The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 94: Mother-In-Law

Chapter 94: Mother-In-Law

>>Aelin

It wasn’t until I closed the book and stared into the quiet hum of the dark room that I remembered something.

Draegon’s mother.

She was no longer locked away in that cursed tower. After all these years, she was finally free.

And I—her daughter-in-law, however newly crowned—hadn’t gone to see her.

The realization struck me with a soft pang of guilt, blooming deep in my chest. How many days and nights had I seen that tower? Of the woman who’d been imprisoned long before I ever arrived in this realm, her name never spoken. The tower treated like it had been abandoned.

She was out.

I stood quickly, pushing the heavy blanket from my lap. The chill of the obsidian floor bit into my bare feet as I crossed the room and opened the door.

The halls were mostly empty now, the echoes of the coronation swept away with the last fading notes of music and the flickering torches lining the arches. I moved quietly, unnoticed. I didn’t want anyone asking questions I couldn’t answer.

My feet knew where to go.

The abandoned wing.

The one I knew too well.

The same place I had been held in for two years, tucked away in crumbling halls and silence—out of sight, out of power, out of breath.

Draegon had moved her. Quietly. Secretly.

He hadn’t said much—just that she was inside the palace now, in the old wing, watched over by handpicked servants no one else knew existed. He had wanted her return to be quiet.

When I asked him, "Why? Why not bring her straight to the main palace."

"She needs time," he’d told me. "To regain her health. When she’s ready... I’ll introduce you." Although he told me he’d introduce me, I couldn’t wait anymore.

My steps slowed as I entered that wing. The air here was stale, unmoving. Dust hung in the light like ancient ghosts. The walls seemed to breathe with the memories I’d left behind—panic, fury,

....

I looked around

And the cold ache of solitude.

Slowly but surely, I reached the room where I used to stay and I froze.

The door was slightly ajar.

The same room. The same walls. But it was no longer mine.

Inside, the faint sound of humming reached my ears. And I knew she was behind these walls.

It had been lingering at the back of my mind for days now—gnawing gently at the edges of every quiet moment. The thought of her.

Draegon’s mother.

My... mother-in-law.

The woman I had never met. Never seen. I hope Draegon won’t get mad. But then again he didn’t stop me from coming here.

I pushed the door open slowly.

The door creaked as I did so

I had prepared myself for shadows, for the cold and dust I’d known too well in this wing—but not for this. Not for her.

She sat near the old hearth, framed by velvet drapes that looked as if they hadn’t been touched in decades. A woven blanket pooled around her thin frame, as if she’d been swallowed by it. Her posture was upright, but fragile—like a statue made of smoke.

And her face—

I gulped

Her face was pale and drawn, every cheekbone sharp beneath skin that looked too thin to hold anything. She looked like she might disappear entirely if the wind picked up.

But it was her eyes that made me freeze.

A piercing shade of purple. The same shade as Draegon’s.

Except gentler. Warmer.

Three women surrounded her, sheep demons with downcast eyes and gentle movements. One of them was combing her hair with a wooden brush. Another knelt by her feet, holding a tray with a chipped teapot. The third stood quietly when I entered the room, watching me with guarded curiosity.

But that lasted only a second before they resumed their work as usual while the purple-eyed woman stared at me.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t question who I was.

Instead, she smiled. Softly. So softly it almost broke me.

"My son’s wife," she said, her voice like a breeze through silk. Delicate. Musical. Somehow human, and yet not quite.

!?!?

I couldn’t move. I was surprised she guessed it in one go. But then again. I was the only human female here in the kingdom. But it wasn’t that what made me feel this fizzy emotion inside of me. It was how she said it.

Like she was happy that I was Draegon’s wife.

There was something in that smile... something I couldn’t name. An ache, maybe. A knowing. Something ancient and kind.

"You’ve come," she whispered, lifting one trembling hand toward me. "Come closer, sweet one. Let me see you."

My throat tightened. I hadn’t heard a voice like that in years. Not since...

Not since my own mother.

Not since kindness had been a regular guest in my life.

I stepped forward before I even realized I had. My knees felt weak, my chest too full. There was an odd heaviness in me—as if I were walking underwater, as if something old and unspoken had stirred the moment I entered the room.

I knelt before her. The servant had finished cleaning the place and all of them moved away as I got to her.

She reached out and brushed my hair away from my cheek with fingers like feathers.

"You are lovely," she murmured. "And strong. I can see it. He chose well."

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I could speak.

There was something about her... something otherworldly. She didn’t feel like the demons I’d met.

She felt like something far older. Something I couldn’t quite place a finger at.

"My name is Aelin," I said finally, my voice rough with emotion.

She smiled again. "And I am Seraphine."

She took my hand gently and held it between both of hers, like it was something precious.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For staying beside him."

Tears welled up before I could stop them. Not because of the words—but because of how she said them. Because she meant them.

"I-" I didn’t know what to tell her. Draegon and I hadn’t really been together for long and for more part, we had spent it apart.

But she didn’t know that and I decided I should keep it to myself.

I didn’t let the tears fall even though I was feeling overwhelmed.

So instead, I offered a soft laugh, even though my throat still ached. "You know... with that name and the way you look, I almost mistook you for a human."

Seraphine didn’t flinch. She didn’t chuckle or take offense.

She just smiled. A slow, knowing smile that made my skin prickle, as though she’d been waiting for me to see it.

And then I did and I felt my skin stand up as goosebumps took over my entire body

My mouth hung slightly open before I managed to speak again.

That face. Those hands. The softness in her voice. The gentleness, the restraint, the subtle sadness.

I whispered, "You’re human?"

Her smile didn’t fade. "Half."

Half.

One word—yet it struck through me like lightning.

The pieces fell too easily into place. Her isolation. The way Draegon said the former queen never let anyone near her. The tower. The secrecy. Even now, how she was hidden away in a wing no one used, tended to by only three quiet sheep demons.

If she’d been a demon—just a demon—she might’ve been sent to the abandoned wing, yes. That would have been punishment enough. But a half-human?

She would have been seen as something far worse.

An abomination.

My stomach twisted.

How many years had she spent in silence, behind locked doors, in that suffocating tower? Not just forgotten—but hidden. Shamed. Deemed unworthy to stand beside a king. To raise her own son. To be seen.

All because she held human blood in her.

Because she was only half demon

Suddenly, I couldn’t bear the thought of her sitting here alone for even a moment longer.

And before I could stop myself, an image flashed across my mind—clear and bright and so unbearably painful:

Asha.

I imagined her small, curious eyes. Her tiny hands. Her soft giggles and fiery tantrums. The daughter who had never been born.

And I imagined her here. Crawling into Seraphine’s lap. Tugging on the ends of her sleeve. Laughing at her stories. Pressing her tiny hand into Seraphine’s palm and finding comfort there.

The demons would whisper how Asha would have been an abomination. Like Alishay said as well. They all said no one would want to look at a half breed.

But

If Asha had had no one else in this world—not even me—she would have had her.

My pupils shook as I stared at Seraphine.

She would have had someone of her kind. Someone who understood. Someone who had lived through it and survived.

Her grandmother.

Her grandmother, who would have loved her in all the ways I never got the chance to.

The pain bloomed sharp and sudden behind my ribs. I had never let myself think that far. Not like this. Not about what Asha had lost by never existing.

But now, meeting Seraphine... it hit me with brutal clarity.

She had missed this. They had missed each other.

And it felt like the world had stolen something holy from me all over again.