Guilty Crown (The Darkstorm Legacies Book 1)

by Bree De'leon

  “Go daughter, find the Familiar girl and get her to safety. Aurelius and I will handle this witch.” He demanded, commanding his army behind him and fighting off the hordes of beasts. Anjou nodded, leaving her father and his army to deal with the weaker of the creatures. Ignoring all the chaos around her, Anjou searched for Lilith, only to find her running in the meadow, behind her a massive lycan of purple almost black fur, his green-yellow eyes dilated, as he lurched forward at the girl, tripping over her torn dress, she cried in pain reaching for her twisted ankle.

  “Lilith.” Anjou shouted, everything happening so fast, Grygori and Drake fighting side by side against Leviathan, her father with Aurelius and Theodore holding off the hordes, and her light, the only purity in this world being hunted. Moving with speed she never knew she had, Anjou flew towards Lilith, cracking through the air, Lilith, hold on please. Anjou’s thoughts rang in her ears with a sudden sharp pain piercing through her chest, the blood spilling from her mouth as she plunged to the ground. Standing above her the witch stood, licking her lips.

  “My what a persistent girl you are.” She smiled, her teeth razor sharp as she landed the sword down.

  __________

  A sudden lurch back into himself, Sebastian was disoriented, the sweat beading down his head, he snapped his attention toward the broken room. Alexander behind him, confused and concerned. He could feel the ghosts of this place circling them. The open hole in the wall a reminder of death.

  “Are you alright?” He asked, helping the vampyre to his feet.

  “Yes, we need to leave at once, assure that Simon has made it to Casai to assist in training my daughter.” He coughed, resisting the urge to vomit, turning his head, he saw in the light a girl—Lilith, staring at him, her eyes filled with sorrow, as she smiled at him, her arms directing him to her chest, a chest filled with secrets. Looking back up, she was gone.

  “Did you see her?” Alexander questioned, readying himself for a possible battle, Sebastian nodded his head, lifting the chest from the ground, to find a secret cellar that lead out of the city.

  “That was the first Princess of this city.” He finally mentioned, leaving Isadora behind, the locket left upon the decaying stone of the throne room. The ghost watched the son of Anjou disappear from the cursed city, a haunted look in her eye, she cried in silence.

  __________

  Month: Zukeut-1st—Year: 1511AF

  Rena and Amelia strolled through the halls, assuring the nobles and citizens that all was well, their presence easing the hearts of her people. Grygori had locked himself in the throne room, not allowing anyone inside; not even his wife. It was the 1st day of Zukeut, and no news of her father’s return, she began to worry, with only the easement of Lucille and Amelia there to calm her nerves. In the crowd Anjou appeared, her eyes locking onto her grandchild’s.

  “My darling Rena, I am happy you are alright, how’s your training?” She kissed her forehead.

  “It’s only been five days, but Lucille is doing a marvelous with training us.” She assured, embracing her grandmother.

  “Come with me, both of you,” Anjou demanded, standing tall, she began to walk towards the arena, staring at each other with confusion. Rena and Amelia did as they were told.

  Entering the arena, a man stood waiting, his shoulders held high, as he watched the girls intently. They stared at him for a moment, waiting for a proper introduction, following close behind Lucille stood in the shadows, his arms crossed, glaring at Simon.

  “Girls, this is your proper teacher, Simon. He has been alive for a long time and knows how to properly train both of your abilities.” Anjou announced, giving her respects to him.

  “Thank you, queen Anjou, it is an honor to be a teacher to those of pure and true hearts.” He answered truthfully. His eyes shifting to the shadows, in a blink of an eye as if he never left his post, he held Lucille by the throat, tossing him against the wall. “However, I do not appreciate vermin eavesdropping on my teaching. It has been awhile Lucille, I see you are no longer under your father’s seduction?” Simon mocked, the hues of his eyes now black.

  “No, I am under the command of her highness Princess Morena Abigale Darkstorm.” Lucille clenched his teeth. Analyzing him, Simons eyes shifted white, peering through his soul. A chain of purple and silver—Blood oath.

  “I see it is more than just mere servitude, you have contracted with her, using the blood oath. You truly are stupid.” He taunted, his eyes snapping to Renas. Searching her soul, the purple rings encasing the ivory lace of her soul. Darkness and purity, they failed to tell me she is of Familiar blood. His thoughts continued, turning his attention to Amelia. Her soul pure white stars, encased with blue moon dust of the Guardians blessing. The daughter of the gods, how interesting that these two girls would possess such power. I best do well to teach them self-control. He smiled to himself, turning his back to them. “Anjou, please leave me with them, take Leviathans spawn out of here at once.” He demanded, opening both of his palms, the right encased with black chains, the left a pure white sword, as his wings enlarged the girls watched in amazement as his eyes changed to black and white.

  “Rena, what is he?” Amelia stood in front of her mistress, ready to defend her at all costs.

  “He is legends told in both Kindred and Arisite, he is both Guardian and Demon, a demigod of our world ensuring good and evil are balanced within this plan of existence—Simon Rairdon, the defender of the realms,” Rena answered, her mouth gaped open, entranced at this being before her.

  “Good, you have heard of me, now let your lessons begin.” He announced disappearing behind them and sending them flying.

  __________

  Dawn had come, exhausted Anjou fell upon her mattress, holding tightly to her locket, she closed her eyes remembering her Lilith, dancing in the meadows, holding her close. A sudden scream echoed through the halls, waking her from her dream, her door opening suddenly as four Druids appeared in front of them Drake, his eyes filled with horror.

  “My queen, come quick,” he demanded, taking her hand and leading her towards the throne room. The chaos slowly creeping upon her as she burst through the throne room doors, stepping in a pool of wet red blood. She felt limp, her eyes filled with horror at the scene before her. Her husband, slain, kneeled over his black-grey hair dangling in front of his pale sunken face, his jaws hanging open in agony, blood spilling slowly from his mouth. The news spread throughout the kingdom. The king was dead.

  11

  ANJOU STARED QUIETLY at her husband’s corpse; her eyes analyzing every inch of the crime scene. Her lips were dry, her fangs piercing into her skin, the blood dripped down her porcelain skin. The throne was drenched in blood, the marble white floor now stained red. The lights began to dim. She kneeled beside her husband’s lifeless body, searching for any sign of life—nothing. The Druids circled around her, their guard on high alert. Footsteps echoed in the throne room as a slender man with ash blonde hair and orange eyes entered through, his crisp white jacket dragging across the floor. He pushed passed the guards giving his condolences to the queen.

  “My queen, my deepest condolences.” His eyes holding hers, as he kissed her hand. She nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Jacque Phantomhaven-Blackmond, I should have known they would have called upon you.” Anjou choked, feeling the tears sting behind her eyes.

  “I am my sisters protege, why would I not be here. Now, let me examine his body.” His voice soft, calm and assuring. He opened his black bag, taking out tools of mystery to the court. The slush sound of flesh being torn as he adjusted his spectacles. His mind focused, he motioned for a Druid. “Majesty, his heart, it’s gone.” He spoke, standing from the corpse.

  “What do you mean his heart is gone, Jacque?” Anjou coughed, her attention at the lifeless corpse of her late husband. Her pale skin turning ghostly, the bags under her eyes became more noticeable.

  “His heart was taken, I assume that is the cause of death. I will need to get him
to my lab, to examine the body closer.” Jacque sneered, rubbing his index finger and thumb together against his temple, taking a moment to gather blood samples of the crime. “Is that alright with your majesty?” He asked, confirming his hold on the evidence.

  “Yes, take anything that you may need to find any clues.” She agreed, taking up her sword and sending Druids and Zenopias out to patrol. “You three, come with me, and you two, go guard my grandson, we must assure that the royal children are safe,” Anjou commanded, the authority of her voice echoing off walls.

  “Majesty, should we send more Druids to watch over the Princess Morena?” A Druid asked, stepping forward in a perfect bow.

  “No, she will be safe with Lucille at her side, besides she is under Simons protection. She is the safest out of us all.” Anjou assured, leading the Druids out of the throne room and into the halls. The chaos grew more as each noble shoved passed one another to see the crime at hand.

  __________

  The room was pure white, the floors secured of white stone and doors matching the walls around Jacque, he tied his hair back. It smelled stale and metallic, the sanitation scent filled the room as he washed the corpse in front of him. His gloves secured on his hands, his sunset eyes focused on the mangled corpse now clean. The cuts and hole more potent and visible to his keen eye. He began to open the folds of skin, watching the black sludge drip to the ground—Urai. Jacque raised an eyebrow, curious on how the tar beast could enter the king’s body.

  “Well, how did you get here?” He smirked, capturing the creature in a clear vial, the small slug like monster squirmed its tar body. It began to push the vial, trying to escape as if being called.

  __________

  The sun was still high in the sky the clouds white, as the servants worked their fingers to the bone cleaning the blood stains from the throne room. Feeling the tension build within the nobles. Anjou tapped her fingers on the ivory case, walking back and forth, her nerves unraveling. She had dismissed her maids and blood slaves from her presence, locking herself away from the light, confused at how her husband could become a victim. Outside she heard the trumpets of the arrival of her son and new ally Alexander. Placing her black robes over her pale shoulders, she placed the black crystal necklace around her slender neck. Her clothing representing a sadness in the kingdom, the death of her husband sunk deeper into her thoughts. She arrived in front of her son, watching his expressions. The halls were dark, no lights except that of black flamed candles.

  “Mother, why are you dressed in mourning?” He asked, unsure of the commotion amongst the nobles.

  “We need to talk, something tragic has happened.” She replied, turning on her heels, leading him and Alexander towards the council chamber. She held her chin high, her cheekbones flushed, her eyes unmoving and cold, she sat down at the end of the table. “The king was found dead this morning.” She began, not lifting her eyes from her hands. “His heart was carved out and his face disassembled, you could not recognize it was him.”

  “Who is behind his death?” Sebastian asked, the calm in his voice masking his distress and anger.

  “We do not yet know; Jacque is investigating the body for any clues. The nobles believe it may have been his increasing madness.” Anjou answered, her eyes shifting to Alexander, watching his movements, his knuckles beneath his skin clenching tight. “However, it will not stop the Kingstrials, as well as crowning you King of Arisite.” She continued, the exhaustion seeping through her.

  “If you will excuse me mother, I am going to see the body myself.” Sebastian was cold, not waiting for an answer before he left the council room, leaving only Anjou and Alexander alone.

  “My condolences your highnesses.” Alexander finally spoke, placing his hands over hers and gently squeezing her pale knuckles.

  “Tis alright, I am tired anyhow, let my son and his wife take rule of these lands, I just hope they rule justly.” She sighed, her thumb circling her locket.

  “Do you really trust your son to rule these lands how you have wanted?” He asked, his eyes serious. “I remember being a boy in the Hollow king’s presence and seeing how you treated the people with kindness, it is part of my inspiration of ruling Kindred. I do not believe your son or his wife have that compassion. But, I believe I know who does.” He continued, watching her expressions change.

  “What do you mean Alex? Do you expect me to take my son’s throne and give it to Rena?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “You are able to still change the line of succession, and personally since my arrival the only Darkstorm suited for the throne is Morena. She has the people’s support, she is a just ruler, and her power incomparable.” He answered, a smile crossing his lips.

  “She is not ready to rule; I would not name her heir to my throne, even if I do agree that her rule would be just,” Anjou answered, watching the soulkeeper. Her fingers twitching against one another.

  “Very well, I do wish for your blessing when the time comes, after all I am to be your grandson soon.”

  “You speak highly of yourself, soulkeeper. You underestimate my kin.” She smirked, a flash of excitement crossing her eyes.

  Rena sat quietly sobbing in her room, her fingers tracing the music box, the final gift given to her from her late grandfather. She felt her heart sting, another death, of another loved one she held close to her heart.

  __________

  Month: Zukeut-15th—Year: 1511 AF

  It was the 15th day of Zukeut and the trials were about to begin, the sun was set and Grygori’s funeral had been large, but forgotten. The citizens distracted by the men that marched one by one debuting their strengths and abilities. Cheers echoed around, the men and woman filling with joy, a new betrothal awaits them perhaps it would mean a stronger alliance, better defenses, the gossips spreading like fire. The young vampyre men appeared in the shadow of night, each one more handsome than the next, the women swooned both noble and maid, poor or rich. They arrived from the corners of Arisite. Each one stopping at the foot of the fountain, gazing at the young princess for the first time. Among the candidates, Alexander stood, his smile blinding her.

  “Citizens Arisite. I, Morena Abigale Darkstorm, welcome these eligible young noble lords to compete in the Kingstrial for my hand in marriage,” she announced, her voice reverberating against the stone. Keeping her tone neutral, she skimmed over each competitor, Drake among them. She continued, stepping down from the fountain and approached each man.

  “Princess, I am Lord Cleander of house Solomere, cousin of the Grand Princess Victoria.” His yellow eyes met hers, his hair was darker, his face fuller, but his fangs much sharper than her stepmothers.

  “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance milord.” She smiled, stepping over the next, and then to the next, the introductions of vampyre lords she had not met intrigued her, how did they think and why were they not at court? Each one different, yet the same, unfamiliar and unkind. She could sense the hostility between the noble families, most knowing they will die while others thinking themselves too high to perish. Eight candidates and only one will survive the trials. Her eyes shot over to Alexander, his smile confident and warm.

  “Now, milords, it is time for the feast. Follow us back towards the palace.” Sebastian stepped up, his presence stronger than before, his attire fitting for a king. They made it to the banquet hall, the noblemen unimpressed by foreign relics and texts, some more interested in the loose women hanging on their arm and others not able to remove their eyes from their prize. The banquet hall was filled with the scent of vanilla wax and smoke, tickling the nose as the fresh goose was placed neatly in the middle.

  Sitting first, Sebastian and Victoria sat beside each other hand in hand, watching, Rena took her place amongst her suitors. She felt the air shift between Drake sitting to her right, his cologne overwhelming with cinnamon and apple. To her left, Alexander his eyes never leaving hers, gentle and caring. For a moment, Rena could not help but swoon, his eyes shifted a light green gloss
ing over his dark emerald colored eyes. She ignored it, taking a sip of her wine, the evening continued with haste, each candidate giving they’re thanks to the royal family as they prepared for the journey on foot.

  The sun was fully set, almost midnight as the crowds gathered around the starting point, the men standing straight in simple clothes as they stretched. Before the trials began, Alexander approached Rena, his smile warm.

  “Your Highness, if I may be so bold, would you honor me with your favor?” He asked, kneeling down, his head bowed to her. She felt her heart tighten, as her lips parted,

  “Of course, Majesty.” She replied, wrapping a small royal blue ribbon around his wrist. His fingers entwined with hers. Before he returned back to the starting line. The vampyre lords scoffed, their glares and hatred focused on a singular target.

  Stepping in front of them, Sebastian stood tall, the authority in his voice silencing the crowd. “Lords and ladies, let us mark this day of the first day in the trial of kings. The man who wins each and every challenge with their life, wins the hand of my only daughter. You have three days to complete the travels to Aieulle and return alive to Casai.” He watched, each man restless and filled with ambition. And with a wave of his hand, the trials began. Rena watched with anticipation, allowing her heart to hope, that perhaps he will win.

  “You seem to have taken a liking to Alexander, my daughter.” Her father’s voice sent a chill down her spine.

  “I just think he is the kindest and most interesting amongst the suitors, papa.” She replied, her eyes still focused on the dust in the sky, the trails of the men gone.

  “Indeed, he seems to be smitten with you as well. Tell me true, have you consorted with him?” He asked, his hand placed gently on her shoulder.