Fight for the Crown

by Emilie MacCauley

  “You are about to witness history,” he grabs onto her elbow tightly as he tugs her along. “Let’s go greet our father. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

  She tries to yank her arm out of his grip, but it’s no use. “He’s no father of mine just like you’re no brother of mine.”

  “Is that the thanks we get for taking you in when you were orphaned. Father fed and clothed you and gave you a place to sleep.”

  “I was orphaned because he killed my father!”

  He pouts his lip, “And what about us? Your dear brothers.”

  She throws a punch directly at his face but he deflects easily. She is heaving with rage, her tiny hands curled into fists. Her red eyes are shining through her glamour that is slowly wearing off.

  “Is that all you got? Last I heard you were in training. You must not have worked on your combat skills,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Do you really believe you could ever be queen of this kingdom?”

  She doesn’t respond back.

  “You’re weak. Pathetic,” he taunts asserting dominance over her, “You are scum just like all the rest of the low bloods and the freaks at Cirvka.”

  Her punch lands on his jaw, sending him stumbling back and falling on the ground. He groans from hitting the hard floor. The taste of blood fills his mouth, one of his teeth must have cut the inside of his cheek. He curses under his breath and by the time he pulls himself together, she has already made a run for it.

  He picks himself off the ground and shouts out his frustration. He chases after her, normally he likes the thrill of the hunt but this is frustrating. He has waited for this moment for too long for it to be postponed because he has to chase his sister across the castle. He turns corridor after corridor his aggravation only growing as he slams his fists against the wall. If he lost her, there will have to be a change of plan and that will make things more difficult. He takes a deep breath and continues his search. There’s no way she could get far. With his guards standing post and her being magicless, she’ll turn up eventually.

  There’s nowhere to hide.

  * * *

  “It’s nice to see you, son,” The Overseer smiles at Shadow. He has his arm locked around Lola’s struggling body and Prince Morris’ eyes are black under his father’s manipulation.

  “I would say likewise, but I wouldn’t mean it,” he snarls. “What are you doing in the dungeon? I thought you’d fancy the throne room.”

  “I will when the time is right. I came here to make sure you were still detained. Knoton got word from Prince Arlo that Rowan is here.”

  “And she knows what you did. She’ll never work with you.”

  “I don’t need her to work with me. Not while I still have my collar around her neck and as long as the power of love is still in her heart, she will do anything to keep you alive.”

  He knows what that type of power will do to someone. He had his sister’s life hanging over his head for so long. There were so many regretful things he did that have been steps leading up to his father’s ruthless plan. He wishes he could’ve put a stop to it all, but he would do anything to keep his sister safe and that is what he doesn’t regret. He has been a victim for far too long, his sister may be safe but at the cost of a little girl’s life. One that he took and he will never forgive himself for that. He will never not look in the mirror and see the monster his father made him become.

  He hopes that it will never come to manipulation for Rowan because if she has to live through what he did when he watched Lottie’s soul leave her body, it will destroy her. It will discourage and damage her, possibly hindering her ability and her drive to fulfill her destiny. Roe is strong and determined, and her sympathy and ability to care for others is exactly what will make her an amazing queen. Her humility, her innocence, her strength and her will is what needs protecting the most. He has spent his whole life hating and fighting Shevka, but he thinks it’s time for peace and she is the answer.

  “I’ll come and grab you after the show is done. Then we will have much to talk about.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Rowan is running for her life.

  She zig-zags throughout the corridors hoping she can lose him quick and fast. The palace has never been safe for her, but this mission to save Shadow was a risk worth taking. Rowan begins to wonder what Arlo’s intentions are that she doesn’t know. There’s no way Rowan wants to find out what he means by making history. She has to find her way back to the dungeon, gather all of her friends and escape. There will be a time to stop Prince Arlo, but it’s not here, not now, not when so many palace guards are on his side and against her.

  As she turns the corner an arm wraps around her waist spinning her body into the captors grasp. “I was wondering when I’d see you,” her brother, Zakiriah, whispers in her ear.

  “Let me go,” she elbows him in the ribs.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” he shakes his head. “I just heard of your arrival and I thought I’d give you a warm welcome home. I hear Arlo has something special planned.”

  She squirms even more. “Let me go,” she steps on his foot and swings her elbow back to hit him in the nose.

  He lets go of her to grab his bleeding nose. He curses loudly, tackling her before she gets away. “You little bit—”

  “That’ll be enough, Zak. We don’t want to be late, we have some place to be.” Arlo stands at the end of the hallway with his arms crossed.

  The two of them handle her roughly, pushing her closer to the throne room where her father sits on his tall silver throne. His face lights up when he sees her. “Rowan,” he whispers while standing up. “Where have you been? Your mother and I have been worried sick.”

  She blinks a few times shocked at his concern. “I-I didn’t think you’d care.”

  “Of course I care! You’re my daughter!”

  She turns her head away not being able to look him in the eyes. “No, I’m not.”

  He stammers. “So, you found out,” he sits back in his throne and sighs. “Just because we didn’t sire you doesn’t mean you aren’t ours.”

  Her heart feels like it’s been stepped on. Tears pool in her eyes and she blinks them away making them fall down her cheeks in wet streaks. She has to remind herself that he is the reason her family is dead. He is the reason she never had the life she was always meant to have because he took them away. He oppresses all low bloods. He is the reason for so much misery.

  “Rowan,” he leans in closer, “What happened to your eyes?”

  “Don’t you recognize them, Father?” Arlo pushes her toward him. She falls on her knees. A piece of hair falls in her hair, the ends of it are turning orange. She looks down at her arms which are slowly starting to show her freckles. Her glamour is wearing off.

  “What is the meaning of this?” He shouts and points.

  “Look closer, red eyes...orange hair,” Arlo stands behind her. “Don’t her features remind you of someone?”

  “It can’t be,” he whispers in disbelief.

  “The daughter of the male you have slain,” Arlo introduces.

  “You’re lying!” He bangs his fist against the thrones armrest. “Who is this? This isn’t my daughter.”

  “You’re right,” she says softly, “I’m not your daughter. You killed my father!”

  Arlo chuckles enjoying himself.

  “What is the meaning of this, son?” The King stands once more looking just as confused as he does outraged. “Get her out of here!” He shouts to the guards.

  Two of King Syro’s oldest and most trusted guards at his side begin to move. Arlo nods his head at his own guards standing by, they get their swords ready and slit the throats of his father’s guards. It took years for Arlo to gather and gain loyalty from a group of palace guards and soldiers. They have been waiting for this day just as long as he has.

  While King Syro looks upon the bloodbath in horror it has given Arlo enough time to sneak up behind his fathe
r.

  “They don’t answer to you anymore...Father,” Arlo swiftly takes his dagger and slices it across the king’s throat. Blood spews across the white marble floors.

  The king sputters blood, gasping for air. His hands clutch his throat while betrayal shines in his eyes. Rowan has to look away as he gurgles on his own blood while trying to say something. His body hits the floor with a thud so loud she flinches.

  Arlo bends down picking up his father’s silver crown. He places it on top of his head replacing his prince’s crown with a king’s crown.

  “Bow to your new king,” he decrees.

  The guards kneel on one knee placing their fists to their hearts, pledging allegiance.

  * * *

  Knoton wears his best outfit for the occasion. Tailored black pants with a crease down the middle and a black tunic embroidered with a gold design on the v-neck collar. He enters the throne room looking upon his lover who is beaming with pride. Arlo is the new king and he will be by his side through it all. His heart skips a beat and he has to stop himself from running into his arms and kissing him fiercely. That will be for later. He looks handsome in his father’s crown and looks even better with his father dead at his feet.

  Long live King Arlo.

  The plan is finally complete.

  A new reign. A new era.

  Rowan is restrained by Arlo’s younger brother, Zakariah. Her face pale and eyes stained with tears, it’s surprising she could feel sadness toward the male who killed her real father. The Overseer is outside the throne room waiting for the right time to bring in all their prisoners. For now it is fun to taunt Roe. The look on her face is one he will always remember, it is the realization that just because she is the fated lost heir, there’s nothing she can do to stop years of precise planning.

  The love of his life is sitting trumphinatly on his throne. “Knoton, won’t you join me?” He smiles while tapping the throne his mother once sat in. They’d take care of her later. Once she gets word she’ll do one of two things, run for her life, or pledge allegiance to her son.

  The throne feels good under him. Already he can feel the power coursing through his veins. The pleasure of looking down at the dead king and Rowan who looks thoroughly defeated feels conquering. Years of being oppressed, years of enduring humiliating performance at Cirvka has finally come to an end. It is now his turn to be at the top of the hierarchy with his lover as its ruler.

  “Are they on their way?” The new king asks.

  “Yes. Blade must have received word by now. They’ll be here any minute.”

  “Perfect,” his eyes light with excitement. Everything is falling into place. “And is he waiting outside?”

  “Yes, My Majesty,” the words roll off his tongue.

  “Guards! Bring the prisoner in,” he claps and they obey.

  The armor cladded guards open the heavy double doors leading into the throne room. They grab Shadow who can barely hold himself up. His feet drag along the floor as two guards carry him by his elbows. They drop him on the floor next to Rowan. She fights Zakiriah’s grip and flings herself onto him. She’s sobbing into his chest as he pets her hair and shushes her gently. He whispers in her ear only making her cry louder.

  Arlo rolls his eyes and snaps at the guard to break them apart. Zakariah grabs Rowan and the guard holds Shadow at a few arms length from his girlfriend. She reaches for him anyways and he says calmly that everything will be okay. He snorts at how unconvincing Shadow sounds, as if he doesn’t believe there’s to be a good outcome for the two of them.

  Good, Knot thinks, there isn’t.

  “Shadow is here to pledge his allegiance to me,” Arlo crosses his legs and props his chin up with his fist.

  “I’ll never swear anything to you. You are not my king,” Shadow spits venomously. That earns him a knee in the gut from the guard. He moans in pain and dry heaves.

  “Do I need to get someone in here to help you?”

  Shadow doesn’t respond. He stares menacingly and challengingly as he looks directly into the eyes of the new king. Arlo’s jaw ticks. He will not be made a fool of. He claps his hands twice and entering from the curtain behind them is The Overseer.

  * * *

  The Overseer has been waiting nearly eighteen years for this moment. Although there is still one part of his plan left, he will not rush it.

  “Is this the kind of disrespect we show our new king?” He tilts his head at his son. He walks slowly toward Shadow. The room is so silent that the only sound heard are his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. The slap he strikes across his son’s face is fast and hard. His cheek turns bright red and the look in his eyes is one he’s always wanted his son to have, a murderous look, just not one towards him.

  “Bow,” his dark voice orders. In an instant his manipulative power forces Shadow to his knees. He groans trying to fight it.

  “Stop it!” Rowan screams.

  Zakariah claps his hand over her mouth but she bites his finger. He pushes her away from him to grab the bloody bite marks on his flesh. She sprints toward him attempting to tackle him but The Overseer is a lot quicker and stronger than she is. He grabs her arm and twists it behind her back.

  “Do you really think you could stop me?” He says against her ear. “Do you really think you can save Shadow from his own fate? It’s you, who had almost ruined everything,” he pulls her arm tighter behind her back causing her to cry out. “He had his part in this plan, but because of you it seems he’s become a coward or worse—he’s become a male with a heart. Now he wants nothing to do with his new fate. A fate that would have allowed him power, freedom, and fear. You’re going to watch as I make him obey. As I make him be the male he has always meant to be,” The Overseer’s eyes turn black and so does Shadow’s. “A ruthless killer.”

  “My father would be disappointed in you,” she lashes out squirming in his grip. The Overseer nearly laughs at her poor endeavor at an insult.

  “Your father would be proud. Proud that we have overthrown Syro and set the low bloods free.” There’s a pounding at the door. “Speaking of—they’re here.”

  An entire army comes through the door, it is the performers of Cirvka marching in formation with Blade leading them. All their eyes are black from the manipulation of their collar, and their minds mindless except for one simple order.

  Obey every order from The Overseer.

  “Anyone who rejects the new king or a Dakra at his side, will deal with our ruthless army. Ordered to kill all who rebel.”

  “What have you done to them all?” Her eyes dart back and forth taking in all the familiar faces who are now blank strangers.

  “They’re under my control,” he traces his finger along her collar. “My magic is linked with every single collar. Cirvka has always been a means of one thing—recruitment. Offer food, water, a place to sleep, and give them a reason to hate King Syro and high bloods. It wasn’t hard at all, not when mine and Melani’s powers combined created fake memories—make them believe their families died, or villages were destroyed because of the Shevka under Syro’s rule. Make them want one thing: revenge.”

  “You’re sick!”

  “Thank you.” He continues, “You see, revenge is the best recipe, next to love. The drive and need for it makes my part—the manipulation—easy. The vulnerability and blindness to truth is what keeps them deep under the spell I put them in.”

  “You planted false memories?” Rowan asks horrified. “but-but what really happened to their families? What have you done with them?” She stammers

  “The thing about manipulation is I make them see what I want them to see. Let’s take your friend, Pepper for example. Her memory is that her mate died, but that memory is fabricated as well as the memory of what she looked like.”

  “So, her mate is still alive?” Her eyes widen.

  “As are the families of many of the performers, including your friends Solana and Lola. Many of them pass by each other every day at Cirvka but have no idea.
Lovers talk without recognizing each other. Siblings perform without knowing of their shared blood.”

  “This has been your plan all along? Collect low bloods so you can create an army to uprise, kill the king, and rule for yourselves?”

  “Essentially,” he beams with pride.

  “My brother hates Dakra he will betray you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Arlo stands. “The Overseer and I found common ground. He came to me when I turned eighteen years old, I agreed with him that my father’s time on the throne should...come to an end,” he smiles. “I knew if I killed him myself his subjects and his army would reject me, but if I found a new group to support me, then I could rule. The Overseer promised me this army,” he points to the manipulated performers. “And most importantly he promised me, you.”

  “Why me? If anything I’m a threat, I’ll resist you!”

  “Which is exactly why you were led to Cirvka. So you could wear that pretty little collar and become my weapon to use,” Arlo paces.

  “Madame Tallulah and I have always kept our eyes on you, Rowan,” The Overseer chimes in, “I was there the day your mother gave birth and I was there the day she died for you. I knew one day I would have to get you away from the castle and back into my grasp.My son was watching you at the masquerade ball, he was waiting for the perfect moment. We had planned that night for years, all of it meticulously planned. You running out of the castle and The Darkwraith attack. Do you really think my son wasn in the forest that night by accident? He was waiting to save you and bring you back to Cirvka where you would learn your true fate. I had to get you to hate King Syro as much as we all did. That is where our plan failed. Shadow and his foolish affection toward you. You were supposed to want revenge, supposed to turn to me to help guide you to kill Syro and take over as the new ruler with me and Arlo at your side. I was supposed to guide you.”

  “I’ll never work for you,” Rowan spits.