Seize the Crown

by Gemma Perfect

She does contain herself, like I asked her to, and she doesn’t hurt Everleigh, but she screams in her face. “I HATE YOU!”

  Everleigh stumbles backwards slightly, and Finn puts a hand on her back to steady her. Her face turns white and tears spring to her eyes. We are all living under such tension and stress now, it only takes those three words for her to fall apart. She stifles a sob with her hand but then she shakes her head. Instead of crumbling into sorrow like she did the day after the coronation she quickly works herself into a fury.

  17

  THROUGH A HAZE OF TEARS Everleigh shouts at the masked woman. “Who are you? What have I ever done to you? How dare you come here and shout at me?”

  “You killed Archer.”

  “What? I loved Archer. I would never have hurt him.”

  “But you did. He died for you.”

  “That was his choice.”

  “You shouldn’t have let him.”

  “I couldn’t have stopped him.”

  “You weren’t worth it. He’s dead because of you.”

  “How do you know I’m not worth it? Who are you? Who are you to tell me anything?”

  “His friend.” Ceryn points at herself.

  “His Queen.” Everleigh points at herself.

  “I loved him.”

  “So did I. And I would never have asked him to die. I would never ask anyone. I don’t ask for subjects. I don’t ask to be Queen. Or Kingmaker. I was ready to die before all of this.”

  “I wish you had!”

  “I wish I had too!”

  The two girls stand opposite each other, faces angry, fists curled, tears coursing down their cheeks, breathing laboured.

  “Everleigh!” Addyson has moved from Della and the flowers to her sister’s side, a pained look on her face. “You’re all I’ve got left. You can’t wish for death. Not ever.”

  “I just can’t stand being blamed for this.” She faces Ceryn again. “I would never have hurt Archer. I didn’t know him anywhere near as long as you, but I loved him.”

  “I miss him.”

  “I miss him, too.” Everleigh reaches out a hand towards her.

  “I...can’t-” Ceryn turns abruptly and runs away from them all. She reaches the end of the pathway and turns towards the river. Weaver puts his hands up, an apology, and turns to follow her.

  “Wait!” It’s Addyson. “Let me talk to her, please?”

  Weaver hesitates, but then nods slowly. He looks at Everleigh, “I’m sorry. When you are Queen, please don’t punish her. She’s just hot headed. She was in love with Archer. Not that he ever knew it. And we rode this whole way to see him; we had no idea he was dead.”

  “I’m so sorry. It must have been an awful shock. I won’t punish her; I’d never do that.”

  “You’re too nice.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll get some ale,” Della says, smoothing her hands on her apron, rubbing away the awkward atmosphere. “Maybe you’ll join us for a cup?”

  Weaver nods and they troop inside the cottage.

  Ceryn runs until it hurts and then stops, dropping to her knees and then onto her side, curled up like a baby. She’s crying again. Will she ever stop? Will she ever get over this hurt? She can feel Archer’s absence and it’s a physical split, a rip, a tear through her heart.

  Maybe she doesn’t want it to stop. Maybe she can wallow in this hurt, this pain. Maybe she can make it worse, make it more, add to it.

  Maybe she will just slit her wrists right here and let the blood and the upset drain from her body.

  Someone walks softly towards her; she hopes it’s not Everleigh. She cannot bear to see her face.

  “Hey.”

  Ceryn looks up. It’s not Everleigh, it’s her sister, Addyson.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m sorry about Archer.”

  “Me too.” They are silent and Ceryn cries.

  “What’s your name?”

  She sniffs. “Ceryn.”

  “That’s pretty.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s up with the mask?”

  Ceryn sits up, looks at Addyson and shakes her head. “Why would you ask? No one ever asks.”

  “I’m young. Adults are polite. Children aren’t.”

  “You’re a curious one.”

  “I am. I’ve been stared at my whole life. People whisper about me. Talk about me. Draw back from me. You can’t see my curse, though.”

  “Well, you can see mine.”

  “It’s covered though. Show me?”

  Ceryn laughs, shaking her head. Why is she even having a conversation with this princess? Why isn’t she far away on her horse, crying over Archer’s death with Weaver?

  “I’m not scared of you.”

  “You would be if you saw it.”

  “Why?”

  “You just would. My whole life people have been afraid of me because of it. Hurt me. Ridiculed me. Hated me. You might think you want to see but you would hate it. Hate me for showing you.”

  “My whole life – not that I’m as old as you – people have done the same to me. And I have no visible mark to speak of. They hate me because someone else told them to. They are frightened because of stories and rumours. Please.”

  Ceryn shakes her head and sits with her knees pulled up to her chest. She ignores Addyson and cries quietly.

  Addyson touches her arm. “Please.”

  Ceryn looks at her. Just a little princess with no fear on her face, just curiosity. She reaches up and touches the leather swatch. She closes her eyes. Then she pulls at the ties and slips it off.

  Addyson takes care not to gasp. She hasn’t ever seen anyone with a mark like it. It’s like blood has been spilled all over the left side of Ceryn’s face, across her forehead, her cheek, her nose and down her neck. It looks angry and sore. “Does it hurt?”

  Ceryn shakes her head and opens her eyes.

  Addyson reaches out a hand, but Ceryn takes hold of her wrist. “Don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve nothing to prove.”

  “I’ve everything to prove. People hate me because of my curse. People hate you because of this...mark.”

  “The devil’s mark. That’s what they call it.”

  “It’s just colour. Like you’ve been painted.”

  Ceryn snorts. “Badly.”

  Addyson reaches out and runs her fingers across the mark before Ceryn can stop her. “I’m not scared. I don’t hate it or hate you.”

  Ceryn can’t help but sob. She sniffs it back. “Really?”

  Addyson nods.

  “Thank you.”

  “Come back to the cottage?”

  Ceryn nods and stands up slowly, pulling Addyson up with her. She ties her mask back on and they walk back together in a strange, companionable sort of silence and when they come through the cottage door Everleigh jumps up and offers Ceryn her seat.

  “You’re too nice.” She takes the seat though, and the ale that she’s offered. “I can’t kill the King, but I can do something. Let me do something to help your cause, before we head home.”

  “There’s no need. I know you need to grieve.”

  “Stay tonight,” Della says. “Then go home tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. But only if you give me something to do. Weaver and I are handy with swords. Let us help. For Archer.”

  Addyson sits on the floor at Ceryn’s feet, smiling at Della and smiling at Everleigh. “I’ve got an idea...”

  Ceryn

  THE CURSED PRINCESS has a cheeky look on her face and I find myself grinning back at her. When I heard that Archer was dead I was sure I’d never smile again. She’s got to me. Quickly.

  So like me, but so different. People might hate her but they’d never hurt her. Never physically attack her. She’s been lucky. And yet I like her.

  She’s got fight in her.

  Like me.

  I feel like fighting now. I can’t kill a King, even I’m not that reckless, but I can d
o something. Hurt someone.

  There’s a stubborn bit of me that wants to storm away again, make them all pay, sulk and whinge for a bit longer, but I can’t do it. I could, but I look at this little group and I don’t want to. I want to be good.

  “They could rescue Lanorie.”

  “Who’s Lanorie?” Weaver butts in, nodding at me, quietly checking that I’m alright. I was surprised he let the princess come after me, instead of coming himself, but now I am sitting here grinning and I realise why. He knows me best.

  “My handmaiden. She swapped places with Addyson, when she took her food. She rescued her.”

  “But now she’s stuck in the tower,” Ginata says.

  “If we swap someone else with her and my brother finds out, he’ll kill them”

  “Who guards her?” I ask. My brain, always battle-ready, trying to figure something out.

  “A guard at the bottom, outside, and one outside her room.”

  “Do you mind if they die?” I don’t mind a bit of blood shed but if this girl will be Queen, maybe she won’t like it.

  Everyone is silent but Everleigh looks up at me. “We tried to do it peacefully, but Millard was expecting it. I can’t see any other way.”

  “There’s probably not,” Weaver says. “If she’s locked up and you can’t swap her with anyone, we’ll have to kill them.”

  “But Millard told me that if the guard upstairs hears any problem downstairs he will kill Addyson, well, Lanorie.”

  I am trying to think this through, my eyes closed. One girl rescued from the tower, on the sly, another one left in her place. A mad King who will kill whoever is in the room if he goes there and it’s not his sister. Two guards.

  What would Archer do? The question comes unbidden. He was my moral compass, both him and Weaver, really. I choke back a sob. Am I grief stricken? Should we go home while we can? Back to our little village, to the people who need our help?

  I look around the room: my little friend, cursed like me, marked like me; an older woman who seems motherly to Addyson. The wise woman, Ginata. I like her a bit better now, but not massively. Weaver. And another man, no one has introduced us to, but he looks about our age, handsome and friendly, but quiet.

  And Everleigh. I should want to hurt her, cause her harm, rally against her for getting Archer killed, but I can’t.

  I don’t like a lot of women. Or a lot of people. A lot of people don’t like me. But I like this woman and I like her sister.

  I think she could be Queen. She has a way about her, something about her that makes me like her, trust her, want to help her.

  Is that what Archer saw in her? Why he wanted to help her?

  She’s not helpless or damsel in distress-ish, but she is vulnerable somehow. But strong. I wanted to hate her. But I find myself warming to her. I want to be on her team.

  We will do something here, something to help, like a legacy to Archer, and then we’ll go home.

  And if she gets her crown and her throne, we’ll raise a cup of ale, me and Weaver and remember how we helped her get there.

  I speak up. I feel a little bit sick at what I’m about to suggest but I do it anyway.

  “I’ve got an idea. What if I dress up as a handmaiden and take her some food? Once inside I’ll be able to kill or injure the door guard and, on the way out, I’ll be able to kill or injure the outside guard. Lanorie can follow me out. She’s not lame or anything?”

  Everleigh is smiling down at me as though I am the most wonderfully clever woman she has ever seen. I think she likes my idea.

  “Would you really do that for me? For Lanorie?”

  I nod. “Weaver can lurk around outside and step in if I need him to.”

  Weaver is nodding along. I know he’ll do what I want him to.

  There is one problem though. I reach up to my mask, Weaver puts a hand out to me as though he’d stop me, but I shake my head at him.

  “I’ll need some help, though. To cover this.”

  I let my mask fall and close my eyes so I cannot see the looks on the faces of the group that sits and stands gathered around me. Addyson’s hand slips into mine and I give it a squeeze.

  There is silence but I don’t mind that. No one screams or shouts or tries to shoo me out of the door.

  I give it a few seconds and then I open my eyes.

  Instead of disgust and fear, I see sympathy and kindness on these faces and I feel glad that Archer came here, glad that we came here too and glad that we can do something to help.

  18

  GINATA IS THE FIRST to speak. “I know what they call your mark, but that’s not what it is.”

  Della nods and steps towards Ceryn, leaning down to hug her, enveloping her in the same non-judgemental love she’s been showing to Addyson. “There’s no devils in this world,” Della says, rubbing at the mark like she would smooth it away, happy to show Ceryn that she’s not scared.

  “People fear me.” Ceryn shrugs.

  “We don’t,” Finn says, smiling at her. “I’m Finn, by the way.”

  Ceryn smiles at him, blushing a little bit. “You’re not scared? Really?”

  Everybody nods. Everleigh pulls Ceryn to her feet and hugs her. “I know you can’t like me. I know what it’s like to love Archer, to lose him, but if you would help me, despite how cross you are with me, that shows who you are in your heart.”

  Weaver jumps up and claps Ceryn on the back. “See?” He is grinning like an idiot, pleased for his friend.

  Ceryn wipes at her tears, not able to look anyone in the eye. “My heart is angry. Always,” she says to Everleigh. “But I am happy to help. It’s what Archer would have done.”

  “What about the mark?” Addyson asks. “Can we cover it?”

  Ginata nods. “I think a paste would do it, a chalky, floury paste. It doesn’t have to last long.”

  “What if Millard is watching the kitchen, after the last time?”

  Finn explains for the benefit of Ceryn and Weaver: “Last night we asked one of the little maids to give the tower guards some ale, laced with a sleeping draught. We wanted to rescue Lanorie. But Millard was watching because the night before that, Everleigh tried to kill him, after drugging his guards with a sleeping draught.”

  Ceryn looks at Everleigh, respect and admiration in her eyes. “You tried to kill him?”

  “I had a knife to his throat. But he told me that if anyone found him dead, they’d kill Addyson. Of course, he didn’t know that Addyson was out of the tower and Lanorie was in, but I couldn’t let him kill Lanorie either. She’s looked after me since she was seven and I was nine.”

  “But he’s on alert. He’s also sent men out trying to find her. He’s desperate to lock her up, or kill her. He cannot stand her being out of his reach, plotting to take his crown.”

  “My crown,” Everleigh butts in.

  Finn laughs. “Sorry. Her crown.”

  Ceryn is nodding, as is Weaver. Their minds already trying to work this out. They love a fight, a battle, a war. “So, the little maids get Lanorie’s food from the kitchen and take it up to her?”

  Everyone but Weaver nods.

  “So, if the little maids have been in the tower, they know Addyson is gone?”

  Everyone but Ceryn nods.

  “So, then the cook must know that Addyson is gone and Lanorie has taken her place as well.”

  Again, everyone nods.

  “So, if we can get Ceryn into the kitchen, we can get the cook to help us, and then we can send Ceryn into the tower, dressed as a little maid with the food and her sword hidden in her skirts.”

  “Easy.” Ceryn sounds as though she means it.

  “I can’t be seen with you,” Ginata says. “Now, the King trusts me and thinks I’m on his side. We need that connection.”

  “What about Will?” Finn asks. “Will could take Ceryn into the kitchen. Millard’s men are watching him, but if we dress her a little differently before she goes back to the castle, no one will look twice at her.” />
  “Good idea. I’ll start making a paste, Addyson and Della can help me. Della, have you got flour? Any chalk?” They start talking amongst themselves, pondering the best way to cover Ceryn’s mark.

  Everleigh takes a seat and Ceryn sits next to her. Weaver and Finn wander outside, chatting about hunting and fishing.

  “I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you when I got here. I needed to attack someone.”

  “I understand. I was so angry at first, then heart broken, in a fog, you know. I can’t say anything to make it better, I’m sorry.”

  “Did you love him very much?”

  Everleigh nods, looking directly into Ceryn’s eyes. “He was easy to love. Did he know you loved him?”

  “No. I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t risk the rejection.”

  “I feel selfish, but I’m glad. I’m sorry, but if he had known about you, maybe he wouldn’t have had the space in his heart for me.”

  “I understand selfish. That’s why I wished you dead. Because you got to love him and have him love you too. You got what I wanted and I couldn’t stand to look at you, but...”

  “What?”

  “I haven’t had an easy life, with my mark, I’ve had to be hard-faced, hard-hearted. I can feel a real pain that Archer’s dead, but I have spent years hiding my feelings, determined to be strong. I can’t crumble like a little girl. I can’t faint or die. I just have to keep on fighting. Archer loved me as a friend, at least, and that’s one of the things he loved about me. I’m not a soppy girl, I’m a fierce one.”

  “You are. I can’t believe you’ve offered to rescue Lanorie. You don’t even know her. That’s so brave.”

  “You trying to kill your brother was brave.”

  “Or stupid.”

  “Not stupid. Brave. I’m starting to see why Archer liked you.”

  “I can see why he liked you. You are a bit scary, but you have a good heart. It’s good for my sister to see.”

  “I know about her curse. Is it really that bad though? No one can see it...”

  “True. And I can’t imagine what your life’s been like, having to hide your face away, your lovely face. But Addyson has a different kind of mark on her. It’s not visible but it’s always there. Everyone knows. I don’t know how she’ll thrive in this Realm, but I love that she’s got a role model like you now.”