The Fate of Crowns: The Complete Trilogy: A YA Epic Fantasy Boxset

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The Fate of Crowns: The Complete Trilogy: A YA Epic Fantasy Boxset Page 62

by Rebecca L. Garcia


  His royal blood was showing as the dance progressed. He knew every step and did them with grace and perfection, unlike when I had danced the same dance with Blaise. It was different—raw, passionate, and messy.

  “I need to talk to you about that,” he said, and a lump rose in my throat. “The arrangements for my return to Berovia have begun.”

  “Don’t go,” I pleaded. “Please.”

  He winced. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Beg.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “Why are you acting so strangely?”

  He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat moving as he diverted his stare from me. “It’s complicated.”

  “When did you stop telling me things?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Please, stay an extra week until my coronation. Is it so hard?”

  His hand moved toward my cheek, but looking around, he thought better of it. “Us, here, it’s been a beautiful escape. We can talk for hours and laugh at the same things. It’s easy being with you, but I think we both know it has to come to an end.”

  Prickles swept through my arms and torso, standing my hairs on end. I stopped dancing. “To an end? We were just talking about leaving early, but you were always supposed to come back.”

  He pressed his lips together. “This isn’t easy for me either. I gave up a lot to save you, to go with you to battle, and I knew I was doing the right thing. You were alone, without a friend, and I believe the gods placed me in your path. I’ve grown to care deeply for you, but things have grown complicated, and with Blaise returning, I worry he will be less than forthcoming.”

  My heart palpated. “You’re breaking up with me?”

  “Where will we live?” he asked, as if my heart wasn’t breaking. “It’s not been easy navigating this court. I’m here, for you, but I am not welcome. When you are not with me, the verbal abuse I’ve gotten, the constant stares and whispering, it can dampen even the sunniest soul. I may not care much for what they think of me, but I want to be back among those I like. My friends, my family. They need me, and I need to do by right by them.”

  I understood. For someone like him, why would he stay and give it all up for me? “I know.” But it didn’t hurt any less.

  “Winter, I could never be with you here. Not truly. I want a marriage, not a relationship in private, and I know you can’t give me more than that.”

  Tears swam in my eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “You won’t be.” He looked around the room. “I don’t fully understand your culture, and yes, some of it is questionable, but I see the incredible change you’re bringing already. I believe you can be the leader these people need. You have Morgana.”

  I gulped. I hadn’t spoken to her since. I think, in a way, we were both nervous to be around each other. The necromancer was such a big thing to tackle, and neither she nor I had the energy to do it. “Yes.” My gaze found Marissa in the crowd. “I suppose I’ll have Marissa. I like Amara too.”

  “There.” He smiled a sad smile, then held my hand. I should have told him no, but his touch was needed. Wanted. “Just do me one favor, Winter.”

  “What?”

  “I saw the way you lit up when you saw the peace treaty. Do what you need to do to keep peace between your kingdoms, but don’t trust Blaise. He’s dangerous. I’ve heard stories about him. Some maybe you don’t know. He manipulates you. I saw it when we were in Niferum. I think he likes you, but the way he shows it isn’t right. You deserve better than him.”

  I blinked back tears. “I don’t want him, Cedric.”

  He cast his eyes downward. “We both know that’s not entirely true. Don’t forget, I can tell when you’re lying.”

  My stomach flipped. “What bad things have you heard?”

  “He drove a girl to madness, to becoming a feral fae. Then she died. He’s slept with many women and broke their hearts. He would drink and scheme. There’s even a rumor he killed his father in cold blood. He plays with people’s emotions. I know, occasionally, we all have to betray the people we care about to do the right thing, but he does it all the time, for the wrong reasons. Just be careful.”

  His horrified expression paused me. My mouth felt horribly dry. “What if there was good reason for it?”

  “Don’t defend him.” He shook his head, his expression shrouded in disappointment. “How can any reason be good enough for those things? If you think him redeemable, then you’re not the person I thought you were.”

  “You’re so blinded by hatred for him, you don’t see what I do.”

  “I can’t believe you’re defending him.”

  Our conversation was beginning to call attention our way. “We will discuss this later.”

  He stepped back, then put his hands in the air. “We don’t have anything more to discuss.”

  TWELVE

  I stormed back to my room as midnight chimed. Anger kept me awake. I was being left… again. Something about Cedric was off. He kept talking about Blaise so much, I was starting to wonder if he was the one who was obsessed with him.

  I punched the bed and realized I hadn’t taken the second dose of the potion to keep the necromancer’s presence suppressed. I looked around for it, but my mind was fuzzy. Black dots floated in my vision as the pull for slumber was too strong to resist. I felt emotionally and physically drained, and the bed was a warm embrace filled with blankets and duck-feather pillows.

  Snuggling against my mattress, I drifted into blackness.

  I had barely fallen asleep when I was awake again, but things were distorted. Stone walls brightened from the shadows as the lamps flickered on. Air swept through the open window, circulating cold around my bedroom. Pale moonlight illuminated crimson-soaked gray. The floor was covered in drying blood; next to it, a body.

  “What’s happening?” My voice echoed. I whipped my head around, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood erect. The floor felt icy to my bare feet. The candle in my hands shook and the flame died, leaving a trail of smoke climbing upward. “Hello?”

  I jolted back when I saw a pair of soulless gray eyes watching me. His stare latched onto mine, unwilling to relent the tug-of-war between my conscious and subconscious. It was growing darker. The corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile. There was no humanity left in him, not even a scrap. He was darkness incarnate. Blaise had once told me the tale of Evangeline. It spun back into my mind, painting a story of the girl who defeated the necromancer’s hold over her, with death.

  “You’re the necromancer,” I stated. My breath fogged in the air. The temperature dropped a few degrees. A shiver snaked down my spine, and I shuddered it away.

  “Good observation.” He turned his back to me, looking at the body on the floor instead. “It’s a shame about your father. He was a man who knew what he wanted.” He waved his hand in the air. “It’s a pity I only got to meet him through the eyes of others.”

  “Others?”

  “Those who use sacrificial magic.” He picked at his nails, which looked like talons. He looked not from this world. “They never last long, but you and Morgana, you’re tough.”

  My eyes narrowed. “We are. You’re in my mind.” I could sense the coldness prickling every part of me numb in my waking life. “How did you attach yourself to me? Was it while I was on the other side? I wasn’t a part of the deal.”

  Not that I wanted Morgana to be either, but he’d not stuck to their agreement, and I needed to know why.

  “A part of you always belonged to me, Winter Mortis.” He tilted his head. “The first time you used dark magic, you opened a door. Your ancestors temporarily blocked it, but I knew eventually I would find a way in. To have a queen in my pocket… and now I do.”

  “No!” I shouted. My desperate tone bounced around us in echo.

  “Yes.” He hissed, chuckling as he did. “Morgana brought you back from the dead. Her first mistake. You were not worth it, but it doesn’t matter. It worked
out well. I have a queen, a woman who can go anywhere, do anything without much repercussion, in my control.”

  “I am not in your control.”

  “Yet,” he replied. “The concoction Morgana has spelled up for you will not last. The ingredients are rare. They will run out, and when they do, I will be here. Waiting. Just like tonight when you forgot to take it. Only traces linger in your blood, enough for me to break through, at least here in your subconscious.” He paused, looking at the window. His wide, terrifying gaze focused on the full moon. “You will forget again because you are not attentive. I have been alive for centuries. You are still a teenager.”

  “Barely,” I said, as if it made any difference that I was soon to be nineteen. “It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been feeding off souls and bringing out the darkest parts of people. I’ll find a way to cast you out. Do you know why?”

  He smirked. “Because you’re good and I’m evil? I’ve heard it before.”

  I took a step forward. “No. I’m willing to break the rules to get what I want, and what I want is you gone. From me and from Morgana.”

  “With your ancestral magic?” he spat. “Weak.”

  My gaze drifted to his talons. “I’ve heard stories about you.”

  “Don’t put much worth to stories, young queen.”

  The corner of my mouth twitched. From somewhere in the distance outside, I heard a raven squawk. “I believe there’s a lot more to stories than anyone wants to let on.”

  He ran a talon along my dresser. He examined my perfume atomizers and lotions. “I was fooled once, and I shall not be again. I know your weaknesses. One of them is your mentor, your only true friend. The other, the fae boy prince.”

  “Cedric.”

  “I can hurt Morgana. I can have her hurt others you love.”

  “You can go to hell.”

  He snarled. “I’m already there, girl.”

  I heard a woman’s voice catch in the breeze, whispers that dissolved as quickly as they had come. “What was that?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing of importance.”

  “I doubt it. We’re inside my head, right? Except, I wouldn’t dream up my father’s body. I feel no remorse.”

  He grinned once more, sending shivers down my spine. He sat in a chair, and his eyes rolled back. “Those words are music to my ears. I want you to feel no remorse, to kill without fear or worry.”

  “My father was a bad person. I did what I had to. I wouldn’t kill anyone else.”

  “Unless you had to. Like last time. Like you said, you’ll hurt people to get what you want.”

  “I don’t want to kill people. It brings me no satisfaction.”

  “How precious.” His words slithered into the next. “You want to be good.”

  I swallowed thickly. “I do what’s best for the people I care about.”

  “Oh, silly girl, did you not know? I have seen your mind, Winter Mortis, and it is mine. There is evil in your soul. It’s what makes you weak. Morgana is different, but you…” He tasted the air, acting as if he had eaten the most delicious meal. “You are delectable. You will be the perfect murderer. That space where remorse should be, it’s empty.”

  “You’re playing with my head. I won’t fall for it. I feel guilt.”

  His lip twitched upward. “You and I are alike, wicked at the core.”

  “I’m nothing like you.”

  “Just let go,” he said. “It will be easier for us both. You will enjoy it if you embrace me. Together, we can have power.”

  I looked around as the whispers rose louder. “This may be my mind, but those whispers in the air I don’t recognize. They’re linked to you. There are things here that are yours.” I hurried to the door, sweeping past his large form.

  “I wouldn’t leave, if I were you.” Warning laced his tone. “We are in your subconscious. Without me, the demons in your head will be free to torture you,” he explained. “You may never escape. Those who venture into the depths of their pain often don’t return. You’ll appear to the world as mad, but the true you will be caged.”

  I shuddered, then recoiled my hand from the door.

  His words were hollowed. “I require deaths. I need to bring someone back.”

  “You’re a necromancer. Isn’t bringing people back from the dead like your main thing?” I looked down at myself, as I was a living and breathing example of his work.

  “It’s not as easy as that. The person who died is not whole. Their bones no longer exist. I can only bring them back to have them die again.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “You want to bring someone back from the dead to kill them?”

  His thin blue lips pulled in behind his teeth. “The semantics are not important. All you must know is you will help me. I won’t ask again. Stop taking the potion, or I will force you to.”

  He flexed his fingers and sent me back to consciousness. Agony ripped through me and tugged at my nerves, dropping me to the ground.

  ***

  “Your Majesty.” Adius opened the door. “King Blaise has set sail and will be arriving this evening.”

  His words didn’t register in my mind at first. After my brush with the necromancer early this morning, I had been distracted, lost to thoughts I couldn’t connect. “Hmm?”

  “Your Majesty? Are you unwell?”

  I shook my head, snapping myself out of it. “Sorry. Um. Blaise. Right,” I said, connecting his words. “Yes, let him in.”

  He scratched the back of his head. “Of course, but he has already been let in?” Confusion pinched his eyebrows down. “Are you sure you’re well? Would you have me fetch the physician?”

  “No.” I inhaled sharply. “I’m fine, really. It’s the coronation and the fae’s visit. It has me stressed is all. Thanks, Adius.”

  He didn’t look entirely convinced but left me in peace nonetheless. I liked that about him. He was short, to the point, and knew when to drop things.

  Shortly after leaving, Marissa entered. A long white dress hugged her thin figure. Its lace trim and her matching bonnet gave it elegance. Her little lace umbrella would do little with the clouds blocking most of the sun, but I dared not say a thing. “Your Majesty.”

  “Winter,” I stated.

  She smiled politely. “Winter. Are you ready for our walk?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I actually have a few things to discuss with you.”

  I escorted her out, and we made our way through the bustling corridors, escorted by my guards, until we reached the large archway and doors to the garden. I gave them the signal to leave us alone.

  The frostbitten grass promised spring was still out of grasp. Bare branches from tall oaks shadowed skeletal leaves that carpeted the ground. Rotten conkers peeked between long grass, forgotten by squirrels. The small, white flowers of baby’s breath had survived the cold. A layer of fog hovered through the gardens. We strolled between flowerbeds and weathered stone fountains.

  “What do you think of Lady Nissa Avery?” I asked.

  She pressed her thin lips together, brushing her gloved hand against her chest. She inhaled deeply. “She is… ambitious.”

  “You are to speak honestly, Marissa.”

  “She uses her body to get what she wants.”

  “I know.”

  “She knows everything about everyone. She makes it her business to indulge in gossip.”

  A hint of a smile crossed my mouth. “Don’t we all?”

  Marissa blushed. “I suppose. She had been discarded after the king’s death. People were cruel to her, and I admire how she held herself. I would not have fared so well, admittedly, in the same situation.”

  “Good to know. I want you to arrange a meeting for me to meet her.”

  “What would be the purpose of the meeting, if I may ask?”

  “You may. I would like to invite her to be a lady-in-waiting.”

  Her eyes widened. I didn’t know how they could get any bigger. “Excuse me for saying, but the lords may not fi
nd her as a suitable lady. Usually, we are maidens.”

  “She’s smart.” I counted my fingers. “Resourceful. Strong. Bold. She knows things. I need those traits.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  I gave her a look. “She will do well, I believe. I had been looking at her all wrong. She may have been my father’s mistress, but she could be the key to what I need. Remember what I told you before? I need to build my own private army if I am to survive this place.” I looked back at the castle. “If any of us will.”

  ***

  My foot caught on the step on the way to the main hall after returning to the castle. As I lurched forward, the air whooshed from my lungs. I caught myself, pushing out my hands in front of me. Blood rushed to my face. I was immediately swarmed with guards, who pulled me to my feet. I tried to push them off. I could get up on my own, and some of the nobles were watching. I couldn’t show weakness. They were like lions, and I, a gazelle.

  Vahaga was among them. His bright eyes latched onto me like a snake eyeing its dinner. I pulled my lips behind my teeth, then brushed the dirt from my dress. My mother stared me down. Wrinkles protruded from the corners of her eyes, veining to her graying hairline. Her thin lips were pursed, and her hands were clasped over her emerald-green bodice. She whispered something to Vahaga, who gave her a curt nod, then turned from me.

  I turned on my heel and strutted toward them. “Vahaga,” I called before he could leave.

  His eyes widened when he faced to turn me. Normally, I’d be formal and show some form of respect, but not anymore. Not after what I heard had happened at the trials that morning.

  “Your Majesty,” he said slowly, a hiss stretching out his words. “What may I do for you?”

  My mother didn’t say a word but looked me to him and back. Her face was a ghost of mine. It took everything for me not to punch him in the face. I bit my tone down, aware we were surrounded with eavesdroppers. “I have been advised of the incident at the court trials this morning. The young mother.”

  His expression relaxed. A small smile tugged his lips. “You have made your position on attending the trials clear. I have relinquished the idea of you upholding tradition.”

 

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