up. "When you used your power on me, did you notice anything odd?"

I tilted my head, confused by the question. "Odd?" I echoed. "Not really. Why?"

His gaze flickered to my forehead, and I watched as he hesitated for a moment before slowly raising his hand.

!?

His fingers moved closer until the tip of one brushed against the skin of my forehead, featherlight, almost hesitant.

"Nothing here either?" he asked softly, his voice low.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden gesture. "No," I said, shaking my head slightly, suddenly unsure where to look. "Why? What are you talking about?" Weirdly enough, his gentle touch felt tingly.

Draegon pulled his hand back as he studied me with a strange expression. "I noticed something there when you used your power on me in the forest."

"What?" I asked, leaning closer.

He hesitated again, his brows knitting together in thought. "A symbol," he finally said. "Of a sun. It had zig-zag styled rays."

!!!

I stared at him, completely baffled. "What?" The information was jaw dropping

"It doesn’t show now," he said, gesturing vaguely toward my forehead again. "But when you used your magic... it glowed."

I felt my heart skip a beat at his words, my mind racing to process what he was saying. "Even in the dungeon?" I asked quickly, needing to know if this wasn’t just some strange fluke.

He nodded slowly. "Yes. It was faint but definitely there."

I reached up to touch my forehead, half-expecting to feel something beneath my fingers, but there was nothing. Just my own skin, smooth and unremarkable. "I didn’t feel anything," I murmured, more to myself than to him.

The symbol of the sun??!

On my forehead!?!?

I shook my head as my eyes went wide.

"Are you okay?" He noticed that something was off, "It’s like the color drained from your body."

I kept shaking my head, "No..." I stepped back, and almost stumbled when he grabbed my arms, keeping me in place.

"What’s wrong?"

My gaze went to him, my fingers brushing against my forehead, "A glowing symbol of the sun was the trademark of the Solwyn tribe." I felt my skin stand up, "It’s impossible for me to have it."

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