“Sorry.” I shot him a pained look, lifted my skirt from the ground, and turned on my heel. “I can’t do this.”
The color drained from Blaise’s face.
My heart forced me to flee, but my duty begged me to stay. I ran as fast as I could, down the aisle and through the double doors. News writers had gathered, gasping when they noticed my tear-stained, panicked face. I pushed through them, knocking one into a wall. I needed air. My throat was closing, and my heart was hammering in my chest.
Light spilled through open doors, leading out to the gardens. I hesitated between there and the staircase. I needed my staff. “Great,” I muttered under my breath and ran up the steps to the room where I had been dressed. I picked up my staff in time to crack a spell at three fae who’d come to find me. They appeared in the doorway.
“Ancestors, I need help,” I whispered, reaching out to the spirit realm. “I’m sorry for betraying our magic, but please, do not abandon me in my hour of need.”
My magic changed colors, from amber to silver, leaking out of my staff like a liquid. It crawled to the fae, wrapped itself around their legs and arms, and bound them in midair.
My father appeared behind them, his staff in hand. After drawing in slow and steady breaths, he spoke to me a controlled tone. “Get back down there now and say I do.”
My body tensed. “No.” I wiped a clammy hand against my dress. “How could you?”
His eyes darkened, reflecting the storm brewing inside. “I won’t ask again.”
A breath burst out of me. Shakily, I gripped my staff tighter. “I won’t.” My voice went up a whole octave. “You don’t care about me. You use me so you can attack Azrael. Well, you don’t need to.” I paused, teetering on the edge of blurting more information.
He growled lowly, then turned toward the fae who were gasping for air from my spell. He shot sleeping magic at them, and they tumbled to the ground. My magic let up, untangling their limbs.
“What do you know?” he asked, his eyes fixated on me.
My eyes widened. “I will never tell you. You were going to let me get married, let me give myself to him knowing you were going to attack after. Why not first? How could you let me go through this? I’d forever be tainted, and it would be for nothing. I was never going to rule, was I?” I wanted to shout more; how it was wrong what he was doing, how immoral it was, and Blaise didn’t deserve it, but I knew those words would fall on deaf ears.
He growled in his throat. “I don’t know how you found out, but the plan was always to attack after, when everyone’s guard was down, but now that is ruined.
“You are not fit to rule. You could never fill your brother’s shoes. He knew what it took, but all you do is whine, like the child you are.” A small trail of saliva rested on his bottom lip. “You asked me to protect lesser creatures. Father don’t hurt the elves. Pathetic. This is not the first time you have cost us. Like when you were floundering with the court ambassador, and I had to remove him to protect your reputation. Yet, here you are, being ungrateful. A disgrace to the family name. You showed promise once, when you told me about the nymph. I saw a glimmer of power, but it disappeared.”
I poked my tongue against my cheek while slowly exhaling. Tears threatened to fall, but anger held me together. “I’ll tell Blaise and Azrael everything, your plans of attack, what you did to Jasper, how you mean to attack Berovia… That you have the sword.”
His eyes flashed red. “Enough!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Are you trying to get us caught? Where is your loyalty?”
“Mine?” I spluttered. “Where’s yours?”
Lightning cracked through the air from the top of his staff. I leaped aside, just in time to miss it. The wall was charred black where I stood seconds earlier. I lowered my head, closing my eyes for a second as I did. Footsteps joined us.
The king leaned toward me, his voice a low whisper. “If you utter one word of this to Blaise or anyone else, I will have you killed. Nod if you understand.”
I gulped, shifting myself back against the wall when Blaise joined us. He stopped by the door, pressing his hands into his knees, breathing heavily. “I came when I heard…” He looked at the mark on the wall. “What happened?”
My father shook his head. “Her time in Berovia has weakened her.” He rubbed his forehead, feigning distress. He genuinely believed that, so of course Blaise didn’t detect a lie. In my father’s eyes, I was the enemy. “She is against us, and you.”
I gaped at them. Technically I was. I knew of the attack, but my father had started it. I wanted to scream at him and tell Blaise everything, but I knew the cold reality of it all… Father would kill me. I’d die, just like Jasper had. Like how André had died when they came for my father’s head. I’d be collateral damage, paving his path to power.
How could I have been so naïve?
***
Blaise refused to speak with me before I was forced out of Niferum. His cold stare regarded me one last time. He had no clue I’d saved them all.
Panicked, I attempted to get up to my room before leaving. I had unfinished business. The book. The spell. Neither I could rectify before we were thrown out. My father, filled with rage, wouldn’t look at me the entirety of the way home. I imagined I’d be sent to Inferis to live out my days in squalor. My mother would suffer for my choices too, not that I cared. It was a harsh world to be out of favor of the king, and I’d destroyed his plans, then watched them settle to ash never to be recovered.
Just like Jasper. Retribution.
TWENTY-FIVE
Morgana handed me a small pouch. I opened the strings and smiled. There were fifty capsules made from flowers that helped my anxiety. I didn’t need them for a while, using Birch’s breathing techniques to keep myself calm when needed, but it wasn’t cutting it this time. Not after what I’d just gone through.
My hand trembled. My eyes were constantly bloodshot from my nightly crying. I had been allowed back at the castle as a courtesy, and fortunately, my father had brought Morgana to Magaelor as he needed more foresight than his other seer could give him. Especially after what happened in Niferum.
I’d asked to go to Inferis, wanting to put as much distance between me and King Amos—as I refused to address him as my father anymore—as possible, but he wanted me close, under the guise of my so-called instability. He had everyone believing I’d turned to the side of the Berovians. My reputation was in shreds.
Truth was he wanted to keep me under his watchful eye. I knew too much.
My wedding dress had been packed neatly into a white box. It sat on my dresser. On it was a note from Blaise sealed with the blue, Lazarus crest in a small, brown envelope. I’d never opened it.
“What do I do now? Tell me, what do you see for me?” I asked Morgana, who paced in front of me.
She wrung her hands. Her shoulders slumped when she sighed. “I can’t. I’m sorry Winter. Truly. I’ve been told not to give you any readings.”
I croaked. “No, please.”
The lines around her eyes deepened. “The king needed my foresight. He asks for daily readings.” She hesitated. “Take care of yourself. If he knows I’ve come to see you, he will have my head. He is paranoid, convinced you have been plotting against him this whole time. He sees you as a threat and will kill you if he gets the chance. Don’t think being his daughter will stop him.”
My chest tightened.
“His heart turns colder with each passing day.”
“I know.” My nostrils flared. “Don’t give him too much, I beg you. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“I only see what destiny allows me to.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You have the gift too. I’ve told you before, if only you would open yourself to it. You wouldn’t need me.”
“I’ll always need you.” I took out a capsule and rolled it between my fingers. “Thank you for these.”
She nodded, then turned and left. I gazed out of the window that stretched from th
e ceiling to the ground. Over smooth stone, a blue rug covered most of the hard floor.
I reread the newspaper headline for the twentieth time that day:
BLAISE LAZARUS CROWNED KING.
It hadn’t been long at all since I’d left Niferum and in that time, King Azrael had died. He’d taken his own life by the dagger of ruin, giving way to Blaise’s ambitions. He was finally king, and a vengeful one. Betrayal didn’t sit well with a faery.
Things were changing in Niferum. I’d managed to get my hands on some of their newspapers, as ours only published the main news and kept me out of the print. Theirs did not. Most were about my “betrayal” of their people, but others were about Blaise’s rule. Feral fae were gathered, ones who couldn’t follow the main three rules, then slaughtered. Gambling was okay. Drinking was fine. Indulging one’s self was encouraged, but cold-blooded murder, treason, or act of terror would rip their immortality from them with the dagger. King Azrael had all but given up from what I had seen. Blaise would bring order to a chaotic kingdom, but at what cost?
We were still bound as one, and he had no idea he was now mortal. One wrong move, and he could die. The sword of impervius wouldn’t harm him, but everything else could.
The king still planned attacks against the fae. I’d listened in on a council meeting when I’d managed to sneak past the guards stationed near my room. Not only were rumors of the ring of immortalem thrown around in his private discussion, I also learned that the plan had been to attack them at the reception, when the fae would be drinking and have their guard down, but my stunt had them on guard. They knew something was up, and we had been forced out before I got the chance to explain to Blaise what had happened.
I felt so used, but I knew what I had to do.
The mirror over my dresser was ancient. The wood frame around it was polished and designed into swirls. Scattered crystals were embedded in it. An atomizer filled with perfume reflected in it. I took the bulb and squeezed the fine mist onto my wrists, then neck. Sweet, warm notes of vanilla with hints of cinnamon floated up my nose. I closed my eyes, relishing in the evocative aroma. It brought me comfort. It was the same scent I’d worn as a fifteen-year-old girl with no responsibilities, aside from staying out of her parents’ way.
I sighed, placing the bottle back on the dresser. How times had changed.
I stared at my reflection, unfocused. My curls were gathered into a ponytail. Flicks of hair fell around my temples. I pulled the hood of my red traveling cloak over my head, then crept out of my room.
I used the secret tunnels so I could make my way out to the local towns.
“Florence!” I gasped when I ran into her. I pressed my hand over my chest, feeling my racing heartbeat under my shaking fingers.
Her violet eyes darted from mine to my cloak. “Where are you going?”
“Running errands.”
“What errands does a princess have to run?” She tilted her head to the side, her blonde waves spilling around her cheek.
“What business is it of yours?”
A sneer played on her lips. “Edgar is coming to the castle. Did you hear?”
“I did,” I snapped, my tone clipped. “So?”
Her chin jutted out. “I heard a rumor he’s going to be made a crown prince.”
“Rumors rarely hold any worth.”
“Oh, I disagree.” She waggled her finger. “I’ve been hearing all sorts of rumors lately, and based on yours and the king’s behavior, I’d say they’re more accurate than you’d ever admit.”
“I’m guessing you will be there to greet Edgar, you power-hungry vulture.”
She scoffed. “Perhaps I will.”
My eyes flitted to her hand. “Did you end up marrying the duke? Or instead run off with the other man you were sleeping with, hidden between walls in empty corridors.” I covered my mouth. “Oops. Was that supposed to be a secret?” I delighted in her panicked stare, then pushed past her, knocking Florence into the stone wall. She yelped, but I didn’t look back. She was wrong thinking Edgar would take the throne. The king may have hated me, but he hated the idea of Edgar more. He wouldn’t let someone like my cousin wear the crown. Ever. Unless there was no chance of Edgar becoming king, but my father couldn’t rule forever.
With Blaise bringing order to Niferum, it wasn’t surprising that Edgar, who had lived there for as long as I could remember, had returned. Lunas were more unpopular than ever with the fae since I’d run from the wedding that was supposed to unite us.
When I reached the right tapestry, I pulled it back and grabbed a lamp. I moved the door back, shushing as it growled against the ground. It was cold behind the walls, but I moved as fast as I could. I needed to find a way to undo the binding spell. Like Blaise had said, there were shadow markets in Magaelor too. I just had to find one, identify the gatekeeper, and pay him to get ahold of the spell to break it. Gatekeepers like Equs were powerful. If anyone could help, it would be one of them.
The pungent stench of horse dung at the stables forced me to pinch my nostrils as I fled past the stalls of neighing steeds. Straw stuck to my boots, some catching on the bottom of my dress.
I spotted a stable boy and a noble lady making out between the trees. I rolled my eyes at their indiscretion, then hurried forward. The longer I was away from my room, the higher chance I had of being caught.
A maze of narrow roads connected like veins in the beating heart of Imperia, the main city in the royal province of Wellshadow. They were paved with cobbled gray, and lined on either side were tall buildings made from brick. The roads converged to the hub of the city, which sat below sea level. Fog amassed over the bustling square as I weaved through the alleyways, keeping my eyes peeled for signs of a tall gate with a strange lock.
A small girl, with two long braids on either side of her face and freckles smattering her nose and cheeks, pointed at me. “It’s the princess. Mommy, it’s Winter Mortis.”
I pulled my hood down, casting a shadow on my face. My eyes darted from her to her mother’s, who looked at me with rising eyebrows. I turned around and was faced with racks of newspapers. All of them had detailed sketches of King Amos, looking strong on his throne, his eyes focused ahead like a snake eyeing its dinner.
PRINCESS OF MAGAELOR MENTALLY DISTURBED AFTER SURVIVING SHIPWRECK
I reread the headline, then groaned. Great, I was the laughingstock of Magaelor.
“Your Highness.” A woman curtseyed clumsily when she spotted me.
I closed my eyes. I didn’t know what had possessed me to think I could leave the castle without being spotted, especially here.
“Guards!” she shouted to the local protectors of the city. “It’s the princess.”
“Fantastic,” I seethed, then turned the corner. Once I was out of sight, I headed for the hills. I ran as fast as my legs could take me. I couldn’t go back, not now that the king would know I’d been out of the castle. I had enough coin and jewelry—which I had planned to using to pay the gatekeeper—to get out of there.
My stomach growled. It always did when I took my capsules. I should have eaten before I left. I cursed at myself for not planning enough. I’d been so desperate to reverse the spell, I didn’t use logic. Lesson learned. I had my staff, and I knew spells that could surpass the average man’s casting knowledge. The public was educated poorly, but us royals and dignitaries were sent to the academy. If that didn’t already give me an edge, Morgana’s books of banned spells I had devoured over the years certainly did. I’d dipped into dark magic once, and nothing bad had happened. I could do it again if forced.
A horse neighed, and I gravitated toward it. A midnight-black stallion stood taller than its friends tied up. He was a field hunter, with a beautiful leather saddle on his back. I footed the stirrup, climbed up, and pulled the reigns.
“Stop her!” a man shouted after me, chasing us down the road. The clip-clopping turned to galloping. Wind pulled my hood down, resting it between my shoulders. The cold teared my eyes, the
fresh air unclogging the anxiety in my chest. A smile crept across my face as we chased the sunset. I rubbed its mane, thankful for my horse riding lessons when I was child.
We rode through the outskirts of the city, passing rickety wood shops with foreclosure signs on them. I slowed as we cantered past slums, filled with children searching for scraps of food. My heart ached when I noticed their watching eyes. The stallion carried me onward, taking me farther from the towering stone and gray-bricked towns. The sun was almost set, and my eyes ached. Houses blurred into bushes and trees the more we ventured into the countryside.
We came to a rest by a lake. The stallion’s tail swished, and he hoofed the ground, snorting as he did. The water was teardrop-blue in color and lined with pine trees. The yellow-orange hue in the sky stretched as far as the eye could see, radiant behind the cloud cover. I shivered when icy winds struck my arms. Hugging my cloak over them, I waited for the horse to drink and regain its strength. I looked up at small patches of black against the dimming sky, where birds flew over Ash Forest.
I pressed the bottom of my staff into the ground. The capsules Morgana had given me were working. Despite running from the prison I called home, the edge of anxiety had been taken away and replaced with confidence. I didn’t know what tomorrow held, but I was safer away from ones who meant me harm, the ones hidden behind crowns and titles.
I rattled the coins in my pocket, then pushed my hand in and fumbled the sapphire and rubies I had stolen from the royal collection. Necklaces tangled with bracelets, among them my capsules. I wished sorcerers could replicate precious metals and gems, but I supposed if we could, they’d hold no monetary value.
As night fell, I decided to push farther north. There was one place I could go, a potential ally who waited for me over the trees, which hid assassins in the night, and snowy peaks that pointed high into the sky. I wasn’t too far from Niferum, and Blaise was king now. He may have hated me, but he was the closest person I had to a friend, except for maybe Cedric or Birch, but they were an ocean away.
The Fate of Crowns: The Complete Trilogy: A YA Epic Fantasy Boxset Page 20
