Rejected By My Alpha, Claimed By The Dragon Commander

Chapter 12: Heads Of The Table

“Hi, Queen Anna,” the younger woman stepped around the King’s mother with a smile. “It is so nice to meet you.” She bowed a little.

I noticed that she had an accent. Which meant that she hadn’t been speaking English for long. She was probably raised on a silver spoon in Vaelryth her entire life. But at least she’s not as rude as the raisin.

“I’m Meelan,” she said.

“Milan,” I asked, with a smile of my own. “As in old Paris?”

The old raisin rolled her eyes. “No, no, dear. As in M E E L A N. Meelan.” She stretched out the double E as if I was stupid.

I wanted to smack her. But that would’ve probably earned me more than just a week of being unable to sit down.

“Oh, I see,” I whispered, trying to keep the bitterness out of my tone. I was way too young to be dealing with snaky mothers in law.

“Where is Draconian?” Meelan asked, looking at Mira.

“The King stepped out for a while, Lady Meelan.” Mira dropped her head.

Draconian? That was his name? And why was she calling him by his first name? They must have been close.

I didn’t linger on the thought as Mira led us to the dining hall.

The table was already prepared. Maid Belle was standing beside the table with another maid whose name I hadn’t learned yet, ready to serve the royal family. This would be my first dinner in the palace of my kidnappers, and it was going to be with a mother in law who couldn’t stand me when she hadn’t known me for even an hour.

Hooray, lucky me.

“Your Majesties,” Belle whispered as she and the other maid bowed.

“Hi, Belle, Adelaide,” Meelan muttered, still wearing that infectious smile. “I trust you have both been well?”

Moon Goddess. I bet she was even nice to the furniture.

“Yes, Lady Meelan.” Adelaide smiled and turned to me. “My Queen, welcome to the palace. And congratulations on your nuptials.”

Well, honey, it would’ve been nice if I actually exchanged nuptials. But I was sold, and then hunted like a rabbit in the woods.

“Thank you,” I whispered just as Mira pulled out a chair for me.

“Oh yes, Anna,” the King’s mother sat at the other end of the table.

I had a feeling she did it just because she could. Not that she really wanted to sit there. She was too arrogant and annoyed by my presence to sit at the side of the table while I sat at the head. So she took the chair that I assumed was for the King.

“Queen Mother,” Mira started, clearing her throat. “I believe the King will be coming to dinner.”

“I did not ask you,” the Queen Mother snapped.

Mira immediately lowered her head. “My apologies, Queen Mother.”

“You are the Queen’s lady in waiting, aren't you?” the old bag asked.

The more she spoke, the less I liked her. She was really starting to get on my last nerve. And after everything I went through the past couple of days, I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to keep my cool.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Mira took a step back behind me.

“Then remember your place. You are here to serve the Queen, not insert yourself into royal matters,” the Queen Mother snarled.

My jaw tightened. I really didn’t have the strength to deal with this. I ass hurt so bad just by sitting there, and I couldn’t say less for my hands and feet.

Before I could say anything, Meelan touched her arm. “Aunt Hilda, she was only trying to be helpful.”

“She should learn that the help does not speak unless spoken to,” Aunt Hilda snapped again.

Meelan's smile disappeared for a second before she looked at Mira. “I apologize, Mira. My aunt can be very particular about these things.”

More like your aunt was a b***h.

“There's no need to apologize, Lady Meelan,” Mira said behind me.

“Of course there is.” Meelan smiled again.

I hated that smile since the first moment I saw it. It reminded me a lot of Aria and how fake she’d been for the past two years. It looked calculated and too perfect for my liking. She was probably one of those people who smiled a lot in public and plotted worse in private.

She was not for me.

The sound of footsteps approaching broke into my thoughts. I turned my gaze toward the door to see the King and Puncho entering.

King Draconian. The name suited him. It made him sound as big and aggressive as he was.

He looked good in a dark brown suit, with a white shirt underneath. He didn’t have on a tie. His black shoes were clean and shiny, like he never set a foot out of the palace, or as though he walked around with a cloth, wiping the dust off after every step.

His eyes met mine for a second before going to his mother. “Queen Mother.”

The raisin smiled for the first time. “Draconian.”

She was practically beaming.

If someone told Draconian just what a b***h she was being a second ago, I bet he’d call them a liar and have them beheaded. Or whooped.

My cheeks burned at the thought, and my ass remembered the pain all too well. I was still feeling the consequences hours later.

Aunt Hilda moved to get up but Draconian shook his head and rounded the table. I thought he was going to seat close to her, but he walked farther and pulled out the chair closer to me, on the left before Puncho could even get to it. He sat down and looked at me.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

I blinked, thinking what in the actual hell.