Renegade Queen : A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 3)

by R. J. Vickers

  Now I would never have the chance to thank him properly. Though my eyes stung, no tears came. I was too numb to cry.

  “How?” I choked out at last.

  “When we made it to the waterfront, we were surrounded. We had gathered a few supporters along the way, but they had never fought before. It was down to the two of us. I think it was Quendon’s knee that betrayed him in the end.” Mellicante’s voice wavered. “The walk around the edge of town was too much for his knee. I tried to convince him to stay behind, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “I shouldn’t have let him fight in the first place,” I said hollowly.

  “He would’ve insisted.”

  I swayed on my feet, and Mellicante grabbed my arm. “Where is Baridya?”

  I closed my eyes. I could not bring myself to tell her.

  “Kalleah! Where is she?”

  My eyes flickered to the boat out at sea, still outlined in blazing flames.

  Mellicante staggered back a step. “No.”

  Words failed me; I shook my head.

  “What happened?” Mellicante spat. “Tell me!”

  I took an uneven breath. “She and Cal and Nyla were trapped on that ship with me. I managed to escape. I don’t know what happened to the rest of them.”

  “You abandoned them?”

  “I—I had to save Larkhaven.” My voice shook. “They were burning my followers alive. I had to stop them.”

  “I’ve sent boats after them,” Leoth said from behind me, his voice deep and reassuring. “If they’re alive, we will find them.”

  “Bloody Varse,” Mellicante snapped, though I heard the tremor in her voice. She turned and stalked away, still limping.

  I sank onto the crate and hugged my knees. I felt as though every drop of life had been sapped from me; I was a husk, empty and brittle.

  “We won the fight,” Leoth said softly, not coming any nearer. “Because of you, Larkhaven is now safe. You did a great thing today, Kalleah. Don’t forget that.”

  “Plagues,” I muttered. “I don’t need to hear that right now.”

  After a pause, Leoth turned and withdrew, leaving me sitting alone on the crate, numb to the voices and movement all around.

  * * *

  Partway through the night, I was put to work moving the injured. The woman who asked for my help did not seem to recognize me; I nearly objected, but the work was a welcome distraction. Eventually the sky turned a delicate shade of grey, the stars beginning to wink out. The streets were nearly empty, though candles and lanterns burned in almost every window.

  When the last of the injured were safe, I started back toward the waterfront. I had hardly emerged onto the main street when the Rider bounded up to me, shouting, “Your Majesty! The rowboats are coming back!”

  My heart flew into my throat. I broke into a desperate, clumsy run, fear and hope warring within me. At the edge of town, I leapt from the sea wall and dashed down the beach, stones clacking underfoot.

  There were the rowboats.

  I stumbled to a halt at the water’s edge, waves licking my boots.

  In the pale light of dawn, I thought I saw Baridya’s face, her long hair falling from its braid. And there—was that not a head of red hair?

  “Baridya! Cal!” I shouted, my voice hoarse and desperate.

  The rowboats surged forward, closing the final distance to shore, and Baridya leapt from the prow, plunging knee-deep into swirling water. She ran up the beach, splashing water everywhere, and I dashed forward to embrace her.

  She was laughing, and I laughed as well, though tears streamed down my face.

  With a joyous shout, Cal splashed into the water and threw his arms around us both. I clung to them, the numb, hollow feeling in my chest melting away.

  When at last we parted, Baridya and Cal had tears in their eyes as well, though both grinned broadly.

  “How did you escape?” I could hardly believe they stood before me, alive. Nyla and the archer had made it back as well, though Nyla’s hair was badly singed.

  “It was Cal,” Baridya said, squeezing Cal’s shoulder. “We were all locked together in the hold, and once we were alone, he decided to light a fire even though he couldn’t see. It was such a risk—we could have all died—but they would have killed us in the end either way.

  “We helped each other get our blindfolds off and untie the ropes binding us, and all the while the hold was filling up with smoke. Just when we thought we would suffocate, the door opened, and someone ran down to rescue a chest from the hold. We escaped while he was busy, and in the chaos on deck, no one noticed us jump overboard.

  “We moved away from the ship and stayed afloat while the ship burned. We treaded water for what felt like hours, until I couldn’t feel my legs any longer. Whenever I started slipping under, a dolphin swam near and nudged me back to the surface. Several Whitish soldiers jumped overboard, but most of them drowned. Eventually we heard voices calling for us, but we couldn’t see them, and they couldn’t hear us over the fire. It was the dolphin that helped us reach our rescuers in the end. We took turns grabbing its fin so it could tow us to the rowboat.”

  I couldn’t believe it. The Rider must have kept watch over us through the whole battle, sending Luthi to keep us safe. He had saved more than just our lives tonight. “Gods, Baridya. If anything had happened to you…”

  Baridya gave me a watery smile. “We thought the same thing. We had no idea if you were still on board—we were terrified we might have killed you.”

  “What happened here?” Cal asked, while behind us everyone in the rowboats clambered wearily up the beach. “How did we managed to beat the Whitish?”

  Haltingly, I recounted how I had escaped and rallied the townspeople to free our supporters.

  “What happens next?” Baridya asked quietly once I finished.

  I managed a smile. “You need to find Mellicante. She nearly gutted me when she learned I had left you for dead.”

  28

  The Itrean Army

  T he day after the battle, we built a towering funeral pyre on the cliffs overlooking Larkhaven, where we farewelled our fallen warriors as the sun set. I moved my small army into the Larkhaven palace, which we cleaned and repaired swiftly with the help of many hands, and began grappling with the overwhelming list of tasks we had to complete before we marched on Baylore.

  No trace of the Whitish army remained in Larkhaven. Those who had passed as ordinary citizens must have joined the Whitish soldiers in the battle and perished by their side. For the first time ever, I held power over a city that gave me its full allegiance. It was oddly disconcerting.

  A drenching rainstorm fell the next day, washing the streets clean of blood and carrying the ashes of our dead out to sea. I sat up late into the night, listening to the rain drumming on the roof of Lord Gabrin’s town residence, fighting to suppress the hopelessness that threatened to choke me.

  Now that we had secured Larkhaven, the magnitude of our fight for Baylore loomed. We would try, of course we would, but every strategy I dreamed up seemed to lead only to failure. Baylore would fall, Itrea would fall, and my people would be slaughtered. Our population was simply not large enough to overcome the might of Whitland.

  To keep my mind off the inevitable, I filled my time with smaller tasks. We had buildings to repair, new soldiers to recruit, and supplies to arrange.

  Three days after the battle, Viko sought me out in private and confessed nervously that it had been he who gave away my identity.

  “The soldiers in town must’ve recognized me,” he mumbled. “When I was trying to gather support, they dragged me into an abandoned shop and interrogated me. Once I let slip who you were, they left.”

  I did not have the heart to punish him for his betrayal. “Perhaps it was for the best,” I said instead. “The Whitish soldiers took me captive because they knew who I was. If they hadn’t known, they might have killed me before I could speak to them.”

  Viko stared at me. “You’re not
angry?”

  “Not this time.”

  * * *

  In the days that followed, Leoth seemed to be avoiding me. I still could not believe that he had forbidden blood—that he had managed to keep it a secret his entire life. Rather than turning me against him, as he seemed to fear, the truth only drew me closer. But he had withdrawn into himself. Even around others, his expression seemed guarded, his manner too polite.

  One warm, still day, I caught sight of him walking away from the palace toward the sea cliffs, hands in his pockets, head down. I followed at a distance. Eventually Leoth stopped and took a seat at the edge of the cliff, his feet hanging over the sheer face.

  I approached; he glanced my way without surprise.

  “What are you doing here?” Leoth asked as I settled down beside him, the grass spiky beneath my leggings.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to talk to you.” I watched a bird dive into the waves far out to sea. I could sense Leoth’s eyes on me, but I did not look at him. “We haven’t spoken properly since the day you told me what you are. It hasn’t changed the way I feel about you—except that I now understand why you did what you did. I do wonder, though. You claim you cared about me even when you betrayed me, but how could you do it, knowing I would likely die at the hands of the Truthbringers if I lost the vote?”

  “What? Who said anything about dying?”

  I blinked at him. Did he really not know? “Your father pledged to hand me over to the Truthbringers if I lost the palace vote.”

  “Plagues! I had no idea. My father’s a cruel, twisted—”

  “If you had known, would you have acted differently?” I looked him in the eye. “Knowing your own secret was at stake—your own survival—would you have chosen to protect me or save yourself?”

  Leoth’s eyes dropped to the waves far below. “Varse,” he muttered. “I…probably not. I’m not a good person, Kalleah. I thought you’d realized that by now. I’ve spent my whole life trying to hide what I am, not caring who got hurt in the process.”

  “You were afraid,” I said gently. “People make bad decisions when their own safety is at risk. I’m not a good person either, Leoth.”

  His eyes flickered up to meet mine again.

  “I found the body of an innocent servant and disposed of it rather than admit we had a killer inside the palace. I murdered a man. I allowed the governor to die when I might have been able to save him, because the other option would have meant compromising our resistance efforts. I’m trying to do the best for Itrea, but sometimes that means making awful choices. I hate myself for it. Only Mellicante knows everything I’ve done—I worry my friends would turn away from me if they learned the truth.”

  I spoke in a bitter, detached voice, no longer caring about the consequences. Part of me wanted to see Leoth turn away in disgust; it was what I deserved.

  “I put the Truthbringers in power,” he said hollowly. “I started something that will lead to hundreds of innocent Makhori dying. You think what you’ve done was wrong? You always chose what you thought was best. I didn’t. I let myself get pushed around by my parents and the Truthbringers, making decisions that would strip the rights from people like me. I knew it was wrong, but—”

  “You were afraid,” I said again. “You were taught from a very young age that you were evil and did not deserve to live, so you acted accordingly.”

  “But even after I started to care for you—after I realized there was another way, a way that didn’t involve so much hatred—I still made the wrong decision. I continued to act as my father’s puppet, knowing it was wrong and knowing I could have done better.”

  “You have another chance now. This time you can make the right decision.”

  “No. I’m willing to train your soldiers, to follow your orders in battle, but don’t ask more of me. If we march back to Baylore, we’re going to see my parents, and…I can’t promise I won’t succumb to their influence again. Remember what I said that one night?”

  I knew immediately what night he spoke of.

  “We think we’re independent, that we’re making decisions based on our own logic and knowledge, but in fact, our entire view of the world has been shaped by the way we were raised. It’s bloody impossible to break away from that. Here, far from Baylore, I can confidently say I support what you’re doing and won’t betray you. But back there…”

  As much as I wanted to protest, his words rang true. A large part of what had driven me to hide Misha’s body was the fear of facing Mother’s disappointment. I might have been able to deal with the situation in a better way, one that did not end with Wistin’s blood on my hands, but that would have meant admitting to Mother what I had done.

  “You won’t be alone the next time you face them,” I said at last. “I’ll be there.”

  Leoth got to his feet, shaking his head. “It’s not that easy. I want to serve you, to help you win our country back, but don’t give me anything more. I don’t deserve it.”

  Before I could protest, he walked away. His shoulders were rounded, his hands buried in his pockets.

  I was left alone, my feet dangling over the sea cliffs, craving Leoth’s company, his arms around me. I realized in that moment that I had never stopped loving him. He was the only person who had ever made me feel as though my cursed power did not matter. He saw me for myself. And now I knew why that was—because he felt it too.

  How could I make this right?

  * * *

  Nearly a quarter after the battle of Larkhaven, as summer drew to a close, a visitor arrived and requested a private audience with me.

  I waited in Lord Gabrin’s study, unsure what to expect. When the door opened, my throat caught in my breath.

  It was Dakolth, the Drifter who had guided us safely through the Wandering Woods.

  Once he had stepped inside and closed the door behind him, he bowed.

  “What brings you here?” I asked, trying not to betray my shock.

  Dakolth strode to the edge of Lord Gabrin’s desk and stood before me, hands clasped behind his back. “I have watched the forest road ever since you left us. In this time, I have seen evidence of great evil growing in this land. When I told my people what I saw, they thought I was growing too invested in the outside world. It confirmed their belief that no one who leaves the forest ever truly returns.”

  He sighed heavily. “But I sense this coming war will harm my people as much as it does yours.”

  “Dakolth—”

  “I made my decision. I have gone through the ritual to come into my power, and I wish to remain by your side, as your adviser and court healer.”

  I was speechless with gratitude.

  “Only if you would have me, of course,” Dakolth said, his expression darkening.

  “Of course!” I said hurriedly. “I don’t know what to say. I am deeply humbled by your offer—you sacrificed so much. What about your family?”

  He glanced down at his feet. “They will remain in the woods. It is not safe for them here.”

  I could not argue, yet the sorrow in his eyes pained me.

  Unable to think how to properly express my gratitude, I stood and skirted around the desk to Dakolth’s side. Then I dropped to my knee. “I may not be your queen, but I hope I can serve your people as much as I do mine.”

  He reached for my hand and pulled me back to my feet. “My people are still blind, but one day they will see that this is our war, not yours alone. I merely do my part for the land we share.”

  * * *

  As autumn crept ever closer, I began to fear some evil had befallen my father and Dellik.

  Had Whitish soldiers ambushed them in one of the far-flung towns? Or had they found no one to join our cause?

  I had to assume the worst.

  We put out a call for volunteers to join our army, and little by little, Larkhaveners began pledging themselves to our cause. Hundreds enlisted, and they spent their days training under the blazing sun. But it was not enough.

>   Then, on the very last day of summer, I received a summons from a man I did not recognize.

  “Your Majesty. Your presence is requested on the main road just outside town.” His eyes danced.

  I dropped the quill, leaving off my missive to Chelt mid-sentence. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Leoth, Mellicante, and Baridya joined me as I hastened from the palace. We broke into a run as we ascended the street leading out of town, and as we climbed, I thought I heard the distant keening of horns on the wind.

  At last we summited the hill, and I skidded to a halt, staring in disbelief.

  A sea of tents blanketed the farmland before us. Milling around the tents, men and women tended horses, sharpened weapons, and prepared dinner.

  “What—how—”

  Then I caught sight my father approaching. His expression was guarded, cautious.

  “I heard that we came too late. That a ship of Whitish reinforcements arrived before we could help. Kalleah, I thought that would be the end of you. I cannot believe you managed to hold your own against the Whitish. You are a true queen, and I am proud to call you my daughter.”

  Grinning, I embraced him impulsively. “Thank you, Father.”

  “And now I have returned. I hope these volunteers will make a difference.”

  My heart swelled with hope. Here it was, at last—the beginnings of a true Itrean army.

  For the first time, I allowed myself to believe. For the first time, we stood a chance against the might of Whitland.

  Don’t miss Usurper Queen, the continuation of Kalleah’s story.

  Baylore has fallen into enemy hands. And the deadliest army in the world is on its way to Itrea.

  Time is running out when Kalleah sets out to reclaim Baylore with an army of her own.

  But after a long march back, she arrives to find the city gates closed. No strangers are allowed in, and armed guards patrol the perimeter.