Page 9 of Dragon King’s Duty Bride

What kind of woman married her dead sister’s husband and expected anything else?

Guilt twisted in her chest as familiar as breath. She had told herself a thousand times that this marriage wasn’t betrayal. That it was practical, even necessary. That Dian would have wanted Lucas taken care of, the town protected, and things put back into order. If it hadn’t been Sia, it could have been someone who wouldn’t love the girls the same way Dian had.

But lying here, untouched and awake, Sia wondered if her sister was watching and judging.

She imagined Dian’s voice, gentle but unrelenting. You don’t belong here.

A small, traitorous part of her almost wished Lucas would cross the distance, if only to prove that she was still visible and still a woman. Even anger would have been better than this careful absence.

Instead, there was only restraint.

She shifted slightly, but the movement was loud in the quiet room. Lucas stiffened, just barely, as if he braced himself for unwanted contact. The reaction stung more than she expected. He didn’t turn toward her nor did he speak.

I won’t touch you, his silence seemed to say. Not like this. Not ever.

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Crying would make this real in a way she wasn’t ready to face. Crying would mean admitting that she had hoped for warmth and closeness, for some sign that this marriage wasn’t a mistake wrapped in white silk.

The bed remained wide and empty between them.

Eventually, exhaustion dulled the sharpest edges of her thoughts. The ceiling blurred. Lucas’s presence stayed carefully contained on his side of the mattress, a promise he wouldn’t break and a wall she didn’t know how to climb.

As sleep finally pulled her under, one last thought clung to her like a hand on her ankle:

If this was Dian haunting her, she was doing it perfectly by leaving Sia alone in a marriage that already felt like a ghost.

Chapter 5

Lucas

Lucas rose early and escaped his… their… chambers before Sia woke. He stood at the tall window in the dining room that overlooked the gardens with his hands clasped behind his back and his back stiff from a restless, sleepless night. Dawn had barely broken and the faint light spilled across the hedges and sparkled on the dew and mist from the fountains.

He had not touched his wife. Not last night. Not this morning. Not even by accident.

Thoughts continued to run through his head. Had he made a mistake marrying his once sister-in-law? What if the Trust Council had gotten it wrong and things just spiraled out of control?

He let out a deep sigh. He could ask himself a million questions, but he already knew the answer. He had done the right thing, the only thing that he could to save the kingdom and his girls. Had it not been Sia, it would have been some random woman thought worthy of bearing him a child.

At least with Sia, he had time to grow into the idea. He knew she was as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. He also knew that she would respect her sister’s memory as much as he respected his late wife’s and his girls, their mother.

As the staff began to move around the castle, Lucas quickly learned that they had been more than prepared to have their queen. There was an air of excitement and expectation that even he could sense.

When he heard the sound of Sia’s footsteps, guilt plunged him deep in the heart. They were soft, careful steps, like she moved as if she were afraid of being heard. He didn’t turn to greet her as he should have. He simply did not know what to say.

Behind him, Sia crossed the room to the seat the servants had set up for her. Already, the palace was making room for her in ways he hadn’t. Ways that he couldn’t. He wondered if it was for their queen or for what she represented to them. No throne meant no employment.

He peeked over his shoulder, but her back was to him. She wore a pale blue blouse now with pressed slacks, both modest and formal, with her dark hair pinned up the way past queens had done. Just like Dian. She looked every bit the role of a queen, both composed and serene

But she was also distant. And unlike his late wife, Sia looked very much alone. The weight of it pressed against his heart. He had known this would be cruel, just like he had told himself cruelty was unavoidable.

Still, watching it play out in front of him was torture. She passed by with no greetings, and the silence stretched between them.

A servant cleared his throat near the doorway. “Your Majesties, breakfast is served.”

Lucas nodded. “Thank you.”

Silver clinked softly against porcelain as dishes were set down. There was fresh bread still steaming, sliced fruit arranged in perfect symmetry, and a pot of tea placed in the middle of the table. The staff retreated with small bows, though not before more than one curious glance flickered toward Sia.

She folded her hands in her lap as Lucas finally turned.