Traitors

by Bella Forrest

  Instead of an altar, there was a font hewn from opaleine in the middle of the room, a dark substance gleaming within. It was presumably the Binding Font I’d heard everyone going on about, though I’d never seen it in action. I could only guess what it was going to be used for.

  Grouped in a circle, around the Binding Font, were the rest of Navan’s brothers. I recognized some of them from the celebrations thrown for Navan’s return, all those months ago, but they didn’t pay me any attention as I approached. In fact, they glanced straight over me, Ronad, and Kaido, as if we weren’t even there, before greeting Sarrask with brotherly affection.

  Lorela was there, too, standing next to the oldest-looking Idrax brother, who was propping her up, a burly arm tucked beneath her shoulders. She looked delighted, dressed in an ivory gown that might once have fitted her, but now hung loosely from her emaciated frame.

  Jareth, however, was notably absent. I presumed Gianne had forbidden him from attending, refusing to give him any leeway in the matter, despite it being his son’s wedding. Gossip would spread, undoubtedly, but Gianne and her spin doctors would come up with something believable, like a lab accident that had detained him.

  “How are you holding up?” Ronad asked, leading me toward the back of the chapel, next to a side exit, where we could slip out easily when the time came.

  I nodded. “I’m fine. I just want this to be over with.” A group of coldbloods in front shot me a sour look, making me realize the acoustics were better than expected. Lifting my hands in an apology, I turned back to Ronad, who seemed to have drifted off into a wistful daydream.

  “I wish I could’ve had something like this with Naya,” he murmured. “I’d always pictured myself standing at the Binding Font, with her standing opposite, holding hands across the basin and saying our vows. She would have taken everyone’s breath away. I just know she would’ve.” A moment later, he looked abashed. “Sorry, Riley. I shouldn’t be saying this in front of you, with everything that’s going on. It’s just, with her nearby, I got carried away… Rask, I’m an idiot sometimes.”

  I smiled at him. “It’s all right. You can talk about it. I don’t mind.”

  With a gust of icy wind, the doors at either side of the chapel opened. Seraphina entered from the far side, dressed in a bridal gown of rich scarlet, the train pooling behind her. It hugged her graceful frame, moving like liquid. Her shoulders were bare, the gown unhindered by straps, though a single ruby glinted at her throat. Black dragonflies with shimmering wings of red and silver fluttered around her, drawn to the glitter of the jewels that embellished the fine fabric of her dress, intertwining in the shape of vines. She was carrying the cup of wax and leaf, and though I couldn’t see her face through the coral veil she’d made, I knew she wouldn’t disappoint. There was no way Seraphina would be anything less than breathtaking.

  My attention turned to the opposite door, where the rest of us had entered. Navan walked through it alone, dressed in the suit and cloak. The betrothed couple moved slowly toward one another, their gazes fixed to the ground, before meeting on either side of the central font. Only then did they look up at one another, while Seraphina placed her cup to one side of the font.

  Moving methodically, Navan lifted Seraphina’s veil off her head. She was just as beautiful as I’d anticipated, her cheeks flushed, her hair flowing down her back in raven tendrils, and a small tiara glinting atop her head. With a slight nod, Navan turned and placed the veil into the smoldering bowl of fire beside the font, the thin fabric disintegrating as the flames consumed it. Clearly, he approved of his bride, and so did the rest of the chapel, who cooed in wonderment at the handsome couple.

  Navan and Seraphina held their hands out across the basin of the font, facing one up and one down. They looked into one another’s eyes, prompting a jolt of envy to bristle through my veins, even though neither of them was smiling. The chapel was so silent, with everyone drawn to the sight in the center, awaiting the next phase of the ceremony. Having never seen a Vysanthean wedding before, I had no idea what to expect beyond what Seraphina had told me.

  Just then, Queen Gianne emerged from the crowd, drawing a gasp from the congregation. Evidently, nobody had expected someone as important as the queen to preside over a wedding. She moved up to the font and stood beside it, waiting for silence to resume before she spoke.

  “It is not every day that a war can be held back,” she began, her voice booming through the chapel. Close by, a coldblood with a camera followed her. “And yet, love will always overcome—love for your fellow Vysanthean, and love for your nation and your queen! War cannot prevent the union of these two people, and we must see this ceasefire as a means of reminding ourselves what it is we are fighting for. We are fighting for the love of our nation, which these two symbolize so profoundly! Even our greatest enemy, Queen Brisha, has paused for this moment. She bows to the will of the South, and the blood that runs in our veins! So, without further ado, bring forth the ceremonial blade!” she cried. A slender coldblood in a red robe hurried up to the font and laid a curved knife on the edge of the basin.

  Slowly, Navan picked it up, his eyes never leaving Seraphina’s. Her hands shook as Navan placed the sharp point of the blade against his fiancée’s pale skin, in the very center of her wrist.

  “Seraphina, do you agree to bind your blood with mine, and add it to the blood of centuries collected below—the blood of our ancestors that will, in turn, be joined by the blood of future generations?”

  Seraphina nodded. “I agree to bind my blood with yours, Navan, and to share that which runs in my veins with the blood of past, present, and future.”

  I felt my eyes widen in horror as Navan pressed the sharp point deeper into Seraphina’s flesh, the first drop of blood pooling up to the surface. It was blue-tinged and dark against the pale gray of Seraphina’s arm.

  The rush of icy air bursting open the chapel door shattered the silence, drawing everyone’s attention away from the ceremony. A coldblood swept through the arch, flying into the room, lifting his voice to the heavens as he landed on the basin with a hefty thud.

  “Stop the wedding!” Aurelius cried. “I demand you stop the wedding!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Really, Aurelius, was there any need for such a dramatic entrance?” Queen Gianne asked mockingly, chuckling to herself as she sat down in a nearby chair—the only one among the scattered cushions. “You could have walked through the door, instead of making a show of yourself.”

  “You have to put a stop to this wedding, Your Majesty,” Aurelius insisted, rocking unsteadily on the font’s edge. One false move, and he’d end up falling into it.

  “I don’t have to do anything, Aurelius,” she retorted, amused by his obvious frustration. “What appears to be the problem? Can’t you see you are disturbing a very poignant moment between two sweethearts—a wedding that the nation has put a war on hold for?”

  Aurelius jumped down from the font and stormed toward his queen. “You promised her to me, Your Majesty. I have the right to marry Seraphina. This imposter does not!”

  Gianne rolled her eyes. “With everything plaguing our nation, do you really think I care about such trivial matters—that I have time to waste on worrying about who marries whom? These two are from respectable Vysanthean families. Why shouldn’t they marry? You are jealous, Aurelius, that is all. You will get over it in due course, I am sure. Now leave here before—”

  “I gave you every opportunity, Your Majesty,” he said quietly, though the chapel acoustics still carried every word across the congregation. “I asked you not to do this, and you ignored me. I pleaded for you to change your mind, but you would not. Now, you leave me with no other choice.”

  Gianne frowned. “Whatever are you yapping on about, Aurelius? These people want a wedding, and you are holding everything up. I thought you were amusing, swooping in like that, but you are becoming increasingly annoying.”

  Ignoring her, Aurelius clambered back up onto
the basin of the font, addressing the congregation and the cameraman, who had the lens pointed in his direction. I didn’t know if the footage was going out live, or if it was being pre-recorded for later, and it seemed Aurelius wasn’t sure either. Regardless, he began to speak.

  “The queen’s most trusted advisor, Jareth Idrax—the father of Navan Idrax, the man you see here—has been jailed for treason!” he cried, inciting shocked murmurs from the gathered crowd. “He has been keeping secrets from the queen and working against her!”

  I turned my gaze toward Queen Gianne, watching the anger rise through her as her eyes narrowed with fury. He’d just spilled a secret she didn’t want anyone finding out about. I glanced from her to the cameraman, wondering if that little speech had just gone out live.

  She had covered up the reason Jareth wasn’t at his son’s wedding, but she couldn’t easily explain this revelation. Everyone knew Jareth was her greatest advisor. If he could betray her, at such a time, then what did that say about her? It made her look bad, and if people began to doubt her leadership, that could only end in disaster for her, inspiring further betrayals, or even an uprising.

  “Aurelius, what is the meaning of this?” she spat. “Why must you spin these lies?”

  Aurelius turned to look at her. “They are not lies, Your Majesty! A quick trip to the Regium dungeons will prove me right!”

  I could sense the tension bristling between Gianne and Aurelius. Her temper was ready to spike. He had made her look like a fool in front of all these people.

  To my surprise, it was Navan who stepped forward, putting himself between Aurelius and the queen. “Even if my father is in jail, Aurelius, that doesn’t annul the betrothal between me and Seraphina. We have been promised to one another for years. My father’s arrest has no bearing on that,” he said solemnly. “You know the rules of our nation. An annulment must be petitioned in front of the queen, or her appointed jury. You have no power here, Aurelius, so why don’t you just leave us in peace, and lick your wounds elsewhere.”

  Aurelius smiled smugly. “Oh, it is you who will be licking your wounds,” he hissed, pulling out a thin, flat device. He pressed a button at the top, and a shimmering screen rushed downward, revealing a document of some kind. “Your betrothal contract is null and void!”

  Navan peered closer in disbelief. “How can that be?”

  “Your father is one of the appointed jury. He has annulled the betrothal contract. As you can see here, it bears his biometric signature,” Aurelius purred triumphantly, pointing to what looked like a fingerprint in the bottom right-hand corner of the shimmering screen. “So, why don’t you back away from my fiancée, before I am forced to remove you!”

  Navan lunged for Aurelius, morphing into beast mode. His wings tore through the fabric of his suit, his damaged one breaking free of the bindings that had kept it flush to his back. The artificial upper section remained in place, the leathery construct fastened to the broken section, matching Aurelius’s disability. Navan’s eyes darkened, his veins pulsing as he unsheathed his claws and fangs, tearing away at his enemy. At the sound of ripping flesh and the roar of Navan’s anger, the chapel descended into chaos, with people running for the exits and diving into doorways, desperate to escape the mêlée.

  “Get Seraphina!” I yelled to Ronad, above the din of people screaming.

  He nodded, weaving through the crowd toward the startled bride, who was trying to back away from the warring fiancés. Although her dress was beautiful, it definitely wasn’t practical. Already, the striking dragonflies had been caught up in the mess, most of them lying dead on the floor, crushed underfoot by the exiting stampede.

  As Ronad and I rushed to help Seraphina, Sarrask and Kaido moved to protect Lorela, while their other brothers surged forward, trying to break up the fight. Navan and Aurelius were in a world of their own, slamming each other into the sides of the chapel. Aurelius might have looked weak, but he hadn’t come to the chapel unarmed. He’d retrieved two concealed knives, slashing at Navan with them each time they broke apart.

  “This way,” I said to Seraphina, taking her hand and urging her toward a door nearby. It led into an annex full of chairs and tables, where the two of us crouched down to watch what was happening. Meanwhile, Ronad stood in front of the doorway, blocking it from the various objects flying around the place.

  It seemed nothing could stop them from destroying each other, not even the combined force of the Idrax brothers. Aurelius appeared to have a circular device attached to his palm that gave him greater strength, enabling him to blast Navan across the full length of the room, but Navan wouldn’t give in. Each time he got knocked back, he just hurtled forward again, dodging the blast device and the twin blades, before being pushed back once more. I winced as his head smacked into one of the pillars, but he just shook it off and flew back at Aurelius, who was starting to tire. I could see it in the black pulse of his veins, visible beneath the gray surface of his skin.

  Suddenly, Queen Gianne spiraled upward, spinning so fast that she became a blur. A gust of icy air tore through the chapel. Everyone froze, their collective gaze turning toward their queen. I couldn’t take my eyes off her either, her spinning body oddly hypnotic.

  It didn’t affect the fighters, however, who continued in their savage brawl.

  As Navan was thrown toward the far side of the chapel, Gianne snapped out her spinning arm and pulled him into the tornado she’d become, grasping him to her. Aurelius followed, trying to get at his nemesis, but the whirling dervish that was Gianne prevented him from getting his skeletal hands on Navan. Soon enough, she began to slow, letting her body turn fewer and fewer rotations until, at last, she came to a standstill.

  Her arm was around Navan’s neck, the ceremonial marriage blade pressed to his jugular. He was trying to get away from her, but there was nothing he could do—she was too strong.

  “If you do not stop this pathetic fight, I will kill you, Navan,” she spat. “And if you do not back off, I will see to it that you are punished, too!” she added, waving the knife at Aurelius. “You have embarrassed me, and you have embarrassed yourselves. Indeed, you have almost persuaded me that neither of you is worthy of marrying this girl!”

  “The betrothal contract was nullified, Your Majesty!” Aurelius fired back. “Navan has no right to marry Seraphina. You cannot change what is written in black and white!”

  “I am the queen!” she roared. “I can change whatever I like, and you would do well to remember that!”

  Aurelius immediately morphed into the meek, obedient advisor. “I am sorry, Your Majesty. I just wish to have what I am owed. You promised her to me, and I know you never back out of a promise.”

  He was doing it again, calling her out in front of an audience. Her nostrils flared.

  “This contract has legitimately been nullified by a member of my appointed jury?” she asked tersely.

  “You had not yet removed Jareth from your appointed jury when he signed this. As such, Your Majesty, it is a legally binding document that removes any claim Navan Idrax might have to Seraphina,” he replied, his tone smug.

  Navan struggled against the queen’s grip. “How do you know my father hadn’t already been arrested when that thing was signed? There’s no date on it!”

  “I can assure you it was signed prior to his arrest,” Aurelius countered.

  “But how do we know?”

  Queen Gianne looked to Aurelius. “Yes, Aurelius, how can you prove when it was signed?”

  “It is a legally binding document, Your Majesty!” he protested, his face showing a flicker of panic. Navan had backed him into a corner he couldn’t get out of, unless he revealed himself to be Jareth’s co-conspirator. Or, at the very least, tar himself with the same brush.

  “If you cannot give me proof of when it was signed, and Navan will not relinquish his claim to the betrothal, you leave me at something of a crossroads,” Gianne said, her tone threatening. “Who has the stronger claim? Perhaps I should
just kill one of you and be done with it.”

  “Kill him, Your Majesty!” Aurelius cried, while Navan said nothing.

  “If you will not stand up for yourself, Navan, you leave me no choice,” Gianne whispered.

  Seraphina shoved past me, staggering into the chapel. I tried to grasp at her, to pull her back, but she was already halfway out. “Nobody needs to die, Your Majesty!” she shouted up at where they hovered.

  The queen looked down in surprise. “How so?”

  “I will marry Aurelius, Your Majesty, as second in line to my hand in marriage,” she replied breathlessly. “If he says that betrothal contract between me and Navan is void, then I must obey. But I will not see blood spilled on my wedding day—that is reserved solely for husband and wife, to be collected in the Binding Font.”

  Gianne smirked. “A woman saves the day. Isn’t that always the case, Seraphina?”

  “I do not know, Your Majesty. I only know what I must do,” she said politely.

  “Other women must really hate you. There is such a thing as too perfect, Seraphina,” Gianne chided. “And what do your parents say to this?”

  Two cowering figures in the corner stood, their arms wrapped around each other. The woman, who looked remarkably like Seraphina herself, was trembling in the grasp of her husband, but she managed to raise her hand in assent. Seraphina’s father followed suit.

  “You see, Your Majesty, they do not care whom I marry, so long as I am married today,” Seraphina remarked bitterly. I hadn’t believed their indifference until that moment.

  “On that matter, at least, we are agreed!” Gianne snapped. She lowered herself down, releasing Navan a foot off the ground so he had to flounder with his damaged wing. He was still getting used to the artificial part, which didn’t always do what he wanted it to.

  I hurried forward to Seraphina, grasping her hand and turning her around. “What are you doing? You don’t have to do this!”

  Seraphina smiled, pulling me into an embrace. “Don’t worry about me, Riley. I will endure every hardship I must face. Now, go to your future husband. I should never have tried to steal this day from you. He should never be mine, not even if it stops a different union,” she whispered.