Crown of Chaos

by Sarah E. Burr

  A wolfish grin spread across his leathery face.

  Amyra tutted her disapproval. “Virtues, Waylon, the War Council hasn’t even begun yet. Let’s not stoop so low as to bring the girl’s father into this.”

  Jax winced internally. At thirty, she was hardly a “girl.” Yes, she may have been one of the youngest sovereigns in the chamber, but she’d wager that her leadership experience outweighed that of most of those around her. She knew for a fact Katalina and Waylon delegated most of their duties to their High Courtiers. Besides, Saphire still reigned as the most economically prosperous duchy in the realm. Yet, in the eyes of her colleagues, she was still just a young, flighty woman standing on the shoulders of her renowned father, who had yet to truly prove her worth to the world.

  “My, my, my, so many new faces.” Duke Florian Hestes grunted his arrival. It took Jax a moment to recognize the man, and it might have taken longer had he not marched directly to the Hestian chair. Once a dashing, vivacious man who jousted alongside the Hestian knights, Florian was a shell of his former self. Not yet fifty, ashen skin hung from Florian’s gaunt face. While he still stood tall, the muscles that once covered his athletic frame had grown soft. He was no longer the warrior Duke he’d once been. Jax couldn’t help but compare Florian’s deterioration to that of Henrik Crepsta. Knowing the loss of family they’d both suffered, she mourned the vicious effects of bereavement.

  Florian eyed Perry and Landon, who’d both ascended to the throne in the past year. “Yet, despite your youth, I don’t envy you.” He gave them a curt nod.

  Their host arrived at last, escorting two figures in his wake. “I’m glad to see everyone is already here. I hope we haven’t kept you waiting.” Though a welcoming smile was plastered across his face, Darian Fangard’s eyes pinched with anxiety. When she saw who accompanied him, Jax could guess why.

  Delphinia Tandora and Qylvard Savant strolled arm-in-arm into the chamber, each wearing smug expressions, satisfied with their grand entrance. Jax’s keen gaze narrowed, noticing how tightly the elderly woman clasped Qylvard’s muscular forearm, her arthritic fingers laboring to stroke him with proprietorial reverence. Jax’s stomach soured at the sexual nature of the simple act. So, that’s how he ensnared Delphinia so tightly in his web.

  Anyone who didn’t know his corrupt and cruel nature might think Duke Savant an exceedingly handsome and charming man. His thick, dark hair was cut and styled to enhance his sculpted cheekbones and chiseled jaw. His cream-colored dress shirt was cut low, revealing the muscles of a tanned chest. Black trousers hung from a trim waist, showing off the man’s excellent form, no doubt meant to distract anyone who might be taken by his charms. Jax noted Amyra and Katalina smirking with appreciation, and even Landon’s cheeks flushed pink at the attractive radiance of the Savantian leader.

  “Praise the Virtues you’ve all safely arrived.” Qylvard held a golden chalice aloft in his other hand, toasting to the sovereigns of the realm with thinly veiled condescension.

  Jax’s teeth ground together. This was the man who had twice now tried to orchestrate her death. Innocent lives had been forfeited by his manipulative hand, including that of one of Jax’s dearest friends. She prayed she had the strength to restrain herself and not lunge across the room and strangle him where he stood. She vowed she would wipe the smug expression off his face one way or another.

  “It is so wonderful to see us all gathered together,” Qylvard continued, his voice a velvet seduction. “What a lovely idea to call this gathering, Jacqueline.” His eyes were pools of plum wine as they found hers, churning with pure malice.

  Perry’s fingers brushed lightly against her hand, the concealed gesture a soothing comfort as she fought to keep her breathing even. Yet, he thankfully remained silent. It seemed her earlier words had resonated with him. Perry knew to let her stand on her own, less she be regarded as weak, needing the shelter of a man to protect her.

  Katalina rubbed her palms together, an eager gleam in her royal eyes. “You’ve been keeping us in suspense for months, Jacqueline. What have Tandora, Savant, and Beautraud done to affront Saphire so?”

  Florian grunted, his haunted glare narrowing in Jax’s direction. “We’ve come an awful long way on good faith that your reason for summoning a War Council is valid.”

  And so it begins.

  “Yes, you have,” Jax answered gracefully, her tone level and soft. She recalled the words that had brought them all here, words she had sent by her father-in-law’s ravens many months ago. Recent events have cast a shadow across the continent by the Duchies of Tandora, Beautraud, and Savant, and my grievances with these nations must be aired. By the code of the realm, the leaders of the duchies are required to attend a council should one or more of the Virtues be broken by another nation. This War Council aims to resolve these grievances without bloodshed, but should any party breach the protocol of the War Council, rest assured, forceful action will be taken.

  In her formal summons, Jax had purposefully not mentioned that the grievances committed by the duchies of Tandora, Savant, and Beautraud had been an attempt to end her life, resulting in the unintended death of another. As she surveyed the curious expressions all around her, she wondered how many in the room knew the full story. Aside from Perry, her grandfather, and Darian, Jax had not shared the truth of her enemies’ actions with her allies. Florian, Landon, and Henrik knew Delphinia and the Dukes had done something unforgiveable, but Jax had not elaborated on the subject, only stating that all would become clear at the War Council. But Henrik’s earlier comment made her wonder. The man who had taken Jax’s place in death had been a Kwatalarian noble. Although she had requested that he not, it was entirely possible that the man’s father, a cantankerous earl, had ridden to his Duchess to demand retribution, thus ruining Jax’s chances for secrecy.

  “It does seem rather childish,” Amyra purred, “to call us all together simply because you have differing ideals on how to run a duchy.” Her pointed gaze flickered from Qylvard to Jax. “But to each their own.”

  Jax dipped her chin in concession. It seemed the Duchess of Kwatalar was still in the dark about what had transpired in her desert lands. Had Earl Killiam really changed his mind about informing Amyra of his son’s untimely death? Perhaps she was merely dangling the carrot. Jax willingly took the bait. “I’m glad to hear you say such things, Amyra. You are right. We each should be left to rule our nations as we see fit.” She moved to her chair and sank into its cushions, noting several others followed her lead.

  Qylvard’s nostrils flared upon seeing that he, Waylon, and Delphinia were the only ones left standing. He obviously did not relish how everyone else followed her lead.

  “However,” Jax continued after the dramatic pause, “when one of us is threatened for simply carrying out the duties of our role, then we have a problem.”

  Katalina’s pert nose wrinkled. “Threatened?” She glanced around the room to gauge the others’ intrigued reactions. “Virtues, what do you mean?”

  From the pockets of her gown, Jax pulled the evidence she had been collecting since her summer journey to Ogdam Oasis. She placed the stack of folded letters tied neatly with a bow into the outstretched hand of Landon Lysandeir to her left. “You all are aware of the changes I’ve implemented within Saphire’s borders?”

  Amyra’s fingertips tapped on the arm of her temporary throne. “Not a week goes by when the Ducal Guard aren’t sent to some remote desert village to squash protests from the common-born. Yes, we are well aware you have tossed aside centuries of tradition in favor of letting your people rule themselves.”

  Jax flinched at the disapproval in Amyra’s tone. In the past, Kwatalar had always maintained a neutral stance when it came to conflicts within the realm, yet the Duchess’s cool censure reminded Jax that the duchy’s longstanding neutrality was not a given. “I apologize if the changes I’ve made to my duchy have caused upheaval in your own. That was never my intention.” The lie tasted sweet on her tongue. “I only se
ek to bring about a new way of life for the people of Saphire.” And for all the people of the realm, but we’ll get to that.

  “Then why call us all here?” Florian snapped, his impatience clearly getting the better of him. “I know there were talks to revisit and review this new democratic method at the conclusion of the summit in Lysandeir last year, but a War Council? Were such measures really necessary to summon us together?”

  Jax again dipped her chin in reverential acknowledgment. “I did not call this War Council to promote any ideals, other than the simple Virtues our realm was founded on. Virtues that Savant, Tandora, and Beautraud have turned their backs on by orchestrating plots to end my life.”

  The chamber fell silent, the echo of her words the only sound.

  Katalina recovered first. “That is an awfully bold accusation to make, Jacqueline.”

  Jax noted how the Duchess’s eyes flickered nervously to those named in the accusation.

  Landon handed Katalina the stack of delicate parchment he’d been reviewing. “An accusation that is well supported. Here, read this one.” He pointed to one letter in particular. “Is that not Qylvard’s family seal?”

  Katalina’s eyes widened as she read over the page before skimming the other documents. “Forged missives, altered requisitions, poisoned chocolates, blackmail…Virtues, even a direct order to murder Jacqueline!” She stared in horror at the three leaders who had remained standing. “Goodness, Qylvard, it’s as if you were almost trying to get caught.”

  Duke Savant folded his sculpted arms and looked down at the assembled group. “I won’t deny the measures I’ve taken to secure the realm.”

  “Securing the realm?” Jax’s grandfather snapped. “That’s how you’re defending your unvirtuous actions?”

  Qylvard sauntered into the center of the circle of chairs, plainly desiring the room’s attention. “Amyra said so herself. Not a week goes by without unrest in our duchies. Jacqueline’s flighty whims to bring delusions of equality to her people have plunged the rest of us into chaos.”

  “Saphire’s continued economic success is anything but due to a flighty whim.” Jax’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her chair. “My people—all my people—prosper under this new system. Which is why your own people crave change, crave the chance for a better life.”

  Waylon coughed. “Not all yer people, Duchess. Saphirian nobles are arriving in my cities by the droves.”

  She rolled her eyes at his wild exaggeration. “I will not allow you to debase my accomplishments, Duke Beautraud. Only one Saphirian noble family has defected to your lands. And their estate is already thriving under new leadership.”

  Amyra held up a hand, cutting off Beautraud’s retort. “I thought we didn’t come here to be lectured about your way of doing things, Duchess.”

  No response to the murder that took place on your lands, Amyra? No anger over the role my enemies played in the death of a Kwatalarian lord? As much as Jax wanted answers to her questions, she held her tongue. Amyra’s lack of reaction to Tarek Killiam’s death told Jax one thing: the woman had known about the failed assassination attempt for months.

  Finally acknowledging Amyra’s curt rebuke, Jax bowed her head in deference. “We did not. I came here to demand retribution from Savant, Tandora, and Beautraud, as they have plainly disregarded the Virtues by which we rule the realm.”

  By now, the documents Jax had provided the War Council had made their way to Florian’s hands. “It does seem like they tried to orchestrate your death. At least, from what I’ve read in these letters.” His doubts at their authenticity hung in the air.

  Jax placed her folded hands on her lap. “I would have brought a witness to the War Council, a man by the name of Olavo who served as Delphinia’s private secretary. But…” she waved a hand at the stack in Florian’s hands. “…as you can see from one of Qylvard’s missives, he ordered the man to be murdered. By blackmailing my lady’s maid, no less.”

  Delphinia’s upper body visibly jerked in her stance behind her chair. From the shock in her cloudy gaze, Jax guessed Qylvard had not shared this particular scheme with her.

  From her right, Darian cleared his throat. “Based on the evidence and accusations Duchess Jacqueline has presented the War Council with, how do the accused respond?” he asked, assuming the role as mediator.

  Qylvard stalked to his chair and finally sat down. “I won’t deny it. But until Jacqueline’s fanciful ideals about letting the common-born rule themselves are snuffed out, the realm’s security is in danger. I won’t apologize for taking action to protect our way of life.” The suave, blasé manner which he delivered his speech highlighted why the man was such a successful politician, despite the small size of his duchy.

  Darian turned a cool gaze to Waylon and Delphinia, who both took their seats, as well. “And how do Beautraud and Tandora plead?”

  Delphinia’s response was strained with age. “While I admire the Duchess’s ambition, I must side with tradition. Our ancestors believed in this system, and I trust in their wisdom.”

  Jax pictured herself standing, picking up her makeshift throne, and tossing it at the delusional woman’s head. Our ancestors believed in a better world, free of oppression. We have turned our backs on everything they fought for by letting the common-born waste away under the tyranny of our current system. Didn’t any of these people understand what hypocrites they had all become?

  Waylon merely shrugged agreement.

  His brow furrowing at their cavalier responses, Darian turned his brown-eyed gaze to Jax. She knew how personal this was to him, as he had been the one to champion elected leadership in the first place. Had Darian not risen as a prominent leader in the wild region of Cetachi, Jax might have gone on with her life, never being enlightened to the suffering their hierarchical governing system caused the common-born. While she knew she had him to thank for the thriving changes in her duchy and for making the lives of her people better, Jax also knew Darian blamed himself for the heavy burden placed on her shoulders as she became the new champion for this democratic way of life.

  “Given the accused do not deny their offenses against you, Jacqueline, what retribution do you require to make things right in the realm?”

  Jax sucked in a breath, knowing her next words would define the Realm of Virtues in the years to come. “As members of the ducal bloodlines, we were each preordained by our ancestors to lead our respective nations.” Her amethyst gaze circled around the faces in the room, reminding each regal-eyed sovereign of the only reason they sat on their duchy’s throne. “However, our ancestors also required the ducal bloodlines devote themselves to the Virtues of bravery, kindness, intelligence, and humility. We are tasked with upholding those Virtues in our own lands. And when the Virtues are broken by our citizens, we demand punishment. As sovereigns, we are not above the laws of the realm. We live by the Virtues. We die by them as well.” Jax met Perry’s burning gaze across the room, looking to him for comfort before she continued. “In plotting my death, three of our own have shown their disregard for the Virtues, the very values our realm thrives upon. Due to their murderous actions, I declare Qylvard Savant, Delphinia Tandora, and Waylon Beautraud no longer worthy of the crowns upon their heads. I demand their lands be forfeited, and they be cast into exile.”

  Chapter Five

  Qylvard’s maniacal laughter broke the silent tension. “You demand we be exiled?” He glanced at Waylon, who joined him in laughter. “My, my, Jacqueline, you’ve surprised me. I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to say it outright.”

  As Delphinia joined in their raucous outburst, Jax felt her cheeks start to smolder. This wasn’t the reaction she had suspected. She’d expected outrage and shouting…not pure amusement.

  Perry and her grandfather cast dark glares at the accused trio, and Darian clapped his hands for order. Qylvard, Delphinia, and Waylon dismissed his plea and continued on with their obnoxious behavior.

  Jax surveyed the others in the room. Landon
looked incredibly uncomfortable, shooting furtive glances at a pensive Perry and Darian. Amyra’s lips pressed in a thin line, and Katalina tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, appearing almost bored. Only Florian seemed mildly amused by the scene.

  “Forgive me.” Qylvard wiped a tear from his eye with an exaggerated flourish. “It’s just, the idea of you really believing you have any power here, Jacqueline, is truly entertaining.”

  She choked back a ludicrous scoff. She should have known Savant would underestimate her. She’d been spreading rumors for months that the numbers behind Saphire’s ducal forces were not nearly as strong as they once had been. Why, her army was ten thousand strong, dwarfing those of most of the realm combined.

  Qylvard rose from his seat and began to circle the other chairs. “Why, I feel quite sorry for you, my dear. So young and naive, wanting to change the world. That’s just not how things are done.” He stopped and actually tsk-tsked. “You think Saphire is infallible, that no one can stand in your way.”

  Jax kept her expression calm while anxiety began to tear through her. What was going on here? His blusterous arrogance stemmed from more than simply underestimating her. Why did Qylvard seem to think he’d already won?

  The Savantian Duke gave a casual glance at his sleeves and straightened the pristine cuffs. “I’m afraid there is nothing you can say to persuade me into giving up my crown. In fact, in a matter of days, there won’t be anything you can do about it, either. You might as well surrender now.”

  Her stoic mask cracked, and she edged forward in her chair. “Why would the greatest nation in the realm surrender to the likes of you?” she spat with defiance.

  Qylvard stopped his pacing and lanced her with a menacing stare. “Because it’s not just me anymore, Jacqueline. Nor is it just Beautraud and Tandora.” His sneer widened as he scanned the other faces in the room. “Can the greatest nation in the realm really stand up against the might of our coalition alone?”