The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8: I Was Humiliated Once Too

"He didn’t even try to lie," Princess Agnes whispered, voice shaking. "Didn’t even pretend it wasn’t because of her."

The crystal glass she’d been holding shattered on the floor. The third one today.

Queen Bellatrix looked at the broken glass, then back at Agnes.

"That was Dornish crystal," she said flatly. "She has cost me glassware now too."

She took a sip of her wine. "Of course it was because of her. That girl is the kind men think they are in love with. But they aren’t thinking at all, letting their cock decide."

Agnes’s chin snapped up. "She’s not even beautiful." Her voice cracked. "She’s built like a broomstick someone hung a wig on—" she broke off, breath catching. "He looked at me like I was an afterthought."

"One dragon bowed to a homeless girl," the Queen said coolly. "Even the lizards in this kingdom have a flair for the theatrical. If that isn’t the universe mocking us, I don’t know what is. You were raised for this throne. For him."

Bellatrix looked at her with the expression of a general watching a soldier cry over a paper cut. Pity, wrapped thinly in contempt.

Agnes clenched her jaw. "He didn’t care."

"No. Because men are fools. All of them. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. My king married me out of duty. But his heart—"

Her voice turned brittle.

"His heart belonged to another. A weak, simpering woman who gave him nothing but a dream and a dead legacy."

Agnes made a mental note to never, under any circumstances, ask Bellatrix about Tiberon’s first love. That well had bodies at the bottom.

Bellatrix reached down and cupped Agnes’s chin, forcing the girl’s tear-soaked eyes to meet hers.

"I was humiliated once too. I watched from a throne while my husband ached for a ghost. But I did not cry on a chaise like a broken girl."

What Bellatrix had done instead was far worse, but that story was not for tonight.

Agnes stiffened. "What would you have me do? Smile? Attend the war council while she sits next to him like a crowned goddess? While dragons bow to her?"

She released her and turned away, shoulders squared. "No. I would have you win."

"She’s untrained. Unpolished. Ignorant of court politics. She’s likely illiterate and the type to whore herself to the highest bidder. She will make a fool of herself, just wait."

Agnes nodded eagerly. Bellatrix noticed how quickly Agnes believed whatever made her feel better. Useful, but fragile. A dangerous combination.

Agnes then wiped her nose on her silk sleeve absentmindedly, the material was worth more than most houses.

This is my weapon. Gods help me, Bellatrix thought.

She inhaled, forcing patience into her voice. "Let her shine. Let them all stare. But understand this: I will not let the fate of kingdoms hinge on some glowing orphan slut who couldn’t tell a council decree from a dinner invitation."

She’d curtsy to a butler," Agnes added.

"She’d thank a guard for arresting her," Bellatrix said, throwing her hands in the air, wine splashing from her goblet in the process.

Yes, she was bonding with a girl twenty-five years younger by trashing a third. It wasn’t healthy.

"You, Agnes, are the daughter of legacy. Of command. She will never understand what that means."

Agnes’s breath steadied. Her tears dried.

"So don’t fret, little lioness," Bellatrix said, stepping back into the fire’s reach. "Let fate have its moment. Then we will end it."

She smiled. And it was not a kind smile.

"He will do as I say."

✦✦✦

The door slammed open with no warning. Queen Bellatrix swept in like a thunderstorm, her black silk robes trailing behind her like smoke.

"Good," she said sharply. "You both are here."

King Tiberon barely looked up from the sealed letters on his desk. Dexmon, standing near the hearth with a goblet of untouched wine, tensed visibly.

"I assume this is not a social call," Tiberon said, tone dry.

Bellatrix’s gaze landed on her son. "You cannot end things with the princess. Not like this."

Dexmon set his goblet down with more force than necessary. "Mother—"

"No," she said, cutting him off with a raised hand. "You will listen. You’ve spent one afternoon with that girl. One. And now you are willing to throw away a royal alliance, centuries of political stability, and a woman who was born and trained to rule? Serena is seducing you. Think with your head, not your cock."

"I haven’t even spoken to Serena about any of this," Dexmon said, taken aback by the aggressiveness of her words.

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed. "And yet here we are. The whole court’s whispering. You’ve stopped seeing Agnes, already canceled engagements she was promised. Why do you care for a woman you don’t know?"

Dexmon resisted the urge to point out that the court had been whispering since before Serena arrived, mostly about Agnes’s temper and his mother’s drinking. But self-preservation won.

Bellatrix tilted her head, voice silk over steel. "Don’t answer. I know."

Tiberon raised a brow.

"Serena was not raised for this," Bellatrix continued, pacing now. "She was not trained to lead, or speak to councils, or broker treaties. Agnes was. She’s endured the pageantry, the lessons, the expectations since birth. You know what Serena has endured? Dirt. Chains. Shadows. She doesn’t belong in the light, not where you stand."

Dexmon exhaled slowly through his nose. "You’re not being fair."

"Fair?" Bellatrix hissed. "Don’t be foolish! If she’s caught your eye, make her your mistress. Quiet. Useful. Invisible. She can be tucked away where no one important has to see her."

Aegon: SHIFT.

Dexmon: No.

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