Tainted Throne (Crown of Blood and Frost Book 2)

by CY Jones

  “I have to go now,” he says, holding me at arms length, gazing at me like he’s trying to memorize every detail of my face. Gazing back at him, I look deep into his beautiful indigo eyes, trying my best not to cry.

  “This isn’t goodbye, love. I will see you soon,” he says, cupping my cheek. As if remembering something he looks up at me with a serious expression on his gorgeous face. “This is very important Winter. First impressions here is everything,” he says. “When you meet the False Queen for the first time, you need to show her you are not a pawn, but a much more significant piece. Our people may be different, but what stays the same is that we respect strength. You have to be cunning, and most importantly, never give up.” With that, he whispers “I love you,” in my mind before disappearing in a cloud of shadows right before my eyes.

  Seconds later Tristan finds me alone, staring at the brick wall in front of me. Looking up at me with sad eyes, he asks, “are you ok?”

  I recall Aster telling me about how the False Queen craved power, and loved to play mind games. This isn’t the first time he’s offered this advice. How Raven easily dismissed me earlier confirmed just what he’s been telling me. With my mind made up, I turn towards Tristan.

  “I’ll be ok,” I tell him, squaring my shoulders. With my head held high we leave the alley and join the others.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Winter

  Apparently, the False Queen wanted to make a spectacle out of my arrival. Since the castle is warded from anyone blinking inside, Tristan blinked us all right outside the gates. When Kaiden asked for a report, one of the guards stationed outside informed him that all of the nobility has been called to the castle, and were all currently gathered in the throne room. Aster was right, the False Queen wasn’t going to wait to play her games. Raven, her first attack, was nothing more than a strategic move to rattle me. She wants me on unsure footing during our first meeting, and she’s gathered an audience big enough to bear witness. She wants everyone to know she’s the all powerful Queen, and I’m nothing more than some scared princess, no better than the human slaves she keeps to tend to her. Unfortunately for her, I've decided Aster is right, and I will not be a pawn.

  As we walk through the gates, I stare up at the castle in awe. High up wedged in the cliffs, the castle itself is a dominating structure to behold. It’s everything I would think a fairytale castle would look like, with pale white washed stone surface complete with bridges and towers. This monstrosity had to house at least a couple hundred rooms. It just went on and on, a couple stories high, peeking up in the clouds. Louis the XIV’s Palace of Versailles had nothing on this place, not in structure or splendor, and I’ve been to France many times on that tour, so I know what I’m talking about.

  The more I see, the more I’m convinced this place is definitely a straight up fairytale. The lawns are all perfectly manicured, lush and such a brilliant green it’s almost unreal, beautiful multicolored flowers grow on vines, trailing along the stones, polished stone steps free of dirt and debris glow in the sunlight, and tall gleaming towers topped with tan crenelations holding up red flags with a black dragon. The symbol of House Drogos. I wonder what it will look like with my house symbol floating in the wind.

  The inside isn't any less splendid. The floors are marble and cleaned to perfection, huge crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, real gold accents glimmer on the doors and along the walls, precious handcrafted chrome molding, as well as the beautiful polished dark wood floors in the rooms I’m able to peer into as we pass by while we walk down the hall. Some covered in beautiful expensive rugs or antique furniture that you would see in a museum. Millions of dollars of paintings in gold gilded frames and ancient antiques also fill the rooms, but as I look around I don’t see the splendor. I see my family’s history. My father once walked these halls, as have his parents, and theirs before that. This is my history, and suddenly I’m filled with melancholy over a past I never knew.

  We walk down the halls quietly, each one of us stuck in our own heads, before we stop in front of two huge rosewood doors with gold accents decorated with two black dragons carved into the wood. Through the thick doors, my sensitive vampire hearing picks up many voices inside. This must be the entrance to the throne room.

  “Fabien and I are going to go in first. Wait a couple minutes and bring Winter in,” Kaiden orders Tristan, who nods in understanding.

  For the first time today, I noticed their clothes. Gone is the casual look I’ve grown used to while they were in my world, and in its place are pressed slacks, dress shirts, and suit jackets. Each of them have their weapons strapped to their bodies, but besides that, they all look so formal. I cringe, looking down at my own outfit. No wonder Raven barely spared me half a glance. Thinking back on it, she did have on a short glittering dark green dress and matching heels.

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself as Kaiden and Fabien walk through the door.

  I hear their names announced, followed by excited murmurs and then silence.

  “What’s wrong?” Tristan asks, noticing my mini freak out.

  “Look at me. I’m a mess,” I answer, waving my hand over myself. “I can’t go in there looking like I just walked off the street. Not when I have a point to prove,” I tell him.

  “Then change your clothes, sweetheart,” he says, smiling like this shit is amusing the hell out of him.

  I’m about to give him a piece of my mind when duh, what he says hits me. I can glamor up an outfit. No wonder why Aster spent our last couple hours teaching me. He knew I would need that particular gift. Thinking about the image I want to portray, an outfit quickly forms in my mind. Keeping hold of it like it’s a tangible thing, I transfer it to my body, wrapping it around myself, changing my whole look.

  Gone is the cute girl next door, and in its place is a fierce warrior. Goodbye skinny jeans, and hello tight high low dress made from tiny strings of chain metal. My long, now white hair is pulled up in a high ponytail with platinum wire of tiny lightning bolts circling my head like a crown. Tiny shrapnel is littered all throughout my hair, and I traded my Uggs for tall silver stilettos. Without having to lift a finger, my face was perfectly painted with a dramatic flare. Dark smokey eye with a dark lip. Silver blots and tiny studs adorn my ears as well as silver bracelets on my forearms. My sword is still strapped to my back, as well as my chakram on my hip.

  “You look like a Greek warrior Goddess,” Tristan says in awe.

  “Too much?” I respond with a smug smile.

  “No, it’s perfect.” There's a brief silence before he casually says, “you know, once we’re in there I’m going to have to announce my allegiance to you.”

  Not only is my arrival a big thing for me, but Tristan also. Who knows how Kaiden’s mother is going to react to the news, but however it goes, we will face it together. Giving him a slight nod in understanding, I look down at my familiars and order them to transform. Understanding, they shed their glamours, and stand by my side in all their furious glory.

  “Are you ready, sweetheart?” Tristan asks, looking me over with a shit eating grin. He’s enjoying this, and probably dying in anticipation over the mayhem we’re undoubtedly about to inflict.

  “Yes,” I answer, matching his smile. He’s not the only one.

  Tristan opens the doors and walk through them with me following a couple steps behind him. The harold stationed in the hall calls out Tristan’s name, house, and title. Turning to me, I walk past him, ignoring his curious gaze as we go through another door. Soon, we’re in another room just as grand, filled with people. As soon as their eyes land on me, all side conversations and whispers increase. Curiosity over who I am has sent the room into an uproar. Luckily for me, crowds don’t make me nervous. Years of dancing on stage has taught me to channel that nervousness. Instead, I’m filled with anger because as I walk through that door, I catch a glimpse of the False Queen herself, smugly sitting up on the throne high on the dias without a care in the world.

&n
bsp; Images assault my brain, fueling the fire in my heart, increasing my anger tenfold, and that same anger flashes through my eyes. Her perfectly styled curly red hair brings on images of the blood flowing out of my mother’s body after being ran through with a spear. Her spear. The look pasted on her pretty face is one of pure calculation. She takes me in from head to toe, sizing me up as she plots her next move. Upon her head, a stolen crown paved in blood and deceit sits firmly in place. If pushed, a crown I’m going to take.

  Following some kind of instinct led by that calm voice in my head, I strengthened my shield around myself, and unleashed my power. I no longer see the blur of people as I walk past them. Every step I take leaves a footprint of sizzling electricity in its wake, a slight clue to who I am. As we’re walking forward each person I pass shrinks back in fear, either from the two beasts walking on each side of me, or the intensity of my power. As we get closer to the dias, I notice Kaiden and Fabien bent down on one knee, head bowed in respect.

  The False Queen’s shrewd hazel eyes study my appearance with each step I take. This is not the girl she wanted to see. There is no fear in my eyes. Her plan failed. I am not unsettled. I am not weak. When we reach the dias, I do not curtsey and Tristan doesn’t bow. We don’t take a knee, and we damn sure don’t show our respect. Instead, Tristan turns in my direction and kneels, only to me before I nod for him to stand. I am not her. I don’t need to keep people bent over to flaunt my authority. Plus, this is Tristan’s public stance, a clear indication he no longer supports her. Two guards, armed to the teeth, quickly move forward set on forcing us to kneel, and my two familiars step in their path, growling and baring their sharp teeth, making them stop dead in their tracks.

  “Kaiden dear, maybe you can shed some light on Tristan’s blatant disrespect and who this young lady is?” The False Queen says, holding her hand up to stop the guards from making any further moves.

  When Kaiden rises to his feet, I speak before he has the chance.

  “You know very well who I am since you sent Kaiden to come find me and bring me here,” I announce. My voice is clear, not a single tremble in sight.

  Smiling, the False Queen leans forward. “Very well then. Tell the room who you are, since it’s clear they do not know.”

  For whatever reason I feel like I’m playing into her hands. She’s laid the trap and I’m heading straight for it. Maybe she counted on my brashness, or maybe this is one of the many different scenarios on how our confrontation could have played out. Nevertheless, it’s too late to backtrack now, so in a loud clear voice I say, “my name is Winter DelaCorte, daughter of Lucas DelaCorte and heir to House Storm.”

  Shocked gasps fill the silence, sending the room into an immediate uproar.

  “Silence,” the False Queen yells, and immediately the crowd settles down. “That is a bold statement, little girl, and one that will cost you your life if what you’re saying is to be found untrue. The DelaCorte bloodline has been lost to us for years. Is what the girl says true?” She asks, turning to Kaiden.

  “Yes, my Queen it is,” Kaiden confirms.

  “How do you know this for sure? You could be fooled by a pretty face.”

  “I’ve seen her use her power controlling the storms in the human lands. Even before that, her powers could be felt since she did not know at the time what she is, or how to shield it. On our journey here, I and many others stood witness as the veil blessed her crossing, and gifted her the sword she’s now wearing strapped to her back, twin to her father’s sword King Killer. A sword with her house sigil carved onto it and can only be held and wielded by her. There is no doubt in my mind that she is who she say she is. I swear it on my own life.”

  “What of her father? Where is he? Our lost prince.”

  “He’s missing, believed to be dead. The humans reported that he died when a business associate of his planted a bomb on his private jet. The same business associate tried to have Winter killed as well while we were there.”

  “So you’re saying our mighty prince was killed by humans,” she announces, loudly as her hazel eyes twinkle.

  Games and more games. This was her true purpose all along. To counter my arrival, and make my family out as weak. The vampires here have no respect for humans, and if my father were to be killed by one after fleeing here, then he was no better than dirt in their eyes.

  Angry and not wanting to hear anymore of this bullshit, I growl, “he is not dead,” through clenched teeth. “Just because the human police can’t find him does not make it so. The same man tried to kill me the same way in my car, and I’m still here, so excuse me if I do not think he has perished.”

  “Then where is he? Lucas does not strike me as the type of man to leave his only daughter behind, especially with all he went through to escape with you,” she sneers, engaging in my anger.

  “He’s not dead. He has a bigger purpose to fulfill, and when he does that, he will come back for me,” I say, relishing in the look in her eyes as her face pales. I can see fear, but she quickly covers it up with a sneer in my direction.

  “Prince Lucas ran from here, and did not return for his mother. I highly doubt he will return, even for you, but that is neither here nor there. What remains true, that on my son’s word and testimony, I declare what has been said today true. That you are indeed the true heir of House Storm, and so all titles, lands, and holdings will be transferred to you, and you will be known from now on as Princess Winter of House Storm.”

  How nice she’s declaring me as a princess, inferior to her and her bloodline. She did so publicly, and I walked right into her trap, hook, line, and sinker, but it is what it is. We're playing the long game here, and I will not fold under pressure.

  The crowd around me stares at me in interest. Probably already plotting ways to manipulate me, so they can use me for their own gain. One gaze stands out from all the others, and when my eyes clash against a familiar pair of crystal blue eyes all time seems to stop. His gorgeous face lights up when he sees he’s caught my attention, and a small smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth.

  “Now that that’s done,” the False Queen says, pulling my attention back to her, “answer my previous question, Kaiden. Why is your general committing treason by showing me such disrespect?” Hera asks, holding Kaiden’s gaze.

  “I can answer for myself,” Tristan says with deadly conviction.

  “By all means explain,” the False Queen says tartly, waving her hand.

  “My loyalties have changed. I now serve the princess and her house as I have taken the oath knighting myself to her.”

  More shock whispers fills the room. I’m thinking this is the most drama this place has seen in a long time and they’re eating this shit up.

  “And do you speak for your whole line? What does your brother have to say about this?” The False Queen questions.

  “He,” says a man with long black hair tied in a man bun on top of his head, and a familiar set of turquoise-blue eyes, as he steps forward, bending a knee to me, “agrees with my brother, and House Morta pledges it’s allegiance and armies to Princess Winter of House Storm.”

  With that little display pandemonium starts. If I thought the room was loud before it’s all out chaos now.

  “Silence,” Hera yells, holding her hand up.

  She’s pissed, that’s for sure. It’s one thing to try to humiliate me and my father, it’s a whole new ballgame when she publically starts losing support.

  “Why shouldn’t I not drag you all off to the dungeons for treason?” She screeches, her angry glare pinned on my face.

  “My House has not committed treason against you, or anyone else,” Tristan’s brother says standing up. “I simply choose to follow my brother who has honor bound himself to another monarch. There is no crime in that, nor can there be any repercussions for following blood. That is the law,” he explains, voice booming throughout the room.

  I give it to Tristan’s brother, he’s a smart cookie. Knowing there's nothing she could d
o, Hera sits back on her throne, threading her hands together, her calm shield slipping back in place.

  “And these beasts,” she says raising her brow. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t have them killed,” she replies coolly, failing at distracting me. I barely catch it when she slightly nods her head, and the guard from before moves forward drawing his sword.

  Whatever restraint I had finally snaps. In a movement too quick to track, I draw my own sword, and am in front of the guard within seconds. Our weapons clash loudly against each other. In two moves I disarm him, holding my sword against his throat and he raises his arms in surrender. A glance over my shoulder shows me Tristan has the other guard in a similar position.

  “Enough of this madness! These beast need to be put down, they’re a danger to us all,” Hera yells.

  She's full of shit. This is nothing more than her move to try to pathetically win back control by going after my familiars. She lost part of her army, so now she wants to take something from me, punish me for playing her game and winning. Well, over my dead body will she harm my familiars. Releasing the hold on my power, all around us, the walls start to shake, and the lights flicker. I know without a doubt my eyes were glowing, the beast inside me whispering to be released, so he can take this whole castle down if it comes to that.

  Thunder booms loudly outside, shaking the castle even more, and Tristan lays a comforting hand on my shoulder. With my point made, I let go of my power to stop the building from shaking. Lightning flashes across my eyes, and my hair rises around me like a heavy cloud. Climbing the now unguarded dias, I bend down and whisper coldly in Hera’s ear, “if you touch even a hair on my familiars head, I will gut you just like you did my mother.”

  Pulling back, I watch her face turn as white as my hair as all the color drains from her face. This bitch really should have done her research on who she was fucking with.