The Kingmaker Complete Trilogy (The Kingmaker Trilogy #1-3)

by Gemma Perfect

  “Everleigh,” Ceryn calls her again and this time when she looks up relief clouds her face, seeing what Ceryn has done.

  “Thank you,” she whispers the words and Ceryn smiles. Everleigh gets up and walks over to her friend. Her dead friend. Her face crumples and she kneels beside her, tears spilling freely.

  Ceryn

  I LEAVE HER KNEELING by Lanorie’s side and tramp through the grass looking for flowers, thinking that might make her look less dead. Not something I normally do, pick flowers, but then life has changed these last few days.

  And flowers will make burning her a bit less grisly I guess.

  I sit on the grass, feeling my backside get damp and start making a pile of flowers. I don’t know the difference between a flower or a weed really, so I just pick all of them.

  I watch Everleigh crying over her friend and I think about Archer.

  I was so in love with him. He was everything.

  I miss him.

  I am glad we came looking for him. I like this new group of people. Finn is quiet, but easy on the eye. Like all good men should be. I laugh at myself then – like I know anything about men.

  Men have been worse than women about my mark. Those three men that beat me and left me for dead didn’t make allowances for my gender. Not that I’m very feminine. But the fact that they were three big men attacking a young girl never crossed their minds, I bet.

  I hate girly things. They make me feel weak. Boyish things feel like a shell around me, an armour. I wear my mask and I wear boy’s clothes like another disguise. I have a pretty boyish shape, I go straight up and down and I’m often mistaken for a boy. I never correct anyone.

  So, then what would a boy or a man ever see in me?

  I shake my head. I don’t want to think about love and how I probably won’t ever find it. I think about Finn’s older sister instead. Della. She makes me feel happy. She’s a hostess. She’s a mother. Even though she’s not. She wants everyone to be happy.

  And she loves fussing over us all. It’s strange for me to let myself be fussed, but she does that to me.

  Addyson. I feel proud to have made a connection with her. Another thing I don’t do. Weaver calls me prickly. Archer used to call me a little cow. I don’t like a lot of people. I don’t even feel bad for that. What have people ever done for me? Most people? Abandoned me, hurt me, attacked me, judged me.

  But then what do I do now? Attack people, judge people. I guess I have become what I hate in other people. Strange.

  I sneak another glance at Everleigh and Lanorie. Everleigh is sitting up, holding Lanorie’s dead hand. I wipe away a tear. I think about Everleigh. I wanted to hate her so much. She had taken Archer from us. Actually, more than hate her, I wanted to hurt her. Pull her hair, scratch her face, gouge at her skin.

  But there’s something about her. She instils something in me. I want to help her, love her, serve her. Be great for her. I want to get her on her throne, help her seize the crown from her mad brother.

  I picture him murdering Lanorie again. The way he shouted, his temper obviously rising. The way he whipped out his sword. The way he killed her so casually, like she didn’t matter.

  But then she didn’t matter to him.

  If you’re in charge you can do as you please. And he obviously does.

  And yet I know Everleigh will be a good Queen, a kind Queen.

  She will have the whole Realm vying to please her through love not fear. Her brother is already ruling through fear and not love. I’m glad I hit him. I’m a bloody good shot. And that’s me a bit rusty.

  I will pledge my allegiance to this Queen and tell her that if she cannot kill her brother herself, I will happily do it for her.

  I gather my pile of flowers. Weeds.

  I head back over to Everleigh, making plenty of noise to snap her out of her reverie.

  She smiles up at me and I know I’m right. I will fight for this Queen. Help her win her throne. I don’t even know why, really. It’s nothing I can put my finger on.

  “Oh.” Suddenly she’s crying again. “I didn’t bring anything to light a fire.”

  I sit beside her, keeping my gaze away from Lanorie. “Your magic.”

  “I’ve never made fire.”

  “I bet you can.”

  I lay the flowers all around Lanorie and then sit back, giving Everleigh the time and space to do what she needs to. She closes her eyes, and she’s still crying, tears slowly trailing along her cheek.

  When she opens them she stares at the flower in Lanorie’s hand. She stares and stares, muttering under her breath.

  I watch, fascinated.

  After a minute or two, not long really, I see a hiss of smoke rise from a flower, just a wisp at first, then a little more, then a spark and then a tiny flame.

  She watches the flames and they grow. She mutters and nods, turning her head this way and that and the flames spread. Once several flowers in a row are ablaze she kisses Lanorie’s forehead and whispers goodbye.

  26

  THE MOOD IN THE COTTAGES is worse than sombre. Everleigh is sitting, holding hands with Addyson, and they are both crying. Weaver has gone out for a walk and taken Finn with him. They are patrolling really, making sure there’s no sign of any more trouble. They are all confident that Lanorie kept Everleigh’s location a secret but they don’t want to relax and become complacent.

  Della and Ceryn are sitting in the two chairs, silently watching the two sisters grieve. There’s not anything that anyone can say to help, so they don’t even try.

  Now they are all quietly waiting for what happens next.

  GINATA IS PACING THE length of her rooms, repeating Millard’s evil crimes to herself. “He sat by while his brother killed their father, while his brother tried to kill his sister. He killed his brother. He killed Halfreda. He killed Archer. He killed Lanorie.”

  It’s not that she needs convincing so much as reminding. Millard’s kiss came completely out of the blue; it wasn’t something she was expecting or hoping for.

  She knows he is handsome but she also knows he’s a murderer. There has never been a second where she contemplated anything happening with him and she isn’t about to start now. It was disconcerting, though, feeling warm, soft lips on hers and having to remind herself whose lips they were; an evil, murdering madman.

  She leaves her rooms in a rush. She’ll find Will, make a plan for tonight. They need to see Everleigh. They need to tell her what’s happened to Lanorie. They need to all be together, taking strength from each other; reminding each other why they are even fighting this battle.

  She wonders briefly whether, despite the prophecy, it’s all worth it.

  Making Everleigh Queen, living through all this upset and drama.

  And yet within a few days it will all be over. Everleigh will be Queen. Millard will be locked away. Dead. It won’t be her call to make.

  Will is lying on his bed and when he sees her he shifts over to make room for her. They lay next to each other, looking at the ceiling, crying.

  How many times have they cried this last week?

  “Do you know, she never looked twice at me. I don’t know if she even knew I liked her. Loved her. She was so perfect. So lovely. Funny. Kind. The way her hair fell, so prettily. Her eyes, her smile. She had a lovely smile.”

  Ginata lets him talk.

  “I didn’t think she’d ever love me. Even if she knew I loved her. I’m just a fool.”

  “You’re not though. You are one of the wisest people I know. One day someone will see past the fool thing.”

  “Maybe. Probably not.”

  “What made you love her? How did you know?”

  “I just loved her. She didn’t say or do anything except be herself. I just fell in love. She’s perfect. She was perfect.”

  “She did the bravest thing. She saved Everleigh and Addyson. She did two wonderful things.”

  “She was wonderful. I know she wasn’t perfect really. She told Everleigh’s secret. S
he could be selfish and silly and ditsy. But that’s love. You can’t help who you fall in love with. And maybe when two people are in love, if she had loved me, we would have made each other better. Like I wouldn’t have been so foolish and she wouldn’t have been so selfish, like we would have smoothed each other’s edges out.”

  Ginata’s mind flashes briefly onto Millard. Could she smooth out his edges? Why was she even thinking about him?

  Will squeezes her hand. “I miss Everleigh.”

  “I know. We’ll go tonight. It’s almost time for supper. Let’s eat, then when it’s night time proper, we’ll sneak off. Are you still being followed?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “There was no one outside when I got here.”

  They are silent then, each thinking their own thoughts, neither knowing what the other is thinking.

  The door slams open making them both jump. Wolf and Brett barge in.

  “Get up fool!” Brett says, grinning nastily.

  Will stands up, heart sinking, stomach twisting. Before Lanorie’s earlier capture, he had been hauled up in front of Millard to use as bait to bring Everleigh out of hiding. He was hoping that had been forgotten.

  “The King wants you.”

  “I can walk,” Will says as Wolf tries to take his arms. “I won’t run away.”

  Ginata goes to Will’s side. “Will does whatever the King wants. You know what that’s like, Wolf.”

  Wolf doesn’t answer, but doesn’t make a move to manhandle Will.

  Ginata holds Will’s hand but stays silent, and they head to the King’s rooms.

  “Will!” Millard’s voice is loud and full of bonhomie; it hits both Will and Ginata that he has forgotten all about killing Lanorie. Or just doesn’t care.

  It also hits Ginata that he has forgotten all about their kiss. Or just doesn’t care.

  Either is as likely.

  “I apologise again, my fool, but without the handmaiden I need to draw Everleigh out. I need you.”

  Will nods and bows low. “My King. I am happy to assist, but I fear...” He cannot finish his sentence; he doesn’t want to give Millard any ideas, though he has plenty of despicable ones of his own.

  “You fear what? Me?” Millard moves closer to Will, just inches between their noses. His voice has that dangerously nonchalant, high pitched, innocent edge to it and Will feels his toes curl under, helping to balance him, making sure he doesn’t sway or fall.

  “My King. I understand your position and you must do what you must do.”

  Millard grins and steps backwards. “Not so foolish after all. Wolf. Brett. Take him to the tower and we’ll put word out tomorrow to all of the villages in the Realm; the fool will be hanged unless my sister comes forward.”

  The two rush forward and take an arm each, carting Will away.

  Millard nods as he watches them go. He smiles at Ginata. “Do you think I’m terrible? A monster?”

  “My King. You’re King. How can I judge?”

  Millard walks towards her, a sweet smile on his face; the way he changes personality so often and so completely are baffling. He is so dangerous.

  “I have to say, Ginata, I had my doubts about you, you helped Halfreda and Halfreda helped my sister, and so I thought...but I can see that you serve only me. You’re good for me and the castle.”

  “Thank you, my King.” Ginata takes a tiny step backwards, more of a shuffle than a step; she doesn’t want him to see her move. But as she squirms away from him, keeping a comely smile on her face, he leans in to her and she knows that while he is King she will never get away, if she even wants to.

  He swoops then, one arm around her waist, hand on her back, pulling her towards him. Her knees buckle, but not from desire or from fear but a strange and potent mixture of the two.

  His kiss is as warm and sweet as before. His body pressed against her is not unpleasant but the feeling in her heart is. Shame.

  Will is in the tower, Lanorie is dead and she is kissing the King.

  Ginata

  SHAME ON ME. BECAUSE as he kisses me, I don’t stop him and while I am afraid of him, I also kind of like it. I tell myself it is just the fear of upsetting someone who will kill me if I make him unhappy and my female brain being taken in by a handsome face, a good kiss and the power he wields.

  But the shame is real all the same; whatever I tell myself.

  And yet I can’t help but feel a little bit smug that I handle him so well. Like earlier, when I told him I couldn’t judge him because he’s King. It was the right thing to say and I always know the right thing to say to him. I know what makes him tick, know what will make him happy.

  If he was going to rule or even live past the weekend, it would be worth me cultivating that knowledge. Make him think I am in love with him, make him think my devotion goes further than King and wise woman, that I feel real affection for him. It would be a handy game to play.

  But there are mere days left. And I am glad. Once Everleigh is Queen I won’t have to acknowledge what Millard and I have done.

  I’ll go to Everleigh tonight, tell her about Lanorie. Her heart will break. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news. She will be hoping that she’s just missing, or lost, but to know that Millard has captured her and killed her will devastate her. So soon after Archer’s death as well. And now with Will being held prisoner, there’s two lots of bad news.

  We need to work out a plan to rescue Will. We’ve rescued Addyson and Lanorie so far, despite Lanorie’s additional capture and murder; we should be able to rescue Will, with Weaver and Ceryn around to help.

  I also must convince her to stay hidden. Millard’s hope is that she will come out of hiding to rescue Will. We cannot let her do that. The risk is too great.

  It’s all too much for me and I close my eyes and turn my vision inwards, focussing on myself. My lips feel warm, like Millard’s kiss has left an actual mark. My stomach though is in a twist of knots; how is murder suddenly so common place, the rescue of prisoners so regular?

  The change in my simple little life is dizzying.

  I wish I was at home, in my little cottage, sipping a brew with my lovely neighbours and waiting for my next customer. Instead I’m holed up in a castle full of intrigue, risks and death, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

  I like my life when I feel at peace with myself. I don’t feel peaceful anymore.

  My eyes are still shut and yet the tears sneak out from behind my closed eyelids.

  The past cannot be undone; how many customers have I had who wished it could be. I would help and counsel them, give them some potion or other, but ultimately the truth was that: what’s done is done.

  The old King is dead.

  Macsen is dead.

  Halfreda is dead.

  Archer is dead.

  Lanorie is dead.

  Will can’t be next.

  I will sit through supper with the King and his horrific henchman, Wolf, and when I go to Everleigh, after dark, I will take some potions – some tonics – to lift spirits and calm worried hearts.

  Everleigh will be beside herself; they all will.

  I feel bad again. And yet, they know I am showing fealty to Millard now. It can hardly be my fault if that fealty involves a little kissing. It certainly wasn’t my tactic.

  I busy myself in my work room, finding potions, some herbs to throw on the fire, a lotion to massage into the temples before sleep.

  I cannot believe Lanorie is dead and yet this world I find myself in now holds no time for grieving, no let up. We are in the middle of a war against this mad King and we must stay alert, ready for the next battle.

  And now this new battle. We cannot save Lanorie, but we must save Will.

  And I must save myself.

  27

  GINATA MAKES IT THROUGH supper, smiling at Millard and ignoring Wolf. She excuses herself from the dancing and the singers and goes to her rooms. She paces, sits, paces, sits, paces and sits. She is worrying about
Will, alone in the tower and she is worried about herself.

  Eventually she lights a fire, kneels in front of it and stares in to the flames. Can she read anything there? Any help? Will Everleigh rule after Saturday? Will Millard die?

  She is a good person, she helps people. She is only in this mess because she wanted to help Halfreda who wanted to help Everleigh.

  What does she want?

  The flames lick higher and her vision blurs, the heat makes her woozy as she tries to see Everleigh with the crown, tries to see what will happen next. She didn’t see Lanorie’s death; why can’t she see anything?

  She knows why. Her mind is in such turmoil that she cannot harness her powers, her sight. She needs peace and calm and she does not have it. She may never have it again.

  The flames reveal nothing.

  And she knew they wouldn’t.

  Maybe they never will again.

  Maybe she will help to crown Everleigh and then run away where her shame cannot reach her.

  Or maybe she will spend the whole of Everleigh’s reign making it up to her. Helping her, guiding her, steering her right.

  Maybe she will run away with Millard and save everyone the bother of killing him.

  She buries her head in her hands and groans.

  WILL IS SITTING ON the floor and wondering if he is in the same prison cell as Lanorie was. She must have been so frightened. He is frightened. He doesn’t want to admit it, but really it doesn’t matter if he does; there is no one here to tell. He is alone.

  He doesn’t like being alone.

  He thinks back over his life. It hasn’t been very long and he was hoping it would go on for many more years, but now he has to accept the possibility of his death. Not an easy thing for anyone to do.

  So many people have died in the last week. Will he be next?

  There are only three people that he will miss and one of them is already dead. He chokes back a sob as he thinks the word.