Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy Book 1)

by Rachel Higginson

  I breathed out and tried not to look too relieved. “Thank you, Uncle.”

  He motioned for a guard. “I will send out the notice tonight. My riders will not stop until all eight kingdoms have been summoned. Until then you will stay under my protection. A full guard detail will stay with you, day and night. And the crown will remain in my possession.”

  “No.” A hysterical laugh bubbled out of me. “Absolutely not.”

  He glared at me, a low growl tinging his threat. “Well it cannot stay with you only for you to disappear in the dead of night. How foolish do you think I am?”

  “How can I escape if your guards are with me day and night?”

  “It can stay with me,” Taelon stepped in. “I can be the unbiased third party.”

  I nearly rolled my eyes at his use of the word, “unbiased,” but I figured that was bad form for serious negotiations.

  Tyrn stared at Taelon as if trying to figure him out. “I assume you would like to avoid war as much as I would?”

  “More so,” Taelon agreed.

  “Alright,” Tyrn agreed. “It stays with the crown prince of Soravale, but only because Conandra has already been called.”

  “Fair enough,” Taelon agreed.

  He held his hand out, but even to this man I trusted so fully, I had a hard time handing over the crown. The second Taelon held it, I wanted it back.

  Tyrn’s voice pulled me from my panic. “I know you understand what happens if you win the council, girl. But do you comprehend your fate should you lose?”

  “Dungeons,” I answered him. “For the rest of my life.”

  His smile revealed a madness that terrified me. “And I shall do my very best to make sure your life stretches as long as it can.”

  I gathered my courage and met his pale blue gaze. “It’s good to be home, Uncle.” I curtsied low.

  “Crenshaw!” my uncle demanded. “Show these imposters to their rooms.”

  24

  Crenshaw, a man that reminded me alarmingly of my uncle, deposited me in my rooms as he was told.

  Unlike in Soravale, alone in my chambers felt truly alone. Oliver wasn’t just across the corridor. Taleon wouldn’t be sneaking into my bedroom. I was finally home and truly isolated for the first time since I could remember.

  Still dirty from traveling, I pulled off my boots, retrieved Shiksa from my satchel, and curled up in the center of the large bed. She pressed against me, offering comfort that I desperately needed. She mewled her hunger, but there was nothing I could give her.

  I had ensured that we were now prisoners in the very place that should have welcomed me with open arms. My uncle’s greed clawed at my gut. Taelon had been right. Hugo had been right. There was darkness to Tyrn that could not be easily explained. And it was not born from grief of losing his family.

  I shivered in the chill of the room. The fire had not been lit, nor had the candelabra. The light from the windows faded from gray to black, and eventually Shiksa and I had to wiggle beneath the thick quilts to keep our teeth from chattering.

  Finally sleep found me and with it, the nightmares I was so accustomed to. Only in the place where I had witnessed my family’s deaths, they were more vivid.

  I dreamed of the moments before Taelon and I stumbled upon the bodies. Of how he made me laugh and smile until my cheeks hurt. And then we turned a corner and horror stripped all happiness from me.

  In my dream, the blood rose up to my ankles, coating bare feet with sticky crimson. My brothers lay with severed heads and open, sightless eyes. My mother’s hand reached out as if her corpse stretched to touch me. My father’s sword sat untouched, useless in the hilt at his hip. And this time, there was not one raven perched in the window, but a legion of them.

  They circled the exaggerated ceiling, swooping down to peck at the bodies. They filled the windows, cawing and screaming to each other.

  The air smelled of bloodshed and despair, but something more this time. There was smoke drifting from across the corridor, curls of wispy black floating from a cracked doorway. There was a spicy thickness to it that felt vaguely familiar.

  A raven landed on my father’s chest, holding my gaze before snapping its beak down to peck at his eyes. I screamed when a figure appeared in the doorway, framed by smoke. The incense began choking me. My screams faded into coughs. I doubled over, desperate for clean air.

  I watched boots move toward me. I lifted my head, determined to find the identity of my family’s murderer. Instead, blinding light flashed through the room, covering the bodies on the ground and causing the birds to flee. The boots shifted backward, retreating from the bright light, and before I could brace for it to hit me, I woke, startled and covered in sweat.

  I lay on my back, clutching at the sheets while Shiksa moved to my chest so she could lick my chin. I shivered and pulled her into the nook of my arm, trying to hold on to the slipping fragments of my dream.

  That strange scent filled my head again and when I inhaled I could have sworn I smelled it in my room. I lifted my head and looked around. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but there was nothing to see. No smoke-filled doorways, or dead loved ones. And yet I had the sense that I was not alone.

  I lay awake for quite a while before I found sleep again. And when at last I drifted away, I had the strangest desire for Cavolian stew.

  The next day, breakfast was brought to my room by Matilda, my servant from Soravale. She was to attend me through the trial. I was grateful for a familiar face.

  When the afternoon meal was brought, I was informed that I would be joining my uncle for supper. Conandra or not, Crenshaw explained, King Tyrn was both benevolent and gracious. It would be an honor for me to dine with him.

  I didn’t believe a word of it.

  I accepted the invitation because I had no other choice, but also, I wanted to spend time with my uncle. I wanted to look into his eyes and see the exact shade of his darkness.

  If he had weaknesses, I would find them. If he had secrets, I would discover them. If he wanted to treat my claim to the throne as treason, then I would treat his in the same way.

  Matilda had called for my trunks to be delivered first thing in the morning. By the time Crenshaw appeared to escort me to supper, she had dressed me in my finest Soravalian gown and styled my hair with extra care.

  Crenshaw’s ugly, narrow face poked into the room without knocking. Instant fury boiled beneath my skin. His behavior was deplorable. “Let’s go,” he ordered.

  I followed him from the room, marching behind him like a prisoner. I could have found my way to the dining room without help. Despite the length of my absence, my familiarity with the palace returned swiftly.

  When we reached the dining hall, white doors with golden swirls were pushed open and a herald announced my arrival. To my surprise, my uncle stood from where he sat at the head of an elaborate table.

  Tyrn was not alone, but I recognized no one that sat with him. Three other men stood at my appearance, but the only woman remained seated.

  My uncle’s face pinched in a sneer as he said, “My long-lost niece, please join us.”

  I moved around Crenshaw to take my place across from my uncle. I was not naïve enough to believe this place had been set in my honor. It was given to me more out of mockery than anything else.

  No one spoke until the first course, a cold root soup with clotted cream, had been served. Without a word, Tyrn took a bite, giving the rest of us permission to eat. I reached for my spoon, willing my fingers to stop trembling. As I took my first sip, I felt my uncle’s stare boring into me.

  “My advisors,” Tyrn announced at last. “Lord Berwick and Lord Glaust,” he nodded to my right at two pompous looking men. To the man to my left, he said, “My first general, General Leffenmore. And his wife, Lady Leffenmore.”

  I placed my spoon in my soup and nodded, “It is an honor to dine with you.”

  “You will recognize none of them, of course,” Tyrn continued. “As any person in yo
ur father’s employ or council had to be put to death. I couldn’t trust any of them. I’m sure you understand.”

  I focused on swallowing that news. My hands trembled and fury bubbled within me, but I could neither scream nor cry in front of these people. Instead, I forced calm into my voice. “Do you have reason to believe that any of those punished were responsible for my family’s murders?”

  Tyrn held my gaze. The candlelight between us illuminated the madness dancing in his pale blue eyes. “I do not need reason. I am King.”

  My gaze fell to my soup. I had lost my appetite, but I could not look at my uncle for another second.

  One of the lords, I couldn’t remember which, bent forward and slapped the table with his hand. “Here, here.”

  General Leffenmore leaned in as well and declared, “And long may you reign, my King.”

  My uncle’s mouth tilted in a cruel smile. “I do not think my niece agrees, gentlemen. She is, after all, here to take my crown.”

  There did not seem to be an appropriate answer, so I held my tongue.

  “You are sure that she is indeed your niece?” Lady Leffenmore asked with a bored lilt to her tone. “She appears from nowhere with a highly hunted for crown and we are to assume she is the heir to a throne that has not been in the Allisand family for eight years.”

  “That is why Conandra was called, my dear,” “General Leffenmore explained. “The trial will get to the bottom of this business. The truth will be exposed.”

  Servants appeared and switched our soup bowls for plates of cheese and sliced meat garnished with squares of toast and oxtail butter.

  “Are you not afraid, Child?” Lady Leffenmore asked as she slathered her cheese with butter and green jam. “This trial is serious business. Your life is at risk and for what? Because you want to be recognized as the lost princess? Because you want to be reinstated to palace life? I pray to the Light you know what you are doing.”

  My voice rose. “I am well aware of the risk, Lady Leffenmore. The truth will indeed be found out. I have no reason to fear it.” The table livened with the rumbling of the lords and general. My uncle did not voice his opinion, but neither did he take his eyes from me. “And as for palace life, I was quite content at the monastery I came from. Their way of living is more natural to me than anything the palace can offer. So, you see, I am not here for luxury or notoriety.”

  “One does wonder why you are here then,” my uncle mused. “After all these years, what made you leave the shadows of your secret life? Why now?”

  I looked around at the men serving Tyrn and felt disgust join my rage. “It was time, Uncle. I did not leave the palace with the intent to live my life in secrecy. My home is here. My life belongs to Elysia.”

  “So why not stay in Elysia to begin with? Why let the kingdom and the realm believe you to be dead?” Tyrn’s eyes flashed with frustration.

  “My life was in danger,” I insisted. Nerves shivered through me as I realized that returning still might mean death. I looked at my uncle, “Whoever killed my family, wanted all of us dead. Every last Allisand. You cannot deny this.”

  His stare did not waver, “I cannot.”

  The next course was served- roasted boar with summer yams and turnip puree. Conversation died while everyone tasted their dinner. I pushed food around my plate and tried not to be sick.

  “Where is Prince Taelon?” I asked at last. “Is he still in residence?”

  My uncle enjoyed another large bite of boar before he replied. “No, I do not believe he is. Something of a business nature took him away.”

  My supper settled in my stomach like a pile of bricks. Taelon was gone. He’d left me alone with an uncle that would prefer me dead.

  I thought of Oliver. “Did his staff leave as well?”

  Tyrn sighed and it seemed to shake the entire table. “No, they did not. He left them behind to dwindle my resources and fill up my guest rooms.”

  At least Oliver had not also abandoned me.

  Wine was served during the third course. I declined, but everyone else partook. While the men managed to drink theirs in moderation, Lady Leffenmore filled her glass three times before dessert was served.

  Flushed and glassy-eyed, she looked at me over her bread pudding and asked, “Even if you are who you say you are, what gives you the right to the throne? You’re a girl. An ugly, abandoned, cursed girl.”

  My uncle’s low chuckle was followed by his mild reprimand. “Franca,” he scolded. “She is my guest.”

  “She’s trying to take your throne,” Lady Leffenmore insisted. “And your crown.”

  I could hold my tongue no longer. It would not help to be polite to these dreadful people. “The throne Tyrn sits upon does not belong to him. And when the council decides that I am who I say I am, Tyrn may keep his worthless crown. I have my own.”

  The table fell silent. I felt the glares of my fellow diners burn against my skin, but I focused on Tyrn.

  His voice scraped the air. “We shall see what the council decides, Tessana, about you and your crown.” Before I could make any retort, my uncle continued, “I think you’ve had enough excitement for the evening, Niece. You look tired.” He turned in his seat and ordered, “Crenshaw, take my guest back to her room.”

  Crenshaw appeared in the doorway. With a short curtsy that took all my grit, I left the meal without looking back.

  When we were near my room, I finally found the courage to speak. “Crenshaw, tonight at supper, I met my uncle’s general.”

  He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Do you have a point?”

  “I assumed you were his general.”

  I caught his sneer before he faced forward once again. “I am the Master of the Guard.”

  “Ah.”

  He stopped at my door. “The King trusts me completely.”

  “I have no doubt that is true.”

  “Again, what is your point?”

  I stepped through the door to my room and turned to face him. “I’m just trying to understand the order of things.”

  He leaned forward, menace twisting his features. “Be careful, girl. You are not equipped for palace intrigue. I would hate to see something happen to you should you try your hand at it.”

  I lifted my chin defiantly. “I am not interested in palace intrigue. I am interested in the throne that belongs to me.”

  His lips spread in an arrogant smile. “They are the same thing.”

  I shut the door without another word and pressed my back against it. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath and my head spun with all that had happened tonight. Crenshaw was right.

  I was not equipped for this.

  25

  It had been two weeks.

  My uncle had not invited me to another dinner. I had not seen nor heard from anyone except Matilda since the first night we arrived.

  The days crawled by so slowly, I thought I would die from a combination of nerves and boredom. At least at the temple I’d had daily chores and lessons and people to watch.

  I had only Shiksa in this room. She had developed into a sleek little lady by now. Her coat gleamed as white as ever, but she was becoming more ferocious and harder to keep secret.

  Matilda assured me that Oliver had posed as a Soravalian servant and everyone in Elysia was leaving him well enough alone. I found it ironic that my monk from Heprin could roam the palace freely while I was confined to this room as a prisoner. At least I didn’t have to worry about him.

  Taelon had the crown, but he had not stopped by even once to pay me a visit or update me on my situation. All my information came through Matilda, who heard it second hand from the Elysian staff, who heard it by eavesdropping. There was no way to be certain whether what finally passed to me was true.

  Three mornings ago, Matilda had come barging in the room declaring that the trial was to be delayed several months because the king of Barstus had an unfortunate case of the pig mumps. All day I sat fretting over how I would survive months confined to thi
s room.

  But by evening she had returned to say that no, the Barstus king did not have pig mumps, it was only wished that he had pig mumps by a chambermaid that he had tupped during his last visit.

  My blush had stretched from my cheeks to my toes.

  When I couldn’t stand it for a second longer, I’d asked about Taelon. Matilda had told me that he still wasn’t in residence. And that he hadn’t been for our entire stay. His staff and royal guard had remained, but Taelon had urgent business that required him straightaway.

  Shiksa was curled up on my lap, snoring lazily, when Matilda charged into the room, her hands waving wildly. “They’re here!” she squealed. “They’ve come!”

  I jumped to my feet, ready to retrieve the sword I kept handy. “Who? Who’s here?”

  She ran over to me and with two hands pushed my shoulders until I sat again. I tried to stand up. She applied a surprisingly heavy amount of pressure.

  “Sit!” she ordered. “They’re here! And what if they want to see you now? And you look like this? I cannot have you looking like this if you’re going to leave this room!”

  “What do I look like?”

  I looked down at the nightgown I hadn’t bothered to take off. I’d promised myself a bath at some point today, I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. But I’d brushed my hair this morning.

  Or was that yesterday morning?

  “Ouch!” I tried to squirm from Matilda’s grasp, but she held on tightly by tangling the brush in my impossible hair.

  “Your hair looks like your fox’s nest. Now sit down so I can make you presentable for the kings and queens.”

  “They’re here?” I gasped.

  She harrumphed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

  I tried to sit still, but I was too agitated. “Have you seen them?” I asked breathlessly. My heart took off in a gallop as I realized that the moment I had been equally dreading and anticipating was here. I could finally face the council and explain everything. And they could finally decide my fate.