The Dragon King's Hated Bride-Chapter 124: Training partner

>>Aelin

He didn’t look away and neither did I

"Yes," He said calmly, "We were engaged as kids." My heart dropped.

"What?" The words escaped my mouth

"She’s not coming here for me, Aelin," Draegon said quietly. "Even if she once wanted something... the person I am now isn’t the boy she knew. And she’s not the woman I remember."

I think I stopped breathing for a second. The words rang through my head like the echo of a sword striking stone—sharp, loud, and impossible to ignore.

Engaged.

My mouth parted, but no sound came out. I stared at him, waiting—pleading—for some kind of clarification.

Draegon exhaled slowly, as if he’d expected this to hit hard. "It wasn’t serious, Aelin," he said gently. "It was all... children’s play. Nothing binding. Nothing real. The Queen had made the suggestion back then because Vesper and I were good friends."

"But you were engaged," I said, my voice thinner than I wanted it to be.

That word kept repeating in my mind. I hated how bitter it sounded on my tongue.

He looked at me with so much patience it almost made it worse. "Yes," he said again. "But you have to understand—I was very young. Barely understood what the word marriage even meant. I didn’t even know what it meant to fall in love. Vesper was a few years older than me, closer in age to Draken than she is to me."

That part surprised me, though I tried not to let it show.

"Then... why were you two engaged at all?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level, even as the ache in my chest started to grow deeper.

Before Draegon could speak, Drakkar, who had remained silent until now, leaned his arms against the table and answered with a frown.

"Our mother orchestrated it," he said. "She never wanted Draegon to grow strong enough to threaten her hold over the court. Vesper was... fierce. Controlling, even back then. Mother thought if she was bound to Draegon, she’d smother any ambition he might have had. Keep him beneath her heel."

That sent a cold chill down my spine.

"She used your friendships to control you," I whispered.

Draegon gave a small, sad nod. "It was just another piece on her chessboard. She knew Vesper would follow orders if it meant power. And she knew I wouldn’t object—not back then."

I could hear the faint hint of old bitterness in his voice. Not toward Vesper, but toward the games his step mother used to play with their lives.

"As we got older," Draegon continued, "things changed. We grew apart naturally. She joined the Royal Army. And then she met Nilu."

"She married him young," Draken added, crossing his arms. "He was the commander of the Demon Army back then."

"She fell in love with him," Draegon said, more softly now. "She chose him. Not me. And I never once thought about her."

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Somewhere deep down, I knew I had no reason to feel betrayed. I hadn’t even met Draegon back then. And yet...

The thought of another woman once having even a claim on him, however flimsy or political, left a sour taste in my mouth.

Like maybe I’d come too late.

Like maybe I was always destined to feel like the second choice in someone’s story.

He must’ve sensed the storm brewing inside me because his voice grew gentler, more deliberate.

"Aelin, demon engagements don’t mean what they do in human kingdoms," he said, leaning slightly toward me. "In demon cultures, it is something kids do to mimic humans and joke around. Demon engagements are not considered serious at all."

"But still..." I murmured, lowering my eyes to the table. "Your engagement was by the Queen."

"Yes," he said. "It was by the Queen. Not by my choice, so it holds even less meaning."

I looked up at him again, unsure of what I wanted to see in his expression. But what I did see was certainty. Not apology. Not guilt.

Only truth.

My throat tightened.

I hadn’t even realized how tightly I’d been gripping the edge of the table until my fingers started to hurt. Slowly, I released them, drawing in a shaky breath.

"There was nothing between us more than friendship," Draegon said, his voice steady but gentle. "And it will remain like that now too. Vesper is coming here to fight with us. That’s all."

I looked at him, searching for any flicker of doubt or discomfort in his expression. But there was none. Only quiet honesty.

Still, the ache in my chest hadn’t fully left.

I nodded, slowly, and offered a faint smile, trying to shake the cold coil of unease in my gut. "Alright," I said quietly. "I believe you."

And I did. I truly did.

But something... something still pulled at the edge of my thoughts. Like a splinter you couldn’t quite find but could still feel buried under the skin.

"She’s strong," Draken said suddenly, stretching his long arms above his head. "Having her here might be a good thing. We should train with her."

I blinked at him. "Train?"

Drakkar leaned back against the edge of the table and smirked. "Draken’s right. Vesper’s not like most warriors—she’s reckless and explosive, but controlled when she needs to be. Fighting her forces you to think faster. She’d be a solid training partner."

Ariston’s eyes narrowed slightly at that. I noticed the subtle shift in his posture, the way his arms crossed. "You speak highly of her," he said to Drakkar, not bothering to hide his suspicion.

Drakkar gave him an easy shrug, the picture of nonchalance. "What can I say? It was always fun sparring with her. And she doesn’t hold back. She’ll cut you open in a practice round just to teach you a lesson."

Ariston didn’t respond, but I caught the flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

Draegon looked between them and then to me. "It’s not a bad idea," he said thoughtfully. "If she’s willing, training with her could be useful. She’s a fire serpent. A powerful one. She can summon and control flame in ways that... well, might come in handy."

He wasn’t wrong.

Images of the spider-nun flashed in my mind—the way the solderis weapons had failed, the way no one could find her second core, how she moved like a nightmare given flesh. We had barely survived. And I’d nearly lost Draegon.

"We need to get stronger," he added, a hint of iron in his tone. "That battle proved it. Even with everything we had... we weren’t enough."

Draken’s brow furrowed. "She heard about the spider-nun, actually. It’s part of why she’s coming. Said it pissed her off that we couldn’t handle it on our own."

I arched a brow. "She said that?"

He grinned. "Not in those exact words. But close enough."

Draegon chuckled faintly and nodded. "That sounds like her."

"She also wants to help train the soldiers," Draken went on.

"Good," Draegon said, and this time there was something... lighter in his voice. Almost amused. "They’ll hate her, but they’ll learn fast."

The others laughed. Even I managed a smile.

But that strange weight still lingered in my chest,

Everyone slowly filed out of the meeting room—Draken with a lazy stretch, Drakkar giving me a knowing nod, Ariston trailing behind with a distant look in his eyes. I stood near the polished table, thinking about everything they’d said. The gate, the abyss, Vesper.

Draegon lingered, still standing near the window, the sunlight glinting off the edge of his horns. He turned just as the door began to close behind Ariston.

"Aelin," he said, his voice low, almost cautious.

I tilted my head. "Yes?"

He hesitated, then offered me a small smile. "My mother wants to meet you."

I blinked. "Seraphine?" A quiet breath left me, softer than I expected. "She wants to see me?"

He nodded, but didn’t speak right away. There was something unreadable in his expression, something thoughtful—and maybe a little guarded. He opened his mouth again, as if to explain why, but then—

The doors to the chamber burst open.

The sound was like thunder against stone. I startled, instinctively stepping closer to Draegon, my hand twitching He turned too, sharp and alert—but he relaxed the moment he saw her.

A woman. Tall—nearly as tall as Draegon—and with a presence that filled the room before she even spoke. Her long hair was a wild mane of flame-red, tied back in a sweeping braid that whipped as she moved. Her armor, streaked with crimson and obsidian plates, gleamed like it had seen more war than peace.

Her smile was haughty and too wide, like she’d just walked into a tavern after conquering a kingdom.

"There you are," she announced like she owned the palace, her voice husky and bold, laced with fire. "Took me long enough to find you."

Without hesitation—without asking, without ceremony—she strode across the chamber and threw her arms around Draegon.

I froze.

She embraced him like they’d never spent a day apart

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