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His Unwanted Queen Is A Secret Genius

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 892    |    Released on: Today at 23:16

a Vanc

ed down on the landing platfo

vanished from my shoulders. Here, in the independent city-state of mages and scholars, the air

, stopping before a four-story limestone

iary. The exterior appeared modest, but the interior had been retrofitted with reinforced

ard on the heavy iron

washed over me. I stood in the center of the main workshop floor, surro

e where I had to bow my head, but a sanc

sat down at the primary communication console. My f

routed all private royalty streams from Aether Forge-the secret military engineering firm I had co-founded-into a decentralize

rald, I exhaled slowly. Not a single coppe

ilver-framed dragon-cryst

years, it had chimed at designated hours: seven in the morning for Elara's breakfast, two

weet, round face flashed through my mind, followed immediately by her di

ped my chest, ti

oken hostage to her father's court. To be the mothe

placed the steel tip over the tablet's core resonance

olden glow sputtered and died, t

red fragments into

t the rear of the shop, entering a twenty-four-digit numeric seque

schematic plates, and the heavy brass casin

t could amplify or neutralize dragonfire across entire battlefronts. It was

he outer door br

blade into my sleeve before walking to t

wearing a green linen apron, accompanied by an eight-year-o

Chloe. Two years ago, when her shop had suffered a dangerous alchemical fire, I had se

, lowering my gua

a warm smile. "Mistress Vance! It really is you! I saw the towe

r's skirts, holding up the basket. "Good aftern

s I took the basket. The rich, comforting scent of fresh-baked

dam Elara asked kindly. "The street has be

remarkably solid and right on my

ny fresh balm or dried herbs for your fluxes, y

and leaned against it. I broke off a war

e refinement. Yet as it warmed my chest, I realized it tasted fa

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His Unwanted Queen Is A Secret Genius
His Unwanted Queen Is A Secret Genius
“I am the Dragonless Queen, married to the Dragon King for five years, trying to warm his icy heart. But on my twenty-fifth birthday, he canceled our private dinner to spend it with my half-sister, Lyra. Through the cracked door, I watched him smile at Lyra with a warmth he never gave me, praising her sacred dragonfire. "Auntie Lyra is amazing!" my four-year-old daughter squealed. "Mom never knows how to make these!" My husband didn't even look up when I finally entered, coldly telling me not to make an issue out of a quiet family evening. Looking at the three of them framed by the hearth-the formidable king, the holy maiden of flame, and the adoring royal daughter-they formed a picture of unassailable perfection. I was just a cold-blooded intruder in my own home, a decorative fixture tolerated only for political peace. Five years of silent endurance evaporated into a freezing void. Why did I bury my true self, believing devotion could fill the empty spaces? Why did I let them treat me like a shameful defect? I didn't scream or cry. I calmly drafted a formal Declaration of Severance, left it on his desk, and walked out of the palace forever. My husband assumed I was just throwing a domestic tantrum and would come crawling back once my coin ran out. He had no idea that his useless, Dragonless wife was actually the shadowy founder of Aether Forge-the premier military syndicate his entire empire desperately relied on to survive. Keep your throne, Kaelen. I am taking back my life.”