“I hereby announce a duel of execution between the High Prince Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus of the House of Rixa and the Earl Aldred of the House of Acca. The rules of this duel are simple. No man-made weapons may be held or used by either warrior. You both must fight until the death. I will conjure a force field to keep you in place until one of you breathes your last. Are these terms understood?”
“Completely,” says Lincoln. He takes his baculum from his belt and tosses them aside. I really hate to see that happen.
Aldred shrugs, and something in the movement sets my teeth on edge. “I have no weapons to disarm.”
The Arbiter lifts her arms. “May the battle begin!”
Suddenly, a box of what looks like glass forms around Lincoln and Aldred, only it’s not glass. It’s really a magical force field that’s keeping them in place.
A force field. I know the Arbiter mentioned it before, but I don’t like seeing this in action. There’s no way for me to step in if things get ugly.
Lincoln and Aldred pace in a circle as they size each other up. I cross my fingers.
Please let Aldred do something stupid.
And sure enough, that’s what he does.
Aldred rushes straight for Lincoln. The Earl of Acca hunches forward, his arms folded across his chest. Clearly, he wants to jam his shoulder into Lincoln’s stomach. It’s a classic move, if you’re a human linebacker. For a thrax warrior, it’s not so good.
Lincoln sees the move coming a mile away. He allows Aldred to barely touch him before dodging the bulk of the attack. Aldred’s momentum keeps him running forward until he slams into the invisible force field. Unfortunately, he picks the stretch of wall right by me. That’s when I see it.
Aldred is holding a weapon in his hand. Only it’s not man made.
The wasp’s stinger.
Somehow, Aldred picked up the stinger that I ripped out of Lady Daria. That thing is freaking poisoned.
“Watch out!” I pound on the clear barrier with my fists. “He got the stinger!”
Aldred catches my eye and grins again, the bastard. When he speaks, his voice is a low grumble. “Once I kill him, I’m going after you.”
I keep pounding away because—screw it—I am out of my head right now. “I’ll fillet you! You’re going down!”
“Oh, my poor boy.” It’s Octavia. She stands on the other side of the force field, staring in shock at her son.
Lincoln’s still hunched over and he’s gripping his belly.
Damn. Aldred must have gotten a good swipe in there. I pound away some more. “No!” I round on the Arbiter. “Stop this. Aldred cheated. He brought in a weapon.”
The Arbiter shakes her head. “The wasp’s stinger is not man made and is therefore allowable. There is nothing I can do. Continue with the battle.” I’d take some comfort in the fact that she seems really bummed out, but damn. My fiancé is trapped beyond an impenetrable wall with a stinger-wielding psychopath.
Aldred struts toward Lincoln. “All this time, I’ve had to put up with you and your damned family.” He tosses the stinger from hand to hand. “Now, I have you just where I want you.”
Lincoln crouches lower. A moan escapes his lips. I scream my head off. Lincoln never moans. He could have his arm chopped off and the guy wouldn’t even whine. What did that stinger do to him? I can’t even imagine the ugly-ass poison that Lady Daria conjured.
Aldred pauses above Lincoln’s curled-up form. He raises the stinger high above his head. “Now, I take my revenge!”
Fast as a heartbeat, Lincoln leaps up. His movements are so fast, I can see nothing except a blur. Within seconds, Lincoln has gotten Aldred to drop the stinger. Next, Lincoln moves behind Aldred and wraps his arm around the Earl’s throat. “Think I didn’t see you pick up that little stinger?” Lincoln’s voice is low, but I can hear it clearly.
Aldred’s face turns red as he claws at Lincoln’s arm. My guy isn’t giving him any air. I pound on the invisible wall again, only this time with relief. “Yes!”
“As you die, think on this,” continues Lincoln. “I have a list of every noble and thane in the House of Acca, and I’ve already marked which ones go into exile. Your legacy of corruption and greed dies with you.”
Aldred’s movements turn weaker. His eyes roll into his head. Lincoln lifts his free arm and sets his hand against the Earl’s chin. With one smooth movement, Lincoln’s flips Aldred’s head from side to side, snapping his neck.
Aldred’s dead.
Lincoln drops the body to the ground with a thud. The entire courtroom turns deadly quiet. Lincoln straightens his stance and turns to address the Arbiter.
“I am the High Prince Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, and I have won this battle.”
I smile my face off. Lincoln won.
“So seen and acknowledged,” calls the Arbiter.
With that, the courtroom’s configuration transforms back into how it was before the duel. The stage rises up once more. The Arbiter’s throne lowers until she’s seated back in her original place. The invisible force field around Lincoln disappears. I rush into his arms and kiss his face all over, just because I can.
“You knew he stole that damned stinger.”
“I told you I had a plan.”
“That was an awesome one, too.” I lean my forehead against his. “Only, you know, never ever do anything like that ever again.”
More happy wedding guests come forward to congratulate Lincoln and me. I count my parents, Octavia, Cissy, and Walker. Almost everyone we know troops by, but it’s mostly a blur.
Except for Connor.
Throughout this whole scene, Connor has been kneeling by Aldred’s side. “What have I done?”
Lincoln takes my hand in his. Together, we approach his father. “What have you done?” asks Lincoln. “Nothing.”
I want to add in the “as usual,” but I think it’s overkill. Lincoln’s tone really says it all this time.
Lincoln turns to the crowd. “The excitement is over. You all need to return to your homes.”
The Arbiter stands. “Not quite.”
A chill runs up my spine. Now, this is a total shocker. I didn’t know the Arbiter’s butt ever actually left her chair. I scan the faces in the crowd. Everyone else seems similarly impressed.
“I have another judgment to make.”
Connor rises. “No, the case is over.”
I grit my teeth. Nice. Back-talking the Arbiter. Like that’s going to help.
My parents step forward. Mom has her shit-kicking face on, and Dad looks ready to blow the place up with angelfire. I’m a lucky girl.
My father addresses the crowd. “I’ve seen Antrum from the day the Almighty carved it from the Earth. The Arbiter can rule on whatever she deems worthy.” Dad’s eyes glow angel blue with power. He can be such a badass sometimes. “What is your ruling?”
“Based on all the evidence I have seen, Prince Lincoln and the Great Scala Myla Lewis are the true royal couple of Antrum. For all our safety, I decree they must be crowned so tonight.”
The words reverberate around the room. I wait for everyone to freak out. They don’t. Octavia looks resigned. Connor shivers from head to toe. But the thrax? They seem relieved.
Wow. I thought they hated my guts.
In a surprise move, Connor steps forward to counter my father. “We have the angel Verus here for the wedding ceremony. Who’ll do their coronation? Because I certainly won’t.” He looks pleadingly toward Lincoln. “With all due respect, son. You’re simply not ready.”
The Arbiter steps away from her chair. “In that case, I shall be the one to complete the coronation.”
Another stunned silence fills the room as the Arbiter walks to the end of the stage. I speak to Lincoln from the corner of my mouth. “Does she ever leave that chair?”
“Not that I’ve heard of.”
“Huh.”
Once the Arbiter reaches the stage’s edge, she raises her arms. “Let us cheer our new King and Qu
een to be, Lincoln and Myla.”
After that, there’s a pause that goes on for like a millennium, minimum. I’m not sure if the crowd is excited or ready to rush off and find some pitchforks, torches, and a noose or two. I’m not going to lie here. I definitely have some deer-in-the-headlights action going on. This is where Lincoln’s years of statecraft experience comes in handy. He sets his hand on the small of my back, guiding us both to face the crowd. Gripping my hand, he raises our joined fists high in the air.
“To the coronation!” he cries. Like me, Lincoln may be wondering if we’re going to end up skewered on pitchforks. Unlike me, he doesn’t show it at all. That’s another thing on my list-o-stuff to learn. Statecraft, which seems to be directly related to my whole “need to learn more about lying” thing.
A rousing cheer echoes throughout the room. I’m pretty sure I hear some people shout “Huzzah.” The crowd rushes around us. A kaleidoscope of thrax faces moves past Lincoln and me, all of them saying similar things.
“Aldred was blackmailing us.”
“We had no choice.”
“Thank the Almighty you’ll be King and Queen.”
All this love gives me an idea. I wave to the Arbiter. “Hey, there.”
The Arbiter focuses on Lincoln and I. The room falls silent again. “What is it you require?”
“We have a list of those loyal to Acca. They’re all to be exiled. Only, you know, they can take their wedding gifts with them if they want.” Hey, I can be gracious.
Lincoln pulls Cissy’s list from the folds of his tunic and hands it over to the Arbiter.
For a long minute, the Arbiter scans the sheet. Her face returns to looking unreadable again. I start to wonder if I’ve pushed my luck too hard.
At last she lowers the sheet to address the room once more. “I agree as well.”
I raise my fist. “Yes!”
The Arbiter all-out smiles. It’s a good look on her. “Let’s get you wed and crowned. This is one party I shall not miss.”
Wedding and coronation? Yes, please. Not that I’m real Queen material, but I want whatever gets us out of this crazy cycle between Aldred and Connor. The Arbiter’s plan sounds like a winner.
Lincoln and I waste no time proceeding out of the courtroom. Behind us, there follows the Arbiter and our families. Everyone looks jubilant except for Connor, who is predictably mopey.
Meh. He’ll get over it.
Besides, there’s too much of a genuine happy vibe in the air to let Connor get me down. Now this is what I was missing before the wedding started the first time. At this point, my heart feels so light, it’s like I could fly up to Heaven.
I turn to Lincoln and grin. “Let’s do this.”
30
Once again, I stand in the stone corridor that leads to the Chapel. I still want to call it an arena, but whatever. It’s not like I’ll be hanging out in this place for long. It feels like a flock of demonic butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach, and not in a bad way. I am part demon myself, after all.
Dad looks me over and grins. “You look stunning.”
I glance over my gown. There are now a few green goo stains from skewering Drusus. I like them. They say “warrior bride” to me.
Dad’s mouth winds into that million-watt grin. “I have a surprise for you. There wasn’t time to tell you about it before.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“I brought in the Heavenly choir. They were going to sing along with Pachelbel’s Canon as a surprise. However, in light of things, I thought you might want a change of tune.”
“They’ll sing whatever I choose?”
“Certainly.”
At this point, only one song will do. “No question. ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ by the Rolling Stones…Or would be the angels be insulted with that?”
“Are you kidding? Do you know how many human rock stars made it to Heaven?”
“Not really.”
“More than you’d expect. Normally, they have no one to perform for. This request will make their eternity.” Dad’s eyes light up angel blue. “Excuse me. One minute and I’ll get them set up.”
As Dad steps off into the darkness of the corridor, Cissy approaches me. Her bouquet of white flowers is now a squished-up mess. She lifts what’s left of the blooms. “Sorry about this. It got stomped on a bit in the commotion.”
“Meh. I like it better that way. It’s more me, really.”
“I should have known.” Cissy leans back, eyeing me from head to toe. “You’re going down the aisle with some demonic goo on your dress.”
I grin from ear to ear. “Awesome, right?”
“Only you, Myla.”
“Fucking A.”
Cis wraps me in a huge hug. “I’m so glad to be here. No one deserves a happily ever after more than you and Lincoln.”
“Not sure a happily ever after is in the cards for us.”
Cissy’s mouth pops open. “You don’t mean that.”
“Sure, I do. ‘Happily ever after’ is a whole lot of boring, if you ask me. Whatever happens next for my guy and me, one thing’s for sure. It’ll be exciting.”
All of a sudden, the voices of the heavenly choir start to echo into the corridor. I peep into the Chapel. All the angels stand along the walls, their white robes gleaming bright.
“I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man
No, you can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you find
You get what you need”
Cissy listens intently. Her mouth is all screwed up, which is her “I can’t believe what I’m hearing” face. “You didn’t ask them to sing that.”
“Hells yes, I did.” Cissy is so easy to shock it’s awesome. I bob my eyebrows up and down. “Kick ass, am I right?”
Cissy bursts out laughing. The mood in the hallway turns downright sunny and awesome. “Absolutely.”
Dad reenters the corridor. “That’s our cue.” He offers me his elbow.
I wrap my hand around his upper arm. “Let’s go.”
Dad pauses and gives me a meaningful look. That’s his mischievous face, right there. I can tell because he’s arched his right brow. “In case you’re wondering, I have some pretty neat dance moves.”
My mouth falls open. “You do not.” He’s not going to dance down the aisle at my wedding, is he?
In reply, Dad starts working his hips. Despite the fact that he’s my father, I have to admit that he’s pretty smooth dancer. And that’s no small feat either, considering the man is still wearing golden armor. It’s beyond cool.
“I take it back.” I start swishing from side to side as well. “Let’s sashay this thing.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
The music breaks out into a rock-and-roll solo with the band. How they got their instruments here so quickly is anybody’s guess. Mostly, I suspect it has something to do with my father and his archangel powers. Another item to add later to my Dad journal: Zaps in rock band equipment at a moment’s notice.
Dad and I start to stroll-dance our way down the aisle as the refrain rises and the band goes nuts. I’m pretty sure it’s Hendrix who’s working a mean guitar solo as we close in on the stage.
Lincoln stands at the opposite side of the aisle. Damn, does he ever look yummy. His velvet tunic is torn a bit at the shoulder, and he’s sporting some evil demonic goop, too.
He looks like a warrior.
He looks like mine.
As we shimmy closer, Lincoln starts swaying from side to side as well. That’s when the crowd gets into the scene. Of course, they’re a lot of thrax, so it’s not like they’re jumping up and down. Still, there’s some basic twist moves and lots of smiles. The quasis rock down pretty wel
l. It feels silly, spontaneous, and all-around awesome.
As I get close in on the stage, Lincoln’s gaze locks with mine. His hips keep swaying in time to the music because really, how can you not? He eyes me from head to toe and gives me one of his double-dimple smiles. Those just slay me. My knees go a little wobbly as Dad guides me to the end of the aisle.
Lincoln grips my hand. Pure joy softens the chiseled lines of his face. He’s even working a bit of scruff now. I like it.
“You look beautiful.”
I run my fingers along the tear in his shoulder. “So do you, Mister The King.”
“Future King. First, I need my Queen.” He wraps my hand around his arm, and together, we walk to the stage where Verus and the Arbiter look down upon us. Both are in white robes, only the Arbiter is white everything, including her eyes, hair, and skin. Beside her, Verus has long black hair, almond-shaped eyes and her full wings on display. She even wears her crown of office, which is huge, gold, and looks fabulous on her.
The crowd quiets, and my heart starts beating with such force, I think it might break free from my rib rage. Lincoln rubs soothing circles on my wrist with his thumb. It helps.
Verus is the first to speak. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” She sighs. “I had a formal speech planned out for this occasion.”
Lincoln and I share a sly look. Verus is a bit of an unknown commodity. She was the one who engineered the two of us getting together in the first place. She’s an Oracle angel—by all accounts, the last one left—and she never gives the reasons why she makes certain things come to pass.
In this case, I’m glad she stuck her nose into my love life. That said, there’s no rush for her to start spouting off fresh prophecies and plans.
“Some of you may not know this,” continues Verus. “But I had a vision of the future that required Lincoln and Myla to wed, and if you don’t mind my saying so, have children as soon as possible.”
Acca Page 29
