Throne of Shadows

by Emma Fenton

  “Thank you, your majesty.” Iman gathered up the gown. “Thank you.”

  Sofi returned with the gown Ria had requested just as Iman was leaving. She shook her head as she laid the dark red gown on the bed. “I will say this. You will be making a statement.”

  Ria smiled. “Good.”

  ***

  The great hall had been transformed since the last time Ria was there for her parents’ funeral dinner. The room had been cleared of all tables, no hint that a feast had ever been held there. Instead, an aisle was made from the doors to the raised dais where the throne sat—wrought gold and leather padding—and nobles stood on either side. The Council stood next to the dais, each dressed in pale cream robes that were meant to match nicely with Jaya’s gown. Satisfaction surged through her when she took in their pinched faces.

  Ria stepped into the aisle and once again heard the murmurs of the nobles as they took her in. Her hair was braided and coiled into a bun, and her deep crimson gown hung slightly off her shoulders, leaving her collarbones and her fresh wound clearly visible. Her gown was simple, yet elegant. The sleeves and neckline were embroidered with small diamonds to make the shape of wildflowers, and her belt was a thin strand of gold. Regal, but understated.

  It didn’t hurt that the gown was reminiscent of the color of blood. It was fitting, given the situation. A queen forged in blood and death, Ria thought somewhat ironically, holding back a snort. But it was the role she was going to play. She had fought her way to the top. She had done whatever it took to survive. And the Council, the nobles, everyone…they had all believed her to be weak. Now she would show them she was not.

  All eyes were trained on her shoulder wound as she made her way to the throne. It was a nasty thing, admittedly, and it ached with every step she took. Perhaps I will ask the Elder Scholar for something to dull the pain after all, she thought. Keeping up the appearance of being largely unaffected for the next few days would be difficult if she was gritting her teeth the whole time.

  Ria finally made it to the bottom of dais where the Council stood. They bowed to her, bending at the waist. She resisted the urge to snort. It must pain them, especially Nasir and Vili, to bow before me. Once they had straightened, Ria took her place on the throne. From her seat, she had a perfect view of the whole room. Everyone was looking up at her, for once. The power of it all was a heady feeling.

  “Countrymen, we are gathered here to honor the crowning of not only a new queen, but a new era for Helhath,” Vili said, his croaky voice echoing surprisingly well in the great hall. He turned towards her. “Honoria Ramadani, first of her name, I present to you the staff of your forefathers.”

  He approached the throne, knelt shakily at her feet, and offered her a thin, golden staff that was nearly as tall as she was. She took it and held it in her left hand.

  “In accepting this staff, you swear to guide your people, lead them to a prosperous future, and watch over them. You are their Queen and also their shepherd.”

  “I accept,” she said. It was strange to hear her own voice echo in the great hall, strange to see everyone’s attention trained solely on her. Vili stood and returned to the bottom of the dais.

  Paavo was next. “Honoria Ramadani, first of her name, I present to you the shield of your forefathers.”

  He too approached and knelt. He held the shield up to her. It was small, but sturdy, and bore her family’s crest: a dagger under the sun and the moon.

  “In accepting this shield, you swear to defend your people both in battle and in law, to uphold justice, and to protect them. You are their Queen and also their soldier.”

  “I accept.”

  Finally, it was Nasir’s turn. “Honoria Ramadani, first of her name, I present to you the cloak of your forefathers.”

  In his arms was a long cape made of snow-hare fur. It was pure white, almost blinding, and looked soft to the touch. Nasir knelt for a moment, and then stood to wrap the cloak around her shoulders. It weighed heavily on her wounds, but she kept from crying out. No one could be allowed to see her weaknesses today.

  “In accepting this cloak, you swear to keep your people from harm, guide them in body and in spirit, and offer them strength. You are their Queen and also their shelter.”

  “I accept.”

  The other two Council members came up to the dais. Paavo was holding a pillow that carried the crown. The Councilmen came to stand behind her, and Ria tensed. She knew, logically, that they would not dare attack her now, but she could not stop the bile and adrenaline from rising in her throat.

  Vili took the crown from the pillow and raised it high. “By the will of the gods and the law of the land, I crown thee Queen Honoria.” He lowered the crown on her head, and Ria held perfectly still, determined not to flinch away. “Rise and be greeted by your people.”

  She stood as the nobles cheered for her.

  “Long live the Queen.”

  ***

  Ria collapsed onto her bed face first. The coronation itself had been tiring, but it was what came after that had really worn her down. She’d had to spend hours greeting the nobles and receiving their congratulations. If her exhaustion from the battle hadn’t already left her in desperate need of a good night’s sleep, socializing with people who had cheered for her death only hours before certainly would have. They all smiled so prettily, complimented her on her gown or her skill with a sword, and then no doubt would go home and talk about how surprising it was that the short, softer, weaker sister had somehow come out queen.

  She had done her best not to let her tiredness show. These people wanted a strong ruler, and she needed to prove to them that she was capable of that. But it was hard not to sneer or snap when the very nobles who had pointedly ignored her in the past suddenly praised her and claimed that from the moment the fight was announced, they were sure she would be the winner. Ria hated such obvious lies, but at least it was clear who she could not trust.

  It was just unfortunate that she could not trust any of them.

  Afterwards, Sofi had helped her undress and comb through her hair, and then the servant girl had left. Ria silently blessed Sofi for having the good sense to know when she wanted to be left alone. The moment the other girl had closed the door behind her, Ria had all but fallen onto her bed. It was so soft, but unfortunately her wounds still protested the awkward position. If only I had the energy to move.

  There was a slight shift in the air and then, “Well I’d call that a success.”

  Ria jerked at the sound and rolled into a sitting position despite the agony in her shoulder. Leaning against her doorframe like he owned the place was the demon. He was fiddling with a piece of paper.

  “Only a handful of people bet on you,” he said, holding the paper up and waving it at her with a smirk. “I made quite a killing today. In more than one sense.”

  Ria scowled at him. “You nearly got me killed.”

  He scoffed. “No. You nearly got yourself killed. I saved you.”

  “You did nothing until the last second.” Her irritation worked like fuel through her body, fighting back the tiredness. “It was too close.”

  “You’re such an abysmal fighter,” he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “It had to be believable.” Ria opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Did you die? No. I call that a job well done.”

  He pushed off the wall and walked towards her leisurely. “And now we can talk about payment.”

  Ria stood up from her bed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looming over her too much—although he was still quite a bit taller than her—when she suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was only in her nightdress. It was by no means revealing, but it was a bit thin. She felt vulnerable like this and wished she had her armor back on. Instead, she settled on folding her arms over her chest.

  The demon noticed her discomfort and grinned. “Modest, are we, Ria?”

  She flinched at the use of her name. But it was unavoidable, wasn’t it? Sh
e hadn’t told him herself, but her name had been repeated so often throughout the day that he couldn’t have missed it if he’d tried. His eyes dragged over her slowly.

  “Do you know how mortals used to seal a deal with demons in the old days?” he asked, stepping closer, voice low. He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ll give you a hint, Ria. It involved much less clothing than what we’re wearing now.”

  Heat rushed to her face. She yanked a blanket from her bed and wrapped it around herself as she backed away from him. She had stupidly left the broadsword down by the arena. There was nothing even remotely sharp in her room except for those thrice-damned scissors that Sofi seemed to have hidden again. She glared at the demon.

  “Don’t even think about it—”

  His laughter was loud and warm and altogether too pleasant for a monster like him. He lounged on her bed. “That’s not the kind of favor I had in mind, darling.”

  “And what do you want?” she asked, not relaxing for even a second.

  “Oh, nothing too disastrous. Nothing that will cost you your precious virtue,” he sneered. Ria pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Ten-thousand souls.”

  Ria stared at him blankly. “Ten-thousand souls. And how do you propose I acquire those?”

  “Easy,” the demon said. “As Queen of Helhath, you’re considered the guardian of your people. Or did you not realize that your coronation ceremony is rooted in magic?”

  She scowled. It would make sense, she supposed. There was a lot of symbolism in the items she had been given during the ceremony, and more than that, she’d had to agree to the terms of each symbol. It had not felt like magic to her, but then again, she had not been able to feel much of anything aside from the burning ache in her shoulder.

  “So what if I am the guardian of my people?” Ria said. “That does not mean I can sign away their souls.”

  The demon rose, all pretense of friendliness gone. “You can. And you will.”

  “I won’t.”

  “The terms of the deal—” he snarled, but she cut him off.

  “State that you may collect a favor at the time of your choosing,” Ria finished. “But not a favor of your choosing.”

  She let her words hang in the air between them. The demon’s face contorted rapidly, shifting between fury and indignation, murderous rage and finally settled on something that was ice cold. Empty.

  His smile was a knife. “Well, well. Aren’t you clever.”

  He stalked towards her. She backed up, but there was very little room for her to go and he moved much faster. In a single second he had her backed against the wall. Up this close, she could see that his eyes were deep blue. They promised pain.

  “By that wording, you have some control over what my prize is,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “Very sneaky, but very stupid.”

  “How so?” she spat.

  “Because, Ria, darling, I can hurt you until you’d give me anything just to make it stop.”

  She shook her head. “The terms of the deal—”

  “State that the favor I ask of you cannot jeopardize your well-being.” He caged her in with his arms. “Yes, I know. Rather smart of you to put that in there. But not quite smart enough. Our deal says nothing about whether or not I can hurt you independent of the favor.”

  Fear jolted up Ria’s spine. How could I have been so stupid? He was a demon. He would never get tired. He would never grow old. He could torture her for the rest of her life, and there was nothing she could do about it other than agree to his terms. But ten-thousand souls. She would not condemn so many people to pay the price for her life.

  “Pick something else,” Ria said. “Something more reasonable.”

  “You’re not in a position to negotiate anymore, love.” He tsk-ed at her. His fingers brushed against her cheek in a mocking caress. “Last chance to take the easy way out.”

  She jerked away from his touch. “No.”

  His mouth spread into that charming smile of his, and then his hand clapped down on her wounded shoulder. He pressed against it hard, fingers pushing brutally against the cut. The pain blocked everything else out. It was like her whole arm was on fire, searing, screaming. Her whole existence centered on that one point where he was pressing against her wound, and it was hell. She cried out in pain, eyes squeezed shut as if that would somehow make it better.

  Just as fast, the pressure on her shoulder was gone, leaving nothing more than a strong, burning ache. Ria opened her eyes, panting. The demon had stumbled back and was clutching at his own shoulder, looking between it and her with a mix of confusion and anger.

  “What did you do?” he snapped. Ria couldn’t answer. She didn’t know what he was talking about. When she didn’t immediately reply, he stalked back over to her, and much more slowly this time, as if speaking to a child, said, “What did you do to me, witch?”

  He looked as though he were planning on throttling her, but Ria had no intention of letting him lay his hands on her again. Her hands met his chest and she shoved him hard enough to send him staggering back a pace or so. But no sooner had she reveled in the satisfaction of forcing him back when she felt the force of her push on her own chest, shoving her as well. Her back hit the wall with a thud. What was that?

  “You felt it too,” he said, voice alight with curiosity. “How peculiar.”

  He held out his hand and whispered something in a language Ria didn’t know. A dark shadow swirled in his palm until it took the shape of a knife. Convenient, Ria thought, to be able to conjure a weapon at will. She looked at the knife and then at the demon.

  “If you try to stab me, I swear—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, he lowered the knife to his own palm and sliced. Blood pooled in his hand, black as ink. Ria stared at it, unable to tear her eyes away. So demons can bleed, she realized. If they can bleed, can they be killed?

  “Let me see your hand,” he demanded. She frowned at him.

  “Why? So you can force me into a blood pact? I think I’ll pass.”

  He rolled his eyes again and muttered under his breath about stupid mortals. “I want to know,” he said with strained patience, “whether you’ve been cut too.”

  Oh. Ria felt a little stupid. It was only an experiment, a way to test the boundaries of whatever this thing was between them. She held out both of her hands, barely noticing when the blanket fell to the floor. They were unmarked, save for the old scar from last night’s ritual.

  The demon hummed in thought and then healed his own hand. There wasn’t even a scar left when he was done. Of course not, Ria thought. She eyed his flawless hair and unmarred skin. It’s all part of his deception, isn’t it?

  “It seems we cannot harm each other,” he said after a moment. “At least not without receiving the same pain in turn.”

  “That must be terribly inconvenient for you.” Ria smirked at him. “Not being able to just manhandle your way to getting what you want, I mean.”

  His mouth twisted. “I’d be careful if I were you, Ria. I can’t hurt you now, but mark my words, that won’t last for long.”

  With that, he turned on the spot and dissipated into the shadows. Ria breathed a sigh of relief. She would need to talk to the Elder Scholar, probably, and confess to what she’d done. He would reprimand her, and then he’d help her find a way out of this mess. Jaya had been horrible, but this demon had the potential to be infinitely worse.

  Rest would help. I am still safe for now, Ria told herself. Jaya is gone. I am queen. And the demon cannot hurt me. Even if that last item was a bit tenuous, this was still the safest Ria had felt in weeks. She almost laughed. She had a pissed off demon who probably wanted to kill her, and yet this was somehow better than the position she’d been in only a day ago. Remarkable.

  She had just sat down on her bed when a ball of shadows hurled through her window and slammed into the stone floor with enough force to shake the furniture. Ria yelped. The demon laid sprawled on his back on her
floor, eyes squinted shut. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing at the back of his head.

  “I’m sure glad I didn’t feel that,” Ria said, unable to stop herself. His eyes snapped to hers, murderous. “I thought you said you were leaving.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I tried.”

  “Try harder.” Ria laid back on her bed and nearly sighed in relief. She hadn’t realized quite how much her entire body hurt, but now that she was stretched out, she could feel every ache and twinge. She would definitely go see the Elder Scholar and get something for the pain. Tomorrow, after I’ve had a good long rest.

  “It’s not that simple, your majesty,” the demon said mockingly. Ria groaned. If I get to rest, she thought.

  “Just, I don’t know, crawl back into whatever hellhole you came out of.” She waved her hand dismissively. “And leave me to sleep.”

  The demon spat something in a language she didn’t know, clearly speaking to himself. But he turned his back to her anyway and melted into the shadows once more. Finally, Ria thought. She closed her eyes and let the pillows engulf her. They were so soft and cool against her cheek. Like clouds.

  The loudest, vilest curse imaginable split the air.

  Ria jolted upright at the sudden noise, biting her tongue to keep from crying out as her shoulder was jostled yet again. It didn’t take her long to find the source of the disruption: the demon was once again plastered to her floor, but in the process of standing up. There was a hairline crack in the stone where he’d landed. Ouch.

  “Tell me, witch, did you bind us?” the demon asked, his voice dangerously low.

  “Um.” Bind us? What does that even mean? “What?”

  “Did you, during the ritual, bind us together?” He spoke very slowly, enunciating every word. “Tethering me to you and your stupid realm?”

  “Why the hells would I do something like that?” Ria’s face scrunched up in disgust. There was absolutely no scenario in which she would purposely want this demon following her around. She wanted him gone.