by Rachel Angel
Kingmaker’s Kings
Kingmakers of Kingsbury
Book #1
Rachel Angel
Kingmaker’s Kings
Published by Romance On the Go, an Imprint of Sparklesoup
Copyright © 2020 Rachel Angel
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Do NOT post on websites or share this book without permission from copyright holder. We take piracy seriously. All characters and storyline is an invention from Rachel Angel/Kailin Gow. Any resemblance to people alive or dead is purely coincidence.
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First Edition.
DEDICATION
This series is dedicated to all of the strong women who have had to face bullying, are facing bullying, and who have had to overcome it.
Summary
Long before there was an All-Royals Academy called Kingsbury Prep, there was the Kingmaker and her kings.
Violet Kingsbury was born to be a kingmaker.
In a time when wars were common and thrones were fought after,
the only name that could bring about peace...the only man that could trump the decrees of kings was Kingsbury. The Kingmaker.
But when the legendary Kingmaker is disposed, and the time of the Choosing has come, can the daughter of The Kingmaker rise to take the place of her father?
She is about to find out as the strongest, most capable, and most legendary princes across the lands come to challenge her for the Choosing.
Becoming Kingmaker, even as The Kingmaker's daughter, will not be easy in a male world where ladies were supposed to be damsels who needed saving.
To become Kingmaker, Violet will prove to all, especially the princes, that she's here to stay, and will be the one doing the saving.
Prologue
Violet
Isle of Arcadia
I opened my eyes and looked into the brown eyes tinted with violet and purple lights of a man with grey hair and a beard. Dressed in a blue velvet robe embellished with gold threading and embroidery. The Kingmaker.
I looked around me and saw I was in my room at Kingsbury Castle. Everything in this room was new, the colors of the tapestry more vibrant, the painting on the wall of me surrounded by young noblemen on horses with a knight…freshly painted.
I was dressed in an old-fashioned white sleeping robe. My hair braided into a long braid, threaded with silver.
“Father,” I said. “What is it?”
“Hurry, child,” he said. “We must go. No time for talk. Get dressed warmly and follow Lucinda down the corridor. Bring your sword and the Kingsbury dagger. Prepare to fight if you have to.”
“Why? Who must I defend myself against, Father?”
My father pulled out my riding garment, a cloak, and boots. “A crown prince who lost his kingdom just now because I delivered the message that the next King of his kingdom would not be him, but his brother. As an act of revenge, he swore to destroy Kingsbury Castle, me, and even you.”
“No, Father, it can’t be,” I said. “Crown Prince Avery would not hurt us. He swore he loved me.”
“It’s not Avery, but the other,” Father said. “I gave the crown to Avery at the last minute, changing my mind and going against what the other had believed to be the expected choice. Now Kingsbury will be attacked by his army. We must retreat elsewhere for now.”
“No, it can’t be. The Other brother…he led me to believe he loved me, too. That he wanted me as his queen.”
“He may love you, Daughter, but now he feels betrayal from us. I can’t blame him for it would seem what I had done was a betrayal.”
“You did it for a good reason, Father,” I said patting his hand. “You must have seen the truth of it.”
“Yes, Daughter, I did.”
“So now instead of love for me, he has hate,” I said.
“Love and hate are strong feelings, Daughter. When one loves someone but feels that he has been wronged by them, that betrayal can turn to hate quickly. This is how the other brother feels towards you. That’s why you must leave now. He will be looking for you. He will want to seek his revenge on our family through you.”
I quickly changed and went to Lucinda who was holding a lamp and dressed in a riding cloak. In disguise as my maid-in-waiting, she was highly trained in martial arts from the Orient and in swordplay as a knight. Lucinda was also my fighting instructor, who taught me how to fight, better than any man.
“Where will you be, Father?” I asked, leaving with Lucinda down a secret passage.
“I will be trying to keep the castle. Kingsbury must not fall. If it does, there will be chaos amongst the kingdoms. More wars fought as one prince battle over another for their kingdoms. The Kingmaker and the legacy of the Kingmaker must last so there will be peace. As a Kingmaker yourself, you will have the power to discern. You will have power over princes and princesses to determine who will rule. For centuries, to appease the people and to appease their own families without trying to divide them by their own decisions; kings have relied on the wisdom and vision of Kingmakers to choose the next Kings. I must not let this tradition die out because of some insubordinate rebellious prince. I will defend Kingsbury to the death.”
“Father, no!” I said. “I will stay then. You go with Lucinda. Or Lucinda will stay with me. I will not leave you here to defend the castle.”
“I have my own army out in the wilderness, ready to fight,” Father said. “There is a band of knights within the castle, led by Honeywell and his son. There are a few at the landing below to attack as soon as they step on ground. Then we have our ships out at sea, ready to fire arrows and cannons at them if they dare enter these waters. We are well prepared. There is no need for you to stay and fight.”
“I beg to differ, Father,” I said. “There is a greater need for me to stay and fight. I will be safer here than anywhere else. I know Kingsbury Castle so well, I can help lead an attack or a defense anywhere. My leadership and training as a kingsmaker and the future heir of Kingsbury Castle and the Kingsmaker legacy is needed here. I will not run like a coward. I will stand my ground. No one will dare question my authority as Kingmaker, even as a woman, by doing so, Father. I will stay to fight.”
Father smiled proudly and patted my head. “Spoken like a true Kingmaker. I thought you would run like others before you, but you have the heart of a strong kingmaker…one that would inspire and lead kingdoms. I am proud to have you as my daughter.”
I hugged my father, knowing how he had wanted a son at first but was blessed with his only child, a daughter. I will prove to everyone who thought only a son could be a kingmaker, that a girl could be one too. There would be no question about the gender…only who would be the best to lead. Me.
As to the man who would dare attack my castle and harm all within…I would deal with him on my own. After all, as I suspected yet needed to confirm, he was attacking due to feelings for me.
“Father, I will seek an audience with him,” I said, rushing out the door towards the courtyard filled with knights and my father’s army.
The young knight, Henry Honeywell rushed towards me. “Where are you going, My Lady?”
“To talk to him, Sir Henry, it is all because he feels not only the loss of a kingdom but of his lady that he is attacking Kingsbury Castle. I will put a stop before
it begins. Let me through!”
“It is too dangerous,” Sir Henry said. “Please, don’t go out to certain death. We need you alive. You are the heir to Kingsbury. We need you. I need you…” Sir Henry pleaded with his eyes, displaying his full love and devotion to me, having declared his love for me since childhood. “Since I know how headstrong you are when you want to be, remember when we were children,” he said, “there is a creek that runs through the castle to the ocean. You are a strong swimmer. If your meeting with him turns for the worse, find the creek. There will be a boat there with reinforcement. I should be there waiting for you.” He bowed. “I will protect you with my life.”
“Henry…” I began. I knew he wanted to accompany me to my meeting with my prince lover, but I had to go alone. Otherwise, Henry would seem like a threat to him and be killed instantly on the spot. “I must see him alone.”
“But he is out of his mind with hate and hurt. How would you be able to talk to him?” Henry asked. “He would kill you on the spot.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Henry. No one should die. No one has to die. Farewell.”
“My Lady!” Henry cried out as I quickly kissed his cheeks and ran towards the gate, beckoning for the guards to open it. When they refused, I jumped up on the top of the gate, having learned the power of Qi Gong from the Far East, and jumped down to the ground below, landing softly on the grass near the beautiful rose bushes planted at the entrance of Kingsbury Castle. I plucked a red rose from one of the bushes and fasten it to the neck of my cloak, visible for all to see.
A red rose. The symbol of romantic love.
His soldiers were lined up along the outer perimeter of Kingsbury Castle. Below on the landing were ships anchored to the beach in the bay. There were enough to storm and overtake Kingsbury Castle. He had come prepared.
And as he sat on top of his magnificent black steed, dressed in black and silver, with his dark blue-black hair flowing behind him, a hint of silver shining from one of his ears; Prince Axel stared back at me with his steel blue eyes, eyes that once looked upon me with hate, then with such love and admiration. I could feel his eyes on me as I made my way to him, taking me in from head to toe, the heat of his stare unwavering.
“Prince Axel,” I shouted, walking towards him. “Give me a moment to speak with you in private. Please.”
“Violet,” he sighed. “What are you doing out here?”
“I want to see you, to talk to you, Axel…be alone with you.” I lowered my eyes to look at him before looking down. He knew what that meant. He had acted upon my look to him several times before in many places…places where we would meet in secret, places where we could not restrain ourselves. Prince Axel and I had always had an intense connection, which we could not ignore when I became of age, and he finally took me.
An amused smile lit his face slightly. “Even now, you drive me crazy, woman.”
“Axel…I know who I want now…who I will choose to be my husband. But I want to know if he still feels the same about me.”
Prince Axel’s eyes widened with surprise. His stern unyielding expression softened and he held up his hand to let me come closer pass his barricade of men.
My eyes were on his, full of love. Full of promises for a happy future.
“Violet,” his voice came to me as a caress from the wind. “My love.”
In my eyes, I only saw him. My bad boy prince who had always made my heart flutter. He brought out the strongest passions and desire in me. Love, hate, pain, and happiness.
I didn’t see the arrow that came towards me, until I fell to the ground. I felt the sharp pain pierced into me, numbing me instantly so I couldn’t move.
“Violet!” Prince Axel’s voice cried out in agony. “Violet! No! No!”
Then all went black.
Chapter 1
Violet/Tempest
As I walked to the sun-drenched courtyard for my morning martial arts training, I saw my trainer, Lucinda, in the distance, pacing. Surrounded by vine covered stone walls that kept the area cool in the summer and protected us from the cold winds in the winter, she walked to one end of the enclosure, looked up then walked back toward the portion covered with a leather tarp.
With her silver streaked black hair pulled back tightly into a neat bun and her hands clasped patiently behind her back, she stopped, tilted her face up to the sun and resumed pacing.
I knew that expression on her face. She was upset by my tardiness. As kind and as understanding as she could be, she did not accept any show of disrespect.
“I’m coming, Lucinda,” I called out before she grew too impatient and left.
She looked up to me, the sun in her face forcing her to squint. Small and compact, she was all muscle, but with an elegant grace that tricked her opponent into thinking she was an easy target.
Nothing could be further from the truth. She was a master, and beyond the techniques she’d shown me over the years, she always emphasized the mental aspect of any combat. Mental strategy was important. Playing with the opponent’s confidence, dismantling it, was just as important as physically tearing him down.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said as I came up to her.
“It’s certainly is nice to have the luxury of sleeping in every once in a while,” she said with tight lips. She put her delicate looking hands on her hips. “Of course, I wouldn’t really know because I am out here well before dawn every morning. Staying in bed until the sun is high is something I have not experienced since I was a small child.”
“I really am sorry. I know how you feel about tardiness. I…” I said, trying to convey my profound regret.
Lucinda held up her hand, silencing me. “Don’t give me your excuses. Your desire to stay in bed tells me that my time is not valuable to you. Despite that, I am here now. Let’s not waste any more time and just get to business.”
I wanted to say something but knew that it was no use. Instead I dutifully nodded, set my towel down on the nearby stone bench and kicked my boots off. With the fine cool sand under my bare feet, I joined her in the center of the square. I put my hands flat against each other in a show of respect and bowed.
For a quick fifteen minutes, we went through a variety of stretching exercises. We reached for the sun, from the tip of our toes to our fingertips, then we swept the ground with the palms of our hands. We lunged forward, arched back and reached for the sun again.
Once limbered up, we move on to light hand to hand combat with gentle and slow moves meant to simulate battle.
Then we started the heavier work-out. For the next hour we did a number of exercises that got my heartrate up and had me breathing hard. Sweat ran down my back, between my breasts and into my eyes. Then we got into various motions, a kick, a turn, a swipe of the hand.
I tried to back away from Lucinda’s strike as she kicked at me, but she landed a blow on the side of my head.
“Wake up, sleepy girl,” Lucinda said, quickly landing another blow of her bare foot to my backside.
I winced but refused to let out just how much her blow hurt.
She spun around and landed the heel of her foot into my belly. I doubled over and staggered back.
“Wakey, wakey, precious one,” she taunted.
Holding my gut, I looked at her. A part of me wanted to beg for mercy, but I knew better. Her idea of mercy would be to come at me even harder. Coddling was not in her vocabulary.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lucinda said when she easily caught my cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re all wishy washy this morning. No matter what, you don’t wake up… really wake up.”
I shook the fatigue from my head and nodded, signaling that I was ready to try again. When she made no move, I said, “Come now. I’m ready.”
Her fifty-five year old tight little body twisted, turned, then jumped in the air, her toe clipping my ear. Coming to a dead stop, she stood, feet planted firmly apart with her frustrated fists on her hips. Defiant and disappointed, she sta
red at me.
“First you’re late,” she shot out. “Now you don’t fight like I taught you. Are you mocking me?”
“No, Lucinda. Of course not.”
“Then what is it?” She looked at me, daring me to make a weak excuse. “Tell me now. Or I will beat it out of you.”
I knew that she would, too. I looked at her, wanting to tell her about my dream. I wanted to share the dream with someone. I needed to share it.
But then again, a part of me wasn’t ready to talk about it. I was still shaken by the images, by the sensation of that arrow. It all seemed so real, so disturbingly real.
I’d died. How could I tell her that without making her laugh?
“Okay,” Lucinda said, gesturing to the stone bench. Her shoulders slacked and her stance softened. “Let’s sit down. You tell me what’s wrong.”
Averting her eyes, I looked to the ground. I looked at the sand beneath my feet, then looked to the surrounding fine sand that had been tediously raked so as to depict the rays of the sun over the horizon.
It was a soothing task that she had taught me, one that was calming and quite pleasant. Every morning, before our practice session, I took the wooden rake and moved the sand to create a new pattern. Sometimes it was simple geometric shapes, and at other times more detailed drawings.
But today, the sand was the same as the day before, perhaps just a little softened by the overnight wind.
“Come, Violet,” Lucinda said. “There is clearly no point in working with you today. Your head is not here. Your head is somewhere else. I need your head here, or else it’s no use.”
I went to her and sat down, my eyes still cast to the raked sand. “I know.”
“You know you are wasting my time?”
Nodding.
“You better tell Lucinda all about it, or else we’ll never get anything done today.”
“I had a dream last night,” I said softly.
