Forbidden Queen: A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 1)

by R. J. Vickers

  “Best of luck, Your Majesty,” my lady-in-waiting mumbled without meeting my eyes.

  * * *

  My extended family was waiting in the sitting room downstairs, and they drew back respectfully—or perhaps fearfully—as I emerged. Leoth stood and held out his arm to me, and we led the way down the stairs to the historic wing, flanked by more guards than I had ever seen in the Cheltish wing before. Leoth wore our family colors as well, so we looked for all the world like a couple, though I did not meet his eyes, and he held his elbow out from his side as if to maintain as much distance between us as possible.

  I tried to decipher from his expression whether he knew what Olleack had threatened, but his face was closed, unreadable.

  When we reached the great hall, we were greeted with a resounding cheer that rattled my nerves. The rest of the palace had already assembled, leaving the front rows of benches free for the Reycoran family. The king and queen sat on thrones on either side of the dais, leaving the two taller thrones free for me and Leoth.

  As soon as we took our seats, still not looking at one another, a hush fell over the crowd. It was as though the whole palace held its breath. I sought out Saniya in the crowd—she was sitting beside Carrick—but she was looking at her clasped hands, her shoulders rounded.

  “You know why we are gathered here today,” my father said without standing. His voice resonated through the crowded hall. “This is a historic moment, the first time we have disputed a chosen heir since this law was first enacted. I have named Princess Kalleah as my heir, and I believe strongly in her abilities as queen as well as her rightful claim to our throne. However, Prince Olleack has raised doubts as to her legitimacy, which allows his son, Prince Leoth, a secondary claim to the throne.”

  My father sighed deeply. “Anyone who can see the resemblance between myself and my daughter knows this claim is false. Nevertheless, our law has it that Princess Kalleah must gain support from at least twenty members of the palace in order to take the throne. Failing this, the matter will be brought to the town for a general election.”

  Though everyone assembled was surely well aware of the terms, the attention of the room was riveted on their king.

  Then, to my surprise, the king and queen rose and stepped down from the dais, leaving their thrones empty. They took seats on the front benches, and as they did, the palace magistrate made his way forward. I felt dizzy, my lack of sleep and food compounding my nerves.

  “Thank you for joining us here today. We have verified that all members of court ages ten and above are present. Princess Kalleah and Prince Leoth are, of course, excluded from voting.”

  The magistrate took his place at one corner of the dais, hands clasped behind his back.

  “To begin, please raise your right hand if you support Princess Kalleah’s claim to the throne.

  I held my breath.

  Mother’s hand was the first in the air, followed shortly by Carrick’s. Seven women I did not know raised their hands as well, and when I caught Ricardin’s eye, he gave me a fractional nod.

  But Saniya, sitting to Carrick’s right, kept her head down and did not raise her hand. And as the seconds stretched on, my heart beat faster.

  No other hands were raised.

  Not one of my supposed friends was voting for me. I met the eyes of several young men and women I had spoken to at Leoth’s gatherings, and felt dizzier still as their smiles turned scornful. They had been pretending friendship, all at Leoth’s behest, I was certain.

  My affection for Leoth turned to hatred boiling in the pit of my stomach; he had played me false. While he had distracted me with his romantic words and empty gestures, he had prevented me from spending more time seeking true allies. He had even turned Saniya against me.

  I thought I saw Mother glaring at one of her friends, and another woman I was not familiar with raised her hand tentatively.

  My eyes, itchy and dry from lack of sleep, blurred with tears. All thoughts of keeping my composure fled.

  A vision flashed before my eyes, of a faceless crowd throwing eggs at me as I was shoved down the palace steps, screams of “Burn her! Burn her!” filling my ears.

  This was the end.

  My vision still swimming, dizziness sweeping through me, I stood.

  “I thank you for your generous hospitality,” I said, grateful that my voice at least sounded steady. “I will no longer impose upon you. I merely ask that you grant me safe passage—”

  A commotion from the back of the hall cut through my desperate words, and a small hand rose above the crowd. When the owner of the hand stood, I recognized him as Cal. I gave him a shaky smile, glad for his support even if it would change nothing.

  Then, to my amazement, more hands began to rise.

  Shocked, I dropped back onto the throne. Cal’s friends were voting for me, against the wishes of their parents. Most of them rose to their feet so they would be seen above the heads of the adults around them, some with nervous, wide-eyed expressions, others with mouths set in defiance.

  Pulse racing, I tried to count the hands.

  Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…

  I was two short. Why did Saniya not vote for me? Had she been pretending at friendship all along?

  Yet that did not make sense. If she had been false, surely Carrick would not have supported me.

  The king turned his head to survey the room, as though counting as well, and then, with a nod at me, he raised his hand.

  My heart leapt into my throat. I was still one short—why had my father moved to support me when I was going to lose?

  Then Darya stepped out from behind a pillar at the back of the room. Blushing furiously, she raised her hand as well.

  Relief swept through me, so powerful I felt as though I would collapse. Gripping the arms of the throne, I counted the hands once again, just to be sure I was not mistaken. A few parents were trying to force their children to revoke their votes, but the children were determined—a few even shoved their way into the aisle between benches so as not to be dissuaded.

  “It is decided, then,” the magistrate announced in a booming voice. “Please welcome Queen Kalleah. The crowning will be held in fifteen days’ time.”

  The nobility applauded, the sound echoing hollowly in my ears. They were false, heartless bastards, willing to dance to any tune. Now that I was queen, they thought they could win my favor. But I would not forget what I had endured at their hands.

  Leoth stood and stepped down from the dais. At its foot, he turned and knelt before me.

  “My queen,” he murmured.

  I shot him a look of pure loathing, which I quickly masked beneath a false smile. Only a lifetime of experience allowed me to say, in the cold voice of Baylore’s most hated queen, “I pity you, Leoth. You gambled, and you lost. I hope you’re pleased with yourself now.”

  Then I stood and left the hall, head high, back straight, my heart crumbling to ash within.

  25

  The Coronation

  T he ringing of bells rose past my tower on the dawn of my coronation. Rolling over, I pressed my face into my pillow and willed the sun to retreat.

  So many years of dreaming and hoping and planning had come down to this moment.

  I still could not believe that I was to be queen. I rolled the new title around on my tongue, not sure if I liked it. Queen Kalleah.

  Ever since the palace vote, I had felt numb, hollow, as though I had become a smiling puppet with nothing inside. I walked the hall with my usual escort of guards, and instead of fleeing at the sight of me, the courtiers bowed and curtseyed, eyes downturned. The palace seemed emptier than ever, my footsteps echoing through cavernous hallways, the air cold despite the tapestries. Whispers followed me through the Cheltish wing, but no one spoke to me directly. I dined with only my parents for company and spent my hours locked away in my father’s study, signing documents and sending word to the far reaches of Itrea to announce my coronation.

  I had tried to find Darya
, to thank her for her vote, but it appeared she had already left the city. Even she was not willing to risk further association with me. When I tracked down Ricardin with the varlins I owed his lady friends, he crossed his arms, looking more serious than I’d ever seen him. “You’d better hold up your side of the bargain, Your Majesty. I have a great deal at stake.”

  “You have my word.”

  Every moment I spent idle, Leoth’s betrayal tore at me. The way his friends had sneered at me…that told me everything. Through the many evenings I had spent in their company, they had acted polite and courteous, if gratingly fake. But it was now obvious Leoth had told them his intentions from the start. He knew I was seeking allies, so he surrounded me with those loyal to him and ordered them to charm me. To distract me. Just as he had done.

  And as long as I held even the slightest hope that I might win his friends to my side, I had neglected to find allies of my own. I had deluded myself into thinking Leoth’s friends were my friends as well. Even Saniya—I really had thought she cared for me. Maybe Leoth had forced her to rescind her support. I clung to that hope, because it was far less painful than admitting she had never wanted me for a friend.

  Worst of all, I knew Leoth had lied to me all along. His words had been empty; he had merely said what I wanted to hear. I had suspected him of trickery when he first set out to charm me, but that had changed when we were both poisoned. I thought he truly had grown to care for me. That he had been willing to set aside our rivalry and politics in the face of overwhelming attraction.

  But he had played me false.

  It had been nothing more than a game, and I was a naïve fool. At least I had won. It didn’t feel like a victory, though. Leoth had been willing to hand me over to the Truthbringers, to let them burn me alive. I should have known from the moment I first saw that Truthbringers’ ring on his finger. They were extremists, willing to do whatever it took to destroy the magic races. And Leoth was one of them.

  How had I let myself forget?

  I tried to keep myself busy so I did not have time to dwell on my misery. In addition to paperwork, I had to be fitted for new gowns and robes, and relocate my belongings from the tower to the royal suite. Mother and Father would take a smaller bedchamber down the hall.

  I would miss my tower. Despite the ever-present chill air wafting through cracks around the windows, it had become a welcome haven, my retreat from the stares and posturing. It was liberating to perch so high above the city, and I felt safer here as well. In preparing the royal suite, Mother had ensured there was no one within reach of my power no matter where I strayed within, which had necessitated vacating the lady-in-waiting’s bedroom on its left. Even so, I felt as though I was too close to my fellows.

  The night before my coronation had been my last in the tower.

  Far too soon, a knock sounded at the door. I was surprised to see Lyla and two new ladies-in-waiting in place of the woman who usually helped me dress.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Lyla.

  She smiled, curtseying before she broke protocol to give me a hug. “I always knew you would be queen, Milady. You will have two ladies-in-waiting from now on, and these are highborn young women from Baylore and Larkhaven who wish to have a chance at making connections in the palace. They are newly arrived, so I will oversee their training for the time being.”

  When Lyla gave the young women a nod, both curtseyed and murmured, “Milady.”

  Clearly the time for modesty was past—the gown Lyla draped across my bed, most likely selected by Mother, was one of the finest I had ever worn. Five layers of underskirts and flounces and hoops were fastened about my waist before the rich red gown was lifted over my head; I felt more like a puppet than ever. Lyla tugged the bodice tight, lacing it in front with gold cord until I could see the curve of my breasts over the low-cut neckline. Once my hair was fixed in a complicated knot at the back of my head, the ladies began draping all manner of gold jewelry about me—two dangling earrings each with twin square-cut rubies backed by gold; a heavy necklace that hung nearly to my waist, its pendant dripping with diamonds and rubies; and three thick gold bracelets that I wore around my left wrist.

  “And where is the ring you wore for the harvest festival?” Lyla asked, shifting aside the books and papers on my desk. “That would suit you very well.”

  I had no memory of that ring; I shrugged, certain no one would notice whether or not my fingers were adorned when I was already wearing so much wealth.

  “Ah, well.” Lyla reached in her pocket and produced a fat silver ring set with a blue topaz. “This is the official Reycoran ring of office. It doesn’t match your gown, but your mother wanted you to have it.”

  The ring was so large as to be cumbersome, not at all the dainty style that suited a lady, but I slid it on my thumb nonetheless.

  At last the three women stood back to survey their work. With a satisfied smile, Lyla sank into a deep curtsey, her head bowed. “Your Highness. I am honored to serve you.”

  The other two ladies-in-waiting hastened to follow suit.

  I turned to study my reflection in the mirror. Lyla had outdone herself; I looked every bit a queen. I hardly recognized myself.

  With a great effort, I forced myself to smile at my reflection. No one would easily accept my rule, so I must be the kindest, gentlest, most alluring queen anyone could remember if I was to survive.

  That task began now.

  * * *

  When I stepped into the vast throne room, following Mother and Father down the aisle, the same people who had voted against me now rose and bowed respectfully. The sheer spectacle of the event helped keep my smile in place, and I was unable to pick out Leoth’s or Saniya’s faces among the crowd.

  My heavy, fur-lined robe trailed on the ground behind me as I processed to the front, the necklace chain cold around my neck.

  The magistrate waited beside the high throne, and when I stopped before him, my father to my left, eight others rose from the front row and joined us. Each pair stood before a smaller throne—these were the current rulers from this cycle and their heirs.

  As the audience took their seats and murmured themselves into silence, the magistrate stepped forward.

  “Today we see the beginning of a new cycle of rule. Queen Kalleah is first in line, and will step onto the throne King Baltheor has vacated. She is followed by Holden King Dennoric, Holden Queen Ellarie, Holden King Pollard, and Holden King Morrisse.”

  I glanced out the corner of my eye at the four who would join me in this cycle. Ellarie, of course, I was familiar with; as Mother’s cousin, I hoped she might lend me more support now that I was the undisputed heir. The other three were new to me. The Dellgrain heir, Dennoric, was perhaps twenty-five, with light brown hair and a snobbish expression. The Bastray heir, Pollard, was the oldest of us all, at least fifty, and from the thin line of his lips and the severe set of his brows, I guessed he was not one to cross. Finally, the Vellmont heir, Morrisse, was a handsome man of around thirty, with flyaway black curls and an easy smile; he looked like the sort of person Leoth might associate with. Each wore a robe in their family colors.

  “While Queen Kalleah sits the throne, these four holden monarchs will vote on any new laws. Once her first three years of rule are over, the city will vote whether she shall keep the throne or pass her rule to Holden King Dennoric.

  “On this day, all five monarchs will swear their lives in service and loyalty to Itrea. In claiming their places in the next cycle, the kings and queens before you promise to honor Itrea’s heritage and values.”

  Was he trying to make an argument against the Truthbringers? I knew very little about the magistrate, but his words mirrored the warning Mother had given at the Harvest Ball.

  “Monarchs to be, please kneel before me. Kings and queens, please raise your crowns.”

  I knelt as gracefully as I could under mountains of fabric, the four holden monarchs kneeling beside me. We faced the magistrate, our backs to
the audience, and when I looked up, I saw my father holding his crown over my head.

  “The passing of these crowns symbolizes the passing of duty, responsibility, and honor. Each heir who kneels before me today has sworn to protect Itrea from all foes, to rule fairly and justly, and to prove yourself worthy of the great power that has been bestowed upon you.”

  My father lowered his crown onto my head, where it settled over my hair with surprising weight. It was too large for me, but the elaborate knot in my hair kept it from sliding out of place.

  “Now rise, kings and queens of Itrea, and face your people.”

  I stood with difficulty, the fabric of my gown making a ripping sound as I accidentally trod on it, and turned to the watching court.

  My father stepped down from the platform, the other four who had handed away their crowns following suit. The courtiers broke into applause. Tears rolled down Mother’s cheeks, and when my father took the seat beside her, she reached for his hand. I stood there beside the four holden monarchs, frozen beneath the weight of my new crown, struggling to smile.

  As people began rising from the benches, I realized the official ceremony was over; it was time to greet my people as their new ruler. The crown weighed heavy as I strode down the hall, flanked by my parents and dozens of royal guards, and my heart beat so fast I felt dizzy. Surely these guards, even armed as they were, would not be enough to hold back thousands of angry townsfolk if they decided to rise up against me…

  I led the way to the grand palace entrance, Ellarie and Dennoric on my right, Pollard and Morrise on my left. We made an imposing sight.

  With a great clamor of trumpets and bells, the palace doors ground open, letting in a swirl of icy winter air.

  Despite the numbing cold, what looked like the entire population of Baylore had turned out for the occasion. The palace gates hung wide, and onlookers spilled into the grounds and up the first few steps.