Guilty Crown (The Darkstorm Legacies Book 1)

by Bree De'leon

  Walking through the halls, she skimmed her fingers across the black stone, the edges smooth to the touch. Stopping in front of her, was the entrance to the ballroom. Opening the doors, Lucille stood at the steps, towards the middle of the room.

  Placing her hand in his, he placed one hand on her petite waist. He pulled her close, his eyes watching her movements. Staring up, Lucille motioned for the musicians to begin the music. The room echoed with violins and pianos, with the music he spun Rena once, leading her in a waltz. Analyzing her feet as she stepped in toe with him, following his lead, she allowed herself to fall into him, gazing into his silver eyes intently, smiling, she leaned up on her tiptoes kissing Lucille on his cheek. Wide-eyed, he stopped for a moment, smiling back at her, he lifted her off the ground and tossed her in the air as he used to do when she was a child. Setting her down, he spun her into him, his arms falling over her as she leaned into his chest, and out once more. Their hands electric as their palms yearned to hold each others.

  “Princess, you are being a distraction for me.” He chuckled, catching her in his arms and setting her down on the marble floor.

  “Come now Lucille, this is boring.” She giggled, twirling in a circle her gown lifting just an inch above her dainty ankles. Sighing, Lucille dismissed the musicians, watching his mistress enjoy herself. Gazing out the large window, the sun shined brightly through, reflecting off the crystal chandelier, lighting the entire ballroom. Stretching her arms above her head, Rena looked over at her butler, the man that allowed her to be the child she yearned to be.

  He stood tall, his arms crossed, his winter white skin translucent against the sunlight, his hair was pulled back into a proper ponytail, the wrinkles under his eyes more noticeable, he was much older than she and his age was beginning to show. Puckering her lips, she swiftly approached Lucille, shuffling herself under his crossed arms. Holding tightly, she leaned her head against his chest. His strict gaze softened, resting his chin on top of her head, they stood there watching the sun rays beaming into the room. The city out in the distant, and the smell of salt water inching into the ballroom.

  “How are you feeling Morena, I don’t want you to overexert yourself,” Lucille spoke after a brief silence, his eyes staring off into the city edge.

  “I feel faint, but as long as you’re here to catch me, I will be fine.” She replied, her fingers clutching tighter onto his sleeve. A faint smile crossed his lips.

  “I will always be there for you princess, never forget that.” He assured, kissing the top of her head. They stood in silence, watching the sun as it began to sink into the mountains. They stood for an hour, the calm of the ocean beneath them. He had been her faithful servant since she arrived in this castle, his bond to her deeper than the sea, he felt his heavy heart lift when she was safe in his arms. The love he bore this girl, now growing into a proper young woman, was more than he knew. His hollow soul felt at peace when she was near. Breaking the silence, Lucille straightened himself.

  “I better make sure the maids are preparing for the super, I will take my leave of you now, Rena.” Stepping away from her, he bowed, his eyes locked onto the floor. The doors closed behind him, leaving her alone in the ballroom, the walls draped with the Darkstorm tapestry. Stepping out into the balcony she leaned over the porcelain edge, the wind blowing her hair gently, the sky darkened around the city, her crystal blue eyes glowed in the now purple-red sky. She felt the sprinkles of the ocean below upon her cheeks. She had felt the sorrow Lucille had gone through in her sleep, his emotions chaotic, she closed her eyes, placing her hand over her heart. My Lucille, won’t you tell me your true sorrow? Her thoughts haunted her, feeling a tear fall from her eye.

  __________

  The night sky was dim, the stars bright reflecting off the S’rest sea, feeling a hand touch her shoulder, Rena turned her head to see the King of Arisite, Grygori Alistair Darkstorm—her grandfather. Placing her hand over his, she continued to search beyond the sea. Grygori watched with her, his ember eyes sunken, his once black hair, now ash gray, his smooth pale skin, now translucent, his veins becoming more and more visible as the years ate away at his glory. Once he stood tall on the battleground, his army loyal to him as they died for their freedom. Now, he had only a crumbling kingdom, his only hope resting on the shoulders of his only legitimate heir—Sebastian.

  Rena gazed up, interrupted from her thoughts, looking at her grandfather, a hollowness was growing within him, her heart tightened, wanting to bring her grandfather back to his former self. One that protected the innocent below, but it was no use—Grygori was a drunk, a fool of a king, his subjects mocked his every step. Pity filled her heart, watching him sink more into himself. Brushing a thumb against her cheek, he smiled, his ember eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

  “My precious granddaughter, my sweet butterfly.” Grygori hummed, his eyes not leaving hers. She smiled back, holding his hand against her cheek, she closed her eyes. “How is the council without me?” Grygori asked in a hoarse voice.

  “They are discussing a peace treaty between Kindred, they are to send Drake Trinity to deliver the terms,” Rena replied, turning herself away from him.

  “And...?” He pushed, she only shrugged, taking his cup of bloodliqai and taking a sip, she winced at the metallic taste that burned her lips.

  “And my engagement arrangements, there is to be a trial in two months.” She replied bitterly, her eyes darkening at the thought of marrying any of those blood fiends. Laughing, Grygori brushed his fingers through his oily hair and pulled her into a drunken hug.

  “Your father only wants the best for you, so that you will always be protected even when he is not there to protect you.” He assured, his breath stale, smelling of curdled blood. Taking a moment to gather himself, he looked at her, serious. “I have a gift for you, my butterfly.”

  He continued, taking a small object lined in gold from his pocket. Behind them, the nobles began to flood into the ballroom, all of them lining up to speak with the King. The glass windows were shut, leaving him and his granddaughter alone for a few moments more.

  Taking the small object, she noticed it was a circular ivory music box. The dome was covered in a petal pink lotus, with green vines delicately encasing the frame; the lotus resting upon the lock and hatch. Opening the little box, a butterfly imagery fluttered around her, the wings changing colors from pink to purple to white, a lullaby began to play, her eyes brightening as she began to sing the tune.

  Lavenders blue, dilly, dilly,

  Lavenders green.

  When I am king, dilly, dilly,

  You shall be queen.

  Who told you so, dilly, dilly,

  Who told you so.

  ’Twas mine own heart dilly, dilly,

  That told me so.

  Grygori smiled, a warmth surrounding him as he took her hand and twirled her. The moonlight shining down on her. The balcony doors opened behind them, Drake stepped onto the porch, bowing his head.

  “Your Majesties, I hope I am not interrupting?” He said, lifting his head up, his eyes instantly locking onto Rena’s. Grygori stumbled between them, his arms folded at his chest. His ember eyes dark.

  “What is it that you want Trinity?” Grygori slurred, his voice holding more disdain. Drake stood straight, his smile dropping.

  “I simply wanted to speak with the princess. However, Queen Anjou is searching for you. Grygori, it’s Dymitri’s name day celebration, you should congratulate him.” He hissed, all manner of respect gone. Rena clutched onto her grandfather’s sleeve, as a gust of wind nearly lifted her off her feet.

  “Grandfather, let us leave. Counceelmain, we will speak another time.” She assured, feeling the tension rise between the two vampyres. Stepping between them, she took Grygori by the hand and escorted him back into the ballroom; crowded with nobles and merchants alike. She felt a sudden surge of heat flow through her body, catching herself, Rena felt her grandfather’s fingers clench tight onto hers, she looked up, meeting his
gaze.

  “Are you alright?” He asked, keeping his words from slurring.

  “Yes, just a little faint grandfather.” She assured, straightening her shoulders and continued to walk with her grandfather through the palace halls, searching for her grandmother and brother.

  The fairies were busy flying through each corridor, their wings fluttering so fast that the human eye could not see, but the vampiric senses were sharp; Rena watched as a fairy of light fluttered past, her wings translucent the shape of a butterfly’s her patterns circling the edges of the wings with silver and gold hues. She flew quickly, lighting each candle and chandelier as the night continued to blacken the halls. Approaching her room, she kissed her grandfather goodnight, watching him stumble off into the distance. She turned her attention to the maid—Amelia, waiting for her, a smile crossing her lips. Her pale hands clasped together in front her, her silver-white hair pulled to the side in a long braid, she wore the maid uniform of the Darkstorm servants, the black cotton falling off her shoulders, the white ruffle underneath lining the edges of the dress, it fell past her ankles, covering the white tights beneath, flowing into a perfect ball gown, there was grey lace at the bottom, embroidered at the bottom, the crest of Darkstorm. Sewn at the tip of the black gown was gold lines, circling around the dress.

  “Your Highness.” She curtseyed her lavender eyes meeting Rena’s, a snicker escaped both girls as they embraced each other in a sisterly embrace.

  “How was working under Victoria?” Rena questioned, pulling Amelia into her chambers. Amelia giggled, shaking her head.

  “Difficult as ever, but how have you been since the incident?” Amelia yawned, straightening out the bed sheets. Her eyes watching her friend, carefully analyzing Rena’s staggered movements.

  “Are you alright, Rena?” She questioned, concern filling her voice, stepping closer she noticed Rena had begun to sweat. Taking a rag, she wiped her brow.

  “I am fine, Amelia, do not fret.” She assured, placing her hand over Amelia’s. Feeling her heart sink, remembering just a few days ago her mistress ill battle with the plague. Her temperature burning as hot as the stones in the summer months. Reluctant she began to dress Rena for her brother’s ceremony. The sun was fully set and the moon full in the sky, the stars glistening purple and blue against the seabed. The sirens dived deep into the sea, their flippers reflecting off the moonlight.

  __________

  Walking side by side, they entered the ballroom, Amelia slipping into the background; the candles lighting the entire area, all the nobles stood gossiping amongst themselves, shifting into the shadows as their eyes glowed, staring at Rena, watching her gracefully stand beside her father, her pure white dress flowing down to her ankles, the translucent top exposing her perfect cleavage, the pure gold metal holding the dress tightly together. She bowed her head acknowledging her brother. Her cheeks flushed, she turned her gaze to her father, then to her stepmother, Victoria. Her yellow-green eyes hollow, her lips painted in purple, her porcelain skin radiant, and her long brown hair tied up exposing her slender long neck, with two loose curls dangling past her high cheekbones. The crown she wore fit perfectly upon her head, her bare shoulders smooth to the touch, her gown hugged her perfectly, the colors of house Solomere black and purple. Dymitri smiled at his mother, acknowledging the trials at hand. The nobles stood, their cheers echoing through the halls. Sebastian, sat stoic, a glass of fresh blood in hand, he gently placed his gloved hand over Rena’s, a sudden feeling of calm washed over her, allowing her to relax. Clearing his throat, Dymitri stood tall, dressed in a rich royal blue velvet uniform, the gold tassels made of pure silk and metal combined, the cape hung half in front pinned by the royal sigil. Raising his palm up silencing the growing crowd.

  “Good citizens of Casai, Gaita, Y’graith, and Aiuelle.” His voice roared through the banquet hall, “I give thanks to all of you who have shown their respects to my 100th name day. Today also marks the day that we will be sending for peace in the lands of Kindred country.” He announced, the crowd clapping and shouting praise. His eyes like ice, searched the hall, a smirk curling upon his lips. He continued. “Now to announce the Kingstrial for the hand of my beautiful sweet sister, Princess Morena Abigale Darkstorm, which will take place on the 21st day of Zukeut.” Dymitri bowed, his eyes locking onto Rena’s. “The winner of the Kingstrial will be a crown prince of Arisite, with a dowry of 20,000 Aiulls, and be given the city of Y’graith.” His lips curling into a wide smirk.

  She continued to watch as the musicians took their place and the entertainment began. The jugglers juggled flame sticks and knives on top of large rolling stones, the dancers moved with grace as their bells rang and the silks moved like the sea. Rena smiled as the night continued, her thoughts blissful as she ignored the glares and gossip of the noble houses. A black gloved hand outstretched itself in front of her, startled she looked up meeting the gaze of Drake, his hair tied back, and his eyes enticing her.

  “May I have this dance, princess?” He asked in a calm deep voice, smiling she nodded, taking his hand in hers, allowing herself to be lead to the marble floor. Waltzing, he led her in perfect harmony, his hands gentle on her back, he smelled of apple cinnamon and incense it tickled her nose. “You look beautiful this evening, Rena.” He whispered, his lips grazing her ear.

  “Thank you, Counceelmain.” She replied, twirling into him. Her heart pounding, nervous from the closeness. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her blood rising with each encounter, his mouth began to water, the thought of tasting her blood, slowly, precise. Pulling her closer to him, he took in her scent, she smelled of fresh cut grass and honey, with one single sniff Drake found himself comfortable in her arms, his woes forgotten at the sight of her.

  “Are you alright, Counceelmain?” She questioned, breaking him from his daze, taking her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her to stare him directly in the eyes. His fangs piercing through thin lips.

  “Yes princess, I am just fine.” He replied, bending closer to her, yearning to taste her, his lips brushed closely to hers, trembling she felt her heart drop, not strong enough to push him away she was helpless, his eyes never closing, only staring into hers. She was wide-eyed, confused. Feeling the room spin around her, she quickly glanced around, each face blending together forming deformities, the shadow emerged from the crowds, its gas body shifting through the pillars, its purple eyes watching her, for a moment she thought she saw pure white teeth, razor sharp, dripping with saliva, the sweat began to break through her forehead. Forgetting Drake, the creature moved closer to her, its odor spreading along the walls and floors, opening its mouth she could see a pair of eyes—her eyes staring back at her.

  Rena... blood of purity... blood of darkness.... Take my hand.

  Its voice grew clearer as it reached out its gaseous hand, compelled and entranced, she moved away from Drake, her eyes pale, taking the creature’s hand in hers, she suddenly collapsed to the ground.

  Drake lifted her limp body from the marble floor, his voice piercing through the laughter, shouting for Sebastian. In a moment, the room fell silent watching in disbelief. He lifted her head gently feeling the heat on her cheeks. In a second, Sebastian was by the nobleman’s side, taking his daughter in his arms.

  “What happened Drake?” Sebastian questioned, quickly disappearing into the hallway with Drake close behind. Lucille had appeared beneath the shadows, his fists clenched, with his jaw tightened, the helpless feeling washing over him.

  “She was fine one moment, and the next she just collapsed, I thought we had rid her of the plague?” Drake whispered, knowing the walls had ears and if the rumors continued of her deteriorating health; the corruption in the council would surely rise, plotting more vigorously on overthrowing their weak king and his blood.

  “Lucille, get Liliana, now,” Sebastian shouted, wiping the sweat from his daughter’s brow. She felt weaker than the last incident, like her soul was being ripped from her being. Mom
ents later, Victoria arrived, shuffling her skirts, her cat-like eyes narrowed, another attack. She thought.

  “How is she my dear?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on her husband’s shoulder.

  “Another attack, this is the second one in two days.” Sebastian choked, his body stiff, worried filled his spirit. Placing a pale hand on his cheek, she took her step-daughter gently from her father’s grasp.

  “Go, celebrate your son’s day of celebration. Liliana and I will care for the child.” Victoria’s voice was firm, her eyes narrowing as she glared into her husband’s eyes as if to challenge him. “Go now,” She snarled, her fangs bared.

  “Very well, take care she does not die.” He warned, his eyes watching his wife, the fire burning deep beneath his skin. Turning on his heel, the flowers hanging from the doorway decayed as he passed. With ungodly speed, Liliana appeared, lifting Rena into her arms, her sea-green eyes gentle.

  “She is burning, why have you not taken her to her to the medical rooms right away?” Liliana asked, confusion filling her voice. Victoria shook her head, unable to answer the healer. Rushing past the Druids and merchants alike, her ash blonde hair loose behind an orange veil. Victoria quick behind her, lost for words she hissed orders for the maids to prepare the medical rooms, kicking through the infirmary the healer assistances readied a bed, in haste Liliana laid the girl down on the light mattress. Quickly she unlaced the young princesses dress, stripping her down naked, and placing a simple gown over her arms.

  “Victoria, bring me my tools now, quickly,” She demanded, removing her veil and tying her hair behind a medical cape.

  Doing as she was told, Victoria brought over the healer’s tools and incense. The room fell silent, with only the faint gasps of air coming from Rena. Liliana, placed her pale hand upon the girl’s forehead letting her powers seep through her body. A yellow tint escaped the healer’s fingertips and palm, surrounding the girl’s body completely, the incense in the room increased, the smell of the ocean and summer air filled the medical room. Victoria watched intently, her cat-like eyes never flinching from the sight of her stepdaughters’ struggle against herself. The healers continued to circle around the young princess, each one attempting to remove the remnants of the plague.