Alara's Curse

by S. L. Perrine

  “I will, with the regent, but why should such things come between us? I’ve really enjoyed our time together. Haven’t you?” She folded her hands together in her lap and looked up at him.

  Landon slowly sat back down. His expression never changed. His anger showed through his eyes, the crease of his brow, and even in the upturned lips of his mouth. “Why not? I am to be the king after today.” He sat back and placed one knee across the other. “At my hand, this deal will be made and penned.”

  “She hasn’t told you yet, has she?” Layana stood and paced behind the sofa. “You are to be king in title only. You must be eighteen to take the throne unless the council will grant you early reign. Seeing as how you’ve recently come to the palace, they will not. You need instruction.”

  “I’ve had instruction,” he growled.

  “You are not Declan. They know him and will very likely not want you as their king, but your brother. Your being kidnapped has ruined your chances at ever ruling this kingdom. As one of the leaders of the lands, I would have had a problem with you taking up the throne since your upbringing was less than ideal. Of course, that would have been before meeting you. Now, I have no qualms about you being my king.” She stopped behind the sofa and placed her hands on the back, sliding them over the fabric, something Landon could imagine she’d done a hundred times since arriving at the palace.

  “Why tell me this?” He didn’t move more than his eyes as they watched her.

  “Because, my dear prince, I happen to think you want nothing to do with ruling the kingdom. At least, not under your mother.” Layana sat back down on the sofa. “Orange juice?” She lifted the carafe and poured two glasses of juice.

  “My mother will help me with anything I don’t know. She’ll be by my side to make sure I’m doing the right thing.” He dropped his leg and moved forward in his seat to accept the glass of juice.

  “How do you know that? You barely know her, and I have a feeling she doesn’t care one way or the other which of the two brothers will rule beside her.” She looked over her glass.

  Landon had a feeling she was right, but he would not come out and say it.

  “So, the army?” he asked, then tipped the glass back and emptied it before returning it to the table. “Will you give us the army?”

  “I will give you the army. I will sign an agreement between myself and the true ruler, for the rights to use my army for no more than two years.” She went to a desk across the room and pulled a single drawer open. From it, she slipped out a folded piece of paper. She spun on her heel, holding it high in front of her face. Once again, Landon was forced to look into her eyes. “This says as much. Already signed and waiting for your command, Majesty.” She curtsied as she said the last word.

  Landon had no idea what he was doing. He stood and walked to the girl with the golden hair and pale pink dress. He put two fingers under her chin, lifting her from her curtsey, as he raised his hand. She stared at him, not unafraid as she usually was, but with something different in her big brown eyes. She trembled beneath his touch, which only made him want to touch her more. He snatched the paper from her still upheld hand and pushed it into the pocket of his trousers. His hand slid from her chin to the delicate skin of her jaw, and back further to the nape of her neck. He moved, almost on instinct. He’d never felt this inside him before.

  She stared at him, not speaking. Not moving. Landon gave her as much room to move if she’d wanted to, but she stood her ground as his other hand moved up to the curve of her hip. He moved closer still, pausing, letting their eyes meet before dipping his mouth down to hers. His fingertips dug into her, and he wished to feel the warm flesh beneath the gossamer and silk.

  He’d imagined she’d taste like a rose. If he’d known what a rose taste like, he would have kissed her much sooner. Sugar rolled around his mouth as they both moved to intensify the kiss. She parted her lips, allowing him to deepen it further. His hands dug and kneaded her hip and neck. Somehow, he’d missed when hers had moved to him until her sharp nails bit against him through the fabric of his shirt.

  Then it was over. Landon pulled from Layana, and she from him, as soon as the double doors opened to show a new visitor to the room.

  “Ah, I see you two are getting along. Maybe today's coronation should have a nice announcement attached?” Talia stood in front of the open doors, her hands held together in front of her. She wore her crown, woven into the long dark hair, braided and pinned to her head. Her gown was a putrid green monstrosity of satin and lace.

  “Talia. It’s uncouth for you to make yourself welcome into a closed room without being announced.” Landon straightened his shirt and smoothed his dark hair.

  He stood in front of Layana so the queen couldn’t see her. He didn’t move until Layana ducked from behind him and walked to the sofa, gesturing to Talia.

  “Talia, please do come in. We were just having a bit of breakfast before taking a turnabout in the garden.” She didn’t wait for Talia to answer her and sat alone on her sofa.

  Landon remained where he stood when his mother entered the room.

  “Oh, no. Don’t mind me. I am afraid the gardens are going to have to wait for another day, however. The king is due to see the tailors. He will be coronated today, you know.” She turned her smile from Layana and glared at Landon.

  “And only one day after his father’s funeral. How poetic.” Layana resorted to sarcasm more than anything when speaking with Talia, and Landon had come to understand and interpret her moods.

  “Yes, well…” Landon moved to the door, spun on his heel and bowed to Layana, who stood in anticipation of his departure. “Lady, I hope to see you this evening at dinner.”

  “Of course.” She bowed her head.

  “Oh, yes, dinner will be an amazing celebration. You will be sure to save a dance for the king, won’t you?” Talia didn’t wait for a response, and Layana knew she wasn’t really asking for one.

  “Be careful,” Layana whispered as Landon turned to leave the room.

  THEY walked the length of the halls in absolute silence, which had become customary for them. Once they were in the private chambers of the royal house, Talia spun on him.

  “Oh, you’ve done it, haven’t you? You got the army from her. You’re a sneaky king.” She clasped her hands together in front of her and smiled wide.

  “Yes, she gave it to me in writing.” He pulled the paper from his pocket and held it out to her.

  She snatched it out of his hand, spinning to read it in the light of the sun beaming through the window. Of all the draped sills in the grand sitting room of the royal house, only one was ever open. Talia hated sunlight, but she didn’t dare waste the candles. At that moment, she drew the drape open a bit more.

  “Wait, this says the rightful ruler of the kingdom,” Talia spoke with a hint of contempt.

  “That’s what she said. They may be used for no more than two years by the rightful ruler.” He thought back at the way she looked when she had spoken the words. An air of confidence in her demeanor made him see her in a light he’d not seen in anyone before.

  Talia spun back around to read it further. “Oh well, that makes no difference. After today, you will be the rightful ruler, and under my regency, I will have command of the men. Now, we can get what we so deserve.”

  “What is the army for, Mother?” Landon forgot himself for a moment. He vowed never to ask, but what Layana said about Talia taking over as ruler bothered him. Now, he wanted nothing more than for her to confide her plans in him.

  “You will see, my son. For now, you have a coronation to get prepared for. To the tailors with you.”

  She shooed him into his bedchamber, where three men stood waiting for him. One had a bracelet around his wrist, which seemed to contain a large number of pins in it. A measuring tape hung around his neck, as well as one of the other men.

  Landon had never seen them in the palace before. They were similar in age and build, and as Landon studied them a bit
closer, they could have been related. Stark white hair crowned their heads, leaving the very tops bare. Each wore a finely-pressed suit— although the men seemed a bit ruffled— and ushered him in hurriedly.

  “Come, come,” the first man said, a few pins stuck between his teeth.

  Landon moved forward, stepping on top of a small rounded platform the men had placed in the middle of his room. They each came at him with fabric rulers, measuring the length of his arms from wrist to shoulder and the inside of his leg. When the second man’s hand brushed against the length of him, Landon jumped.

  “Apologies, Majesty,” the man said. He bowed, waiting for Landon to let him continue with his work.

  “Am I wrong in assuming this is something that should have been done weeks in advance?” He looked down, only to have his chin brought up, so he stared at the back wall of his room that held his bed in front of it.

  “No, sire, but as we did not have the usual amount of time to plan for today, we did not have advance time to do the work. We will measure you and quickly work to fit one of your father’s old suits. They seem to fit you rather well,” the first man said.

  “Oh, well, how long is the usual amount of time?” he asked the men.

  “The usual time is roughly one to two months.”

  They didn’t look at or speak to him for the next forty-five minutes. They had him put on a dark suit, so they could mark it. They assured Landon the size wasn’t too far off, and they could have it ready one hour before coronation time.

  A maid came to his room, whisking him away to the throne room for a walkthrough. With all the planning being put off until last minute, it felt as if his mother only bothered with all the preparations to keep up appearances. Suddenly, what Layana had said about his mother’s plan had not been so far-fetched.

  When Landon walked into the room, she stood by the throne, yelling instructions to the men and women coming and going with decorative banners that needed to be hung.

  Each flag was from the previous kings, attached during the coronation to show how each house was recognized and related through time. His father’s flag would be the one closest to his.

  Talia had not let him in on what his banner would have on it. He preferred to do what many had done before him. Most of them did it, he saw as he glanced around the room. More than half of the banners before his were of the lion and crown, the same as his father’s; the one he’d wanted to rule under.

  Talia forbid it. She said she took him off the throne to replace him with her son, not Tomas’.

  Landon stood and gaped at the banner hanging above the throne. It was red, rather than the yellow of his father’s. Upon it was a gold silhouette of a griffon. Why she would pick such an animal made no difference to him. If he chose to, he could change it later during his reign. Suddenly, as she turned and saw him staring at the banner, he wondered how long that might be.

  “Are you impressed?” She climbed down from the dais.

  “Of the banner, sure. It’s not what I would have picked, but it’s good.” He studied the rest of the chamber and tried not to show much interest in the state of the banners.

  Talia moved behind him as he took a turn about the room. It was apparent she decorated the area. Flowers were not the typical adornment for a king’s coronation, yet she’d filled the room with red and yellow carnations. Ribbons hung from the sconces on the walls.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a bit much, but what would I know,” he said, turning to his mother and smiling wide for her. “It looks good either way. What about the banquet room? Is that done quite similar?” He feigned interest.

  “Yes. It will be an amazing party. One in which you will be sure to name me as the regent. Then we can rule side by side.” She moved away from him, concluding the conversation. “You’ll walk to the front. The High Chancellor Palor Vetise will swear you in. He will hand you the scepter and place the crown upon your head as you take your vows. Once that is done, you turn to the congregation and bow, being careful not to drop the crown,” she said with indignation in her voice. “Then you’ll be led from the room.”

  “To where?”

  “Well, you’ll go back to our apartments or your study for a time. Once everyone is assembled in the dining hall, we will be ushered to the party.” She turned to look at him then. “You’ll be given time for a quick speech, naming me regent, and then we feast.”

  “Why would I have to name you regent?” He was confused.

  “Well, technically the regent gets voted in by the council unless the king has a person in mind. Normally if the king has passed, the mother of the king will be voted in. Since I’m not entirely popular with the council, we need you to announce it, so there is no question.” She looked at him, her eyes boring into him. “Why would you not choose me as your ruler?”

  “You wouldn’t be my ruler. You’d be ruling in my stead till my eighteenth birthday, so I’m told,” he added quickly.

  “Are you challenging your mother?”

  “No, why would I do that? This is all your doing. You made this possible for me. Casting me aside, making me grow up without a family. To live away from here where I could be taught all the proper ways to do these things. Why would I go against you?” He moved to her and placed his hand on her shoulders. “I owe this all to you.” He gave her a quick smile, kissed her cheek, and pulled her into an embrace.

  Surprisingly, she let her head rest on his shoulder for just a moment. “I regret not being able to be a proper mother to you. However,”— she pushed him to arm’s length— “we have all the time in the world for that. Now, go, get ready.”

  “Yes, Mother.” He bent at the waist and took two steps backward, then he turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

  He walked with all the grace of a king, just as his father had taught him during their lessons. He remembered everything Tomas had taught him. He recalled the only thing Talia had ever shown him during her visits, was how to obey her and be her accomplice.

  When he saw Lady Layana coming around the corner, he didn’t slow his stride when she hooked his arm within hers and nudged her to walk with him. Then, as low as he could without anyone hearing him, he whispered to her. “Please tell me you have a plan for delaying this coronation. I don’t think I can go through with this.”

  Layana said nothing, but she smiled so broadly that all he could see out the corner of his eye was the white of her teeth. “I may have something up my sleeve.”

  CHALLENGING Talia would not be easy. She had the backing of the palace, her guards, and the new king. Thea was sent word regarding the time of the coronation.

  For them to get an idea of where they stood, Thea would attend the event held for Landon. She had to seek out Palor and assess the council. They needed to know if everyone in the palace sided with Talia. It would also help to know what her plans were at that very moment.

  The ocean sprayed over the bow. It misted Alara and Scarlett, who watched the path of the sea they were traveling.

  Thea had sent a messenger from the palace almost immediately after arriving. It seemed Lady Layana of Omath had been visiting the usurper, though apparently not of her own volition. She was there to release the use of her army to Talia.

  So, she may have an army willing to go on an expedition, no matter how dangerous. The men and women she’d taken had fought back, and some never returned. She’d have them killed to strike fear into the others. It had worked for many, but they still wouldn’t work for her without protest.

  Now, she had an army who knew it was the will of their lady to serve the so-called queen. With them, she may have the numbers she wanted to head west.

  After relieving the island of the curse, with Thea’s help, they set sail aboard the same vessel Thea had sent them to Ikrith upon. With Iren still weak, the trip wouldn’t prove to be any faster. Had he been at his full strength, the sorcerer could have added to the magic of the fae, making them arrive at their destination half a
day sooner.

  Talia, as it seemed, was still interested in their movements. She also had her way of discovering that information.

  She sent a cruiser after them. Having received substantial hits, their ship was damaged beyond magical help. Iren used what little magic he had left on keeping the blasted ship afloat and getting them to Grotia. With the southern port still under heavy guard, they’d opted to try and sail around Esix to reach the north port. However, the path was too long.

  They headed toward the southern point of Esix, lands they had never anticipated traveling through. If they could handle the journey, they could slip through Grotia, but they’d all agreed it was too densely occupied. They would have to travel through the forests of Esix, home to the Baron and Baroness Geleon.

  Stories of the two had been wholly exaggerated through the years since Talia’s reign began. The moment she had her plan in hand, she’d made sure to strategize a way to keep all the lords and ladies from going against her in any way. How she thought Tomas was naive to it all was amazing in itself.

  Tomas visited the lands of his people whenever he could. He’d told Declan that the baron was under a horrible affliction. He never took an audience with anyone, never left his chambers, and the staff of his house didn’t see him. His wife, Belinda, cared for him on her own.

  Though over the years, stories of a carnivorous beast living within the walls of the Geleon home became legend. Alara wondered what indeed befell her friends.

  It seemed like she wasn’t the only one to fall at the hands of Talia and her plans for power. Each of the land’s rulers seemed to have had dealings with Talia that left them on the receiving end of despair.

  With Talia wanting to travel to the wastes for the Emerald Flame, Alara saw how having all the kingdom’s leaders on her side was a significant advantage for the usurper. Making it a considerable disadvantage for the rest of them.

  The ship groaned underfoot. The passengers were told to stand at the bow and wait for land to come into focus. On the off chance that Iren could not hold it afloat to dock it correctly, they would have to swim to shore. Alara didn’t look forward to that, mainly because she couldn’t remember if she could swim. She didn’t remember when she’d spent any time in the water for recreation.