A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  She fixed him with her unflinching gaze. “I would ask you all, as representatives of the seven bloodlines, to stand with us in forcing the removal of the King.” Two dozen pairs of eyes stared at her. I don’t know how she withstood it. I was trembling in my seat.

  “And the priest?” Lord Therus pressed the silence.

  “That would be for the steward queen to decide,” she added carefully.

  “Selice?” Aubrey finally spoke up. He looked to me, then back at my mother. “That’s your play?”

  “In less than three weeks, she will gain her majority. At that time, the King will hold a public audience to present her to the people. That is when we move, with all of Litheria in attendance.”

  It was a brilliant plan. Terrifying and dangerous, but brilliant. At a public audience, we could each bring our household guards, fully armed, without issue. Alone, that might be only six or eight soldiers, but together it constituted a sizable force. With enough support from the nobility, even the Divine Origin’s guards couldn’t overpower us.

  Should we fail, the King would be quietly assassinated shortly thereafter, spurring one last hope for Selice’s succession. That much, we kept to ourselves.

  My father looked around at the masked faces in attendance. “Many of you served alongside me with our king. We fought not only for Amenon, whom we all loved, but also for our country. We did what was necessary to ensure the survival of our nation.” His gaze rested on Reyus at the far end of the table. “I would ask you to make that same sacrifice again. To do what is necessary, no matter the cost.”

  Lord Oristei was an intimidating man, made more so by the bitter death of his beloved sister. He held my father’s gaze unflinching behind his violet domino.

  “I, for one, am tired of hiding in my own city,” Augustus grumbled into his wine glass. He stood, his mind made up. “House Chamberlain is with you.” Aubrey stood as well, glass in hand, and I joined them with my own.

  “I’ll not live the rest of my life in fear,” my friend added.

  “House Therus stands with you.” Ian and Leon rose, glasses in hand.

  “House Estentis as well.” Our Lazerin brethren. My heart raced in my chest.

  One by one the other Houses stood until only House Oristei remained seated. Ulrich and Feran, once my suitors, watched their father and mother closely for their cue.

  “Reyus?” my father’s voice cut through the air.

  For a long moment, I thought he meant to refuse. His eyes were hard, unblinking as they maintained their long fixation. Finally, he dropped his gaze to his wine glass, fidgeting with it on the table. “Damn it, Damien,” he muttered. He grasped it and stood. A sad, bitter grin crossed his lips as he raised his glass. “Mad Cavalry to the end, eh?” It was some private memory. I didn’t understand or need to. My parents did. He was with us.

  I wished Adrian were there to steady me.

  My mother’s eyes swept our company, and she raised her glass. “For Adulil. For our heritage. For Alesia.”

  “For Alesia,” two dozen voices intoned in unison. We drank.

  The remainder of the evening passed quickly. After an hour in the salon discussing how many men each House could contribute to the effort, most took their leave. It was enough. It would have to be.

  I felt wholly exposed, my throat laid bare before too many predators. It was so damned dangerous and so easy for it all to go horribly awry. Shera lingered behind at the end of the evening, approaching my parents timidly as the rest of our small staff milled about, helping to tidy from the evening’s entertainment.

  She removed her domino and curtsied deeply before my parents. “For what it’s worth, my lord and lady, we are with you as well.” All around the room, hands had fallen still, eyes watching.

  “To the end,” Emmett added firmly from his place by the door.

  “Thank you.” My father’s gentle gaze swept over each one of them. “Thank you all for your loyalty.”

  At that, we retired for the evening. Shera helped me to undress and then I her. She carefully hung her gown before joining me at the washbasin to scrub the cosmetic from our faces. When the last stubborn traces of kohl had finally been removed, I asked her to stay.

  “I’ve enjoyed this fantasy of you as my sister. Allow me one last thread of delusion before things return to the way they were.”

  She smiled sweetly and climbed under the covers beside me. We chatted quietly about the evening, and I was glad to hear she had thoroughly enjoyed it. She had helped me through such a terrible time in my life. I was glad to repay her in some small way. After a while, our voices trailed off and the sound of her soft snoring floated in the darkness. Lulled by her gentle breathing, I let exhaustion take me as well.

  Chapter 16

  When I woke at dawn, my sparring gear was laid out dutifully and Shera was gone. I was halfway through my daily drills when my mother appeared in the garden. Turning to greet her, I stopped short at the expression on her face. She held a letter in her hand, the golden wax of the royal seal stamped plainly upon it.

  “A summons,” she informed me stiffly.

  My blood ran cold.

  “We knew this might happen,” she reassured, though she didn’t seem terribly convinced, herself.

  “Do we run?” I asked meekly.

  “No.” In this, she was resolved. “It may be that he merely knows about the Samhain feast. If there is any chance our plans remain secret, we must do everything in our power to preserve the others.”

  I nodded my understanding. “I’ll get dressed.”

  My bath and breakfast were foregone in the face of the waiting summons. After refreshing myself as best I could in the washbasin, I dressed quickly and rushed to meet my parents for the carriage. As we rattled along the streets of Litheria, I felt sure we were going to our deaths. I scanned my parents, lost in thought. My mother noticed my stares and reached across to grasp my hand in hers. Her other hand found my father’s. She smiled at us both and gave us a bracing squeeze.

  “Courage,” she murmured. My father lifted her hand to his lips.

  The sapphire ring dug into my finger. Adrian. I wondered where he was. Fall was all but gone, and still he hadn’t arrived. With everything happening around us, I’d pushed my worry to the back of my mind. My fretting could not help him. It could only hinder me. Now, as we jostled along toward our almost-certain deaths, I wished I’d been able to see him one last time.

  My mother reached into her handbag, drawing forth three tiny vials on loops of string. “Take these.” She handed one to each of us, securing the third around her neck and tucking it under her gown.

  I held mine up to the limited light and shook it. A thin, pale amber liquid sloshed beneath the tiny cork. I knew what it was. She had taught me as much. Widow’s Tears.

  Her gaze caught mine, steady and unwavering. “If things start to go badly, take it before the guards reach you.” My father tucked his under his doublet. I followed suit. My fear must have been written on my face because she took my hand once more. Her voice trembled slightly. “It is a better way to die than they would grant you.” And would protect the cause. That much, she didn’t need to say aloud.

  Before long, we’d arrived at the palace and were met by a small escort of King’s Guard, which did nothing to allay my fears. They led us briskly down the hallways and into the throne room where we were herded down the long golden carpet with alacrity. A makeshift audience filled the room, made up of minor nobles, merchants, and lay people eager to make a good impression on those in power. Glancing around, I met very few sympathetic eyes.

  “Disturbing rumors have reached my ears,” Amenon’s voice rolled over us as we made our obeisance. The King slouched in his chair with an expression of marked displeasure, the censer smoking at his feet. “My decree was perfectly clear, was it not?” Solomon hovered behind the throne, black eyes watching. Selice was nowhere to be seen. Soldiers in white uniform surrounded us, their armor rattling quietly as they shifted.
I gauged their distance from where we stood: three good paces, maybe four. It would be nearly impossible to consume our vials before they reached us.

  We straightened, and it was my father who responded on behalf of our House. “It was, Your Majesty.” His voice rang out strong and fearless in the massive marble chamber.

  Amenon scowled at him tiredly. “And am I, or am I not, King?”

  Terror gripped me. He knows.

  My father didn’t even blink. “Of course.”

  Eyelids fluttered over pools of deep brass. “Yet you blatantly disobey my laws?”

  “I think we both know they are not your laws.”

  Solomon stepped forward from the shadows. “It was from His Majesty’s own lips, before this very Court, that he declared this city for Al’Rahim.”

  My father’s angry glare settled on the white-robed Persican. “I will be judged by my king, not you, snake.”

  “Solomon is my Royal Advisor, Damien. You will show him the same respect you would me.” He paused, brass eyes considering. “Though lately, that seems to be very little.”

  I saw his fortitude falter. So did my mother, who stepped forward to take the lead. “House Lazerin has always been loyal to the blood of Adulil.”

  Amenon tilted his head at her, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “You have a strange way of showing it.”

  She spread her hands in a harmless gesture. “We are people of the Old Ways, sire. We cannot be other.”

  “Then you will be as much elsewhere,” he snapped.

  Hope and panic commingled in my breast. Perhaps we would not die here, but to be exiled from the city made our next steps significantly more difficult.

  “My lord,” my father spoke up, having recovered his resolve.

  “Enough, Damien,” Amenon cut him off sharply. “The only reason you are not in irons is because of the history between us.” His dull eyes, ringed with dark circles and madness, scanned the three of us. Anger and betrayal creased his brow, curling his lip. “If you cannot abide by my laws, get out of my city. You are exiled to Laezon until further notice. Be gone from Litheria before sundown tomorrow, or be imprisoned for disloyalty.” He stood abruptly, and we bowed low. “Go back to your forests and your traitorous gods.”

  The carriage ride home was rife with relief and tension both. We were alive, but our precarious gambit was in dire jeopardy. I watched my father barely containing his grief at the bitter encounter with his friend. My mother’s eyes drifted somewhere far away, mind churning through the possibilities of our next move. Mine was frozen, numb in the face of catastrophe so narrowly avoided.

  It was midday by the time we returned. After a quick meal, we shut ourselves into the study and debated. We could sneak back into the city, yes, in time to make our appearance at the King’s public audience. Our allies, though, had to be warned, lest they believe we had returned to Laezon and abandoned our cause. Letters had to be sent to every House, but which ones? Someone among our company had betrayed us to the King. We could find out, but it would take time, and time was not something we had in great supply. In the end, we resolved to limit our missives to a vague reassurance of our continued dedication to the cause, despite our exile. In the weeks before Selice’s natality, we would seek out the traitor and deal with them before our final play.

  Our letters had to be delivered that night, under cover of darkness. All the King’s eyes would be on us the next day, to ensure we took our leave of the city before sundown. There wasn’t enough time to send for Tommy, and we couldn’t trust that our household staff wouldn’t be intercepted.

  “I’ll take them.” My voice sounded surer than I felt. “I’m going to Aubrey’s anyway. He could help.”

  “No,” my mother shook her head. “Amenon knows Augustus is loyal to us. They will be watching him.”

  “Then I’ll take them all myself,” I pressed. It made sense. This message would be the most dangerous we’d ever sent. A hired courier could be persuaded to leave the letter with any indiscreet household servant, or they might be intercepted by city guard. I could tell if I was being watched, or followed. I knew, at least in theory, how to slip a tail in a crowd and disappear. I could be invisible. That was what we needed.

  “No.” She was adamant. “I’ll not risk you. You’ll go see Aubrey and take the message to them. Be home before nightfall.” In the end, she sent Gabe to ride hell-for-leather to Dockside with a letter for Tommy. I left for the Chamberlain manor alone.

  Augustus’ face fell when I told him of our morning audience. Aubrey listened carefully to my parents’ instructions, keen eyes soaking up every word. I answered their questions as best I could. When his father finally relented and took his leave, my friend sank into his chair and dropped his face into his hands.

  Concerned, I crossed to him and knelt at his feet. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have involved you.”

  “No,” came his muffled protest. He lifted his gaze to me, a soft smile on his face. “I only wish I could’ve done more.”

  “You warned us of Hydrax. That is more than enough.”

  “How do you do it?” he asked, shaking his head. “I’ve only known for a day, and I feel like my chest is about to burst.” One hand clutched at his tunic. “The uncertainty, the fear of it all, it’s suffocating.”

  A soft laugh escaped my lips. “Treason isn’t for everyone, Aubrey. You’re too honest a man for this sort of thing.”

  “And where is your honest man?” he toyed with the sapphire ring on my finger. “The one who should be helping you shoulder all of this.”

  My heart ached. I wished I knew, myself. “When he comes, if I’m gone, tell him what’s happened here.”

  He considered me a moment, then nodded. We talked quietly for a while longer, revisiting old memories to lighten our spirits. It was good to have a respite from the burden of knowledge, if only for a moment. When the sun sank low in the sky, I bid my dearest friend farewell and made my way home.

  Mother stood in the foyer, confronting a breathless Gabe with a letter in her hand. She looked to me, the panic clear in her eyes. I snatched the missive from her grasp.

  I’ve already lost three of my boys to your schemes. No more. You’re on your own.

  Tommy’s handwriting.

  No couriers were coming.

  My nostril twitched angrily and I handed her the letter as I rushed for the stairs.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To change.”

  Shera was busy packing my trunk when I burst through the door. Once she realized what I was about, she helped locate my breeches and tunic, along with my armaments. She buckled my sword belt onto my hips as I fastened the Freyjan shield onto my left arm and pulled my sleeve down over it.

  My parents were waiting in the main hall when I made my way back down the steps. There was no point in arguing. It needed to be done. My mother handed me the pouch of letters, each one identical. Eight letters, eight Houses, eight stops.

  “Be careful,” she said quietly, eyes meeting mine.

  After helping me into my dark wool cloak, my father nodded his reassurance, and I left. James was tending to the horses when I hurried purposefully into the stable. Valor stirred in his stall as I approached.

  “What are you doing out this late?” James questioned with concern in his voice.

  I saddled my dappled stallion as quickly as I could manage. “I have to run a few errands.”

  He set down his bucket, brows knitting. “You shouldn’t go alone. Let me come with you.”

  “No.” I kept my voice steady, firm. I forced myself to give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m staying within the noble quarter.”

  He nodded doubtfully but knew me well enough to leave it alone.

  When I’d finished with Valor’s tack, I tucked the pouch of letters into his saddlebag and led him out into the courtyard. James followed, watching silently as I climbed into the saddle, the moon rising overhead. He h
eld the gate for me and I raced out into the night. I didn’t feel the sharp bite of early winter in the air, only the driving terror that drummed in my chest as my mount’s hooves clattered on the cobblestones.

  House Therus was the first I visited, wanting to test my courier’s hand on an already amenable recipient. The gate guard admitted me readily and Leon met me in the foyer, his beautiful face marred with worry.

  “Elivya, my gods, are you alright?”

  I held out the letter. “You and your father must read this in private. Burn it afterward.”

  He looked at it cautiously for a moment before taking it. I spared him a weak smile before begging off and slipping back out the door.

  Not every visit was so easy. As the evening grew late, gate guards began to refuse me entry. It was only after much insistence that I eventually managed to convince them to check with their lords. Once admitted, my delivery was quickly done, but I wasted precious time arguing with servants and soldiers who asserted repeatedly that they would deliver my missive themselves. Others demanded I return at a more appropriate hour.

  I saved Oristei House for last. I’d an inkling that Reyus kept late hours, a suspicion that was soundly confirmed when his chamberlain ushered me into his study well past midnight. Pale green eyes looked up at me from his desk. He set his quill aside as he evaluated my attire, my disheveled appearance, the final letter in my hand.

  “What’s happened,” he demanded.

  “The tide has shifted. We’ve been exiled from Litheria.” I was exhausted and relieved to be on my last delivery. “I’ve a letter for you.” I crossed the small room to set it on the desk before him. “Be sure to burn it once you’ve read it.”

  “This is not my first rebellion, young Lazerin,” he replied dryly as he cracked the seal and scanned its contents. I turned to leave, my task complete. “Wait,” he stopped me, raising one hand.

  “I really must go, my lord.”

  He finished reading and turned his intimidating gaze on me. “Tell me this, and tell me honestly: are we betrayed?”