Seize the Crown

by Gemma Perfect

  “I don’t think I’m a role model, not really.”

  “Well you are. I can see the way she looks at you. She’s so impressed. You are what she wishes to be. Bold and bad despite her curse.”

  “Bold and bad!”

  “You know what I mean. You don’t take any messing off anyone; you can stick up for yourself, defend yourself.”

  “True. But I wish I didn’t have to.”

  They are both silent and then Addyson comes in, grinning and waving her arm at them. “Look, look at this.” There is a smear of white, chalky paste on her arm, covering the fine hairs and tiny freckles.

  Ceryn grins and touches her mark. She’s excited and follows Addyson into Della’s cottage.

  Everleigh is about to follow her when Finn pulls her back. “Are you alright? She was pretty nasty to you there for a bit.”

  “I am. I wasn’t. But I am. I...I know how she feels. We both lost someone we love, and...”

  She trails off, feeling strangely awkward talking about the love she had for Archer in front of Finn. He looks as awkward as she feels and suggests they go next door.

  Della has fetched clothes for Ceryn to change in to. They are a little big but better than the boyish clothing she is wearing. Her face is unrecognisable. Without the mask, you can see she is a girl; a pretty one. She has lovely eyes, which don’t look so fierce and her skin is smooth. The paste has been blended in. Up close it is obvious, but the guards are not likely to notice, if she keeps her head down. They will also be able to approach Cook, with Will’s help, without her losing her mind over Ceryn’s face.

  Ceryn gives Everleigh a hug, and then a longer one to Addyson. “Thank you for coming after me.”

  “Thank you for coming back.”

  “Good luck. And thank you. Lanorie means so much to me. I need her to be safe.”

  “She will be.”

  Lanorie

  SO, COOK HAS GONE AND my mind has gone and I am happy to wait for my life to be gone.

  I might sound dramatic but I am waiting for my death, so I think it’s fair enough.

  I think Everleigh has forgotten me. I have slept here two nights now and I am done.

  The spider is my only friend.

  Tears silently slip from my eyes and I don’t even bother to wipe them away.

  I did eat my breakfast but only because Cook had sent up my favourite. I didn’t want to be rude.

  I lie on my back on the hard bed and watch the spider.

  The tears drip down my face and pool into my ears tickling them.

  I don’t even wipe them away.

  19

  THE WALK BACK TO THE castle is far more pleasant for all three of them than the walk down. It took a while for Ginata to convince Everleigh to stay at the cottage, but she listened eventually, with the promise that Lanorie would be with her by nightfall. Sooner.

  Ceryn and Weaver are armed, but they don’t look like they are. Ginata keeps sneaking looks at Ceryn; without her mask and dressed like a girl, even with her short hair, she looks completely different; free and happy.

  Weaver looks happy too; he strides along, filled with purpose.

  When they reach the castle, Ginata explains where to find Will. If he’s not in his room, they should listen for a laughing crowd, or ask one of the pages. If anyone asks they are friends of Halfreda’s, and are grieving after finding out about her death. Though the castle is often full of strangers, Ginata knows that Millard is on high alert.

  Ginata leaves them and goes to her rooms to wait. Whatever happens next, Millard will be alerted very quickly. If Ceryn and Weaver rescue Lanorie and injure or kill a few guards at the same time, she will know about it. If they fail and get caught, she will know about it. The only absolute is that in the next hour or so Millard is going to be furious about something. And she knows, just in this short time of knowing him, that he likes other people to share in his misery. She will find something to do in her rooms so when he comes he will find her innocent and unaware.

  WILL IS SKIPPING THROUGH the grounds, trying to shake off the guard who is still watching him when he spots Ceryn and Weaver heading towards him. He grins at them and somersaults towards them.

  “Impressive.” Ceryn’s voice is laced with warmth despite the sarcastic comment.

  “I am impressive,” he says with a laugh. “You look different.”

  “I took my mask off.”

  “That was brave.”

  “You think?”

  Will nods, steps closer to her and inspects her face and the white paste. “Do you ever take it off?”

  “Not in public, no.”

  “Very brave then.”

  Ceryn grins and Weaver laughs, patting her on the back. “Can we talk about how brave she is later? We’ve got a rescue to carry out.”

  “A rescue?”

  “Yup. We are going to send Ceryn into the tower and rescue Lanorie.”

  Will hoots and somersaults again. “Woo-hoo. Thank you.”

  “You like her?”

  “I love her. But she doesn’t like me. Not like that.”

  “I know how that feels. I was in love with Archer. Quietly.”

  Will smiles. “We’re losers in love, then, both of us.”

  “We’ll have to be losers together. Maybe after we rescue her, she’ll realise how much she’s missed you?”

  “Maybe. So, what’s the plan?”

  “We need to get Ceryn into the kitchen, we figure the castle cook must know that Lanorie is locked up instead of Addyson. We’ll enlist her help, send Ceryn up the tower.”

  “It’s probably best if I attack the guard upstairs and you get the one downstairs.”

  Weaver nods. “I’ll try to disarm him, knock him out maybe. I’d rather not kill them...”

  “But we can if we need to...”

  “Excuse her, she’s pretty blood thirsty.”

  Will stares at her, her face free of the mask, her eyes sparkling instead of being cloudy with anger, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I kind of like it.”

  Ceryn smiles at him, a blush colouring her cheeks. “Let’s go.”

  Cook is busy icing a cake when they slip into the kitchen. Will gives her a tap on the shoulder. “Cook. We want to rescue Lanorie.”

  “Oh, thank the gods. I thought she would be in there forever. Who are these two?”

  Will introduces them. “We need to send Ceryn up to the tower with food. How long till her meal usually goes up?”

  “Just about a half hour. What’s on her face?”

  Ceryn steps closer, holding out her cheek for inspection. “I have a mark. It’s nothing to do with the devil.”

  “Course it’s bloody not. What nonsense. Are people scared of you?”

  “Usually.”

  “Poor thing. Well, I’m not and I’ll be happy to help you. That poor girl is falling apart in there by herself.”

  “Thanks Cook.”

  “As if I wouldn’t have helped. You’ll need to keep your head down though; we need to make sure the guard doesn’t notice your face.”

  “I know. Thank you for not being frightened.”

  Cook snorts. “There’s some nasty people in this world, happy to blame others for their own evil, I’m not one of those. That mark is nothing to do with the devil or anyone else. Ridiculous. Now what have I got for you three...” She moves around the kitchen finding little scraps of deliciousness for them: little cakes, nutty bread, pastries, tarts. By the time they are ready for Ceryn to head to the tower, disguised as a little maid, they are all stuffed.

  “Are you nervous?” Will asks them both. “Our rescue plans haven’t worked so far.”

  “I’m not nervous at all,” Weaver says, checking his sword is ready at his side, hidden but there.

  “I love a good fight.” Ceryn’s eyes are gleaming and Will knows she’s telling the truth. She’s got spirit, this one.

  “Ready?” Cook hands Ceryn the tray and Will can see her hands aren’t shaking
at all. Weaver kisses her forehead. “Be safe.”

  She walks alone to the tower, head down, tray steady.

  Will stays in the kitchen with Cook, but Weaver makes his way slowly across the courtyard.

  The guard barely glances at Ceryn but knocks on the tower door before unlocking it. He moves so she can walk past.

  She walks up the stairs, breathing steady, hands steady, imagining how this will go down. What she’ll say, what she’ll do. If this handmaiden is even worth all of this trouble. She supposes if Everleigh likes her, that’s enough. It’s what Archer would have done, and that is her new benchmark, her gauge of what’s right or wrong.

  The second guard is as conscientious as the first, namely not at all. He unlocks the prisoner’s door without looking up and Ceryn slips inside the door. She puts the tray down and looks the girl up and down. She’s pretty plain looking. Thin and miserable looking, actually, but that could be because of where she is. “I’m Ceryn. A friend of Archer’s. I’m here to get you out.”

  Lanorie rushes towards her and wraps her arms around her, shaking and crying, whispering: “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Really?”

  Ceryn stands stock still not returning the hug; she doesn’t like strangers touching her. In fact, they never do.

  Lanorie pulls back. “Ooh, what’s wrong with your face?”

  Ceryn grimaces, thinking how charmless this girl is. Why Will is in love with her, she can’t imagine. He seems such a lovely chap.

  “They call it the devil’s mark.”

  Lanorie shrinks back and Ceryn loses her temper. “Listen, girl, everyone is worried about you, for some reason. Everleigh can’t wait for you to be safe, for some reason. I’m your only hope. If you think I’m too scary and I might eat you while you’re looking the other way, I’m happy to leave you here.”

  Lanorie shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen anything like it before.”

  “Forget about it. Are you ready?”

  “I think so. I’m scared.”

  “Well, don’t be. I’ll sort out the guard, you just run.”

  “Where do I go?”

  “Just out. I’m here with my friend Weaver. We’ll take you somewhere safe. Ready?”

  Lanorie shakes her head, but Ceryn knocks on the door anyway. The second the guard swings it open, she leaps forward, lifting her arm up and smashing his nose. He screams and reaches for his sword, quick in spite of the shock attack, but she’s quicker than he is, ready for a fight. She slashes his sword arm, just a surface wound but enough to make him shriek and drop his sword. In all fairness, none of Millard’s guards are used to real fighting and he would never have been expecting a little kitchen maid to start slashing around with a sword.

  She pushes Lanorie past him and tells her to run.

  The guard closes his eyes and she grins. She hasn’t hurt him very much, but he has obviously decided that it’s not worth his life to keep fighting.

  She barrels down the stairs, catching up with Lanorie. Outside of the door, the other guard is flat on his back an egg-shaped bump on his forehead, but no blood shed. Weaver is standing there grinning, bouncing on his feet. “Let’s go.”

  Lanorie stands stock still, but they each grab an arm and start running.

  Ginata

  I HAVE PACED MY ROOM until I fear I will wear a groove into the floor. I cannot stay here. I am just waiting for Millard. Either furious that Everleigh’s managed to get one over on him or gleeful that she’s failed somehow. I cannot bear either of those men tonight and so after checking I am not being followed I flee to the cottages.

  Everyone there is as anxious as I am, but there is something good in sharing those anxieties together. Upsets are always worse when we are alone, after all.

  Della is fussing over us all, but mostly Addyson. Finn is pacing. Everleigh is sitting with her knees drawn up, watching the door obsessively. I bite my nails – a new habit, a grubby one. We all have our ways of dealing with stress.

  I feel good about this rescue attempt, though. Ceryn is an angry young woman, but a fighter through and through. Weaver is one of the easiest going souls I’ve ever encountered but I can tell he’s a fighter too. I think they’ll do it.

  We hear Lanorie before we see her; loud protests that her feet hurt, her arms hurt from them pulling her, she’s too tired to go one more step, she’s too hungry to move.

  Everleigh jumps up, laughing with delight at the grumpy moaning from her handmaiden. She opens the door and runs along the path, catching Lanorie as she collapses into her arms, both crying. “Oh, Everleigh. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  I find myself wiping a little tear away too. It feels better with all of us being safe. Though I know the fury this will awaken in our new King. I’m not looking forward to seeing him later.

  “Thank them. Not me.”

  Lanorie doesn’t move from Everleigh’s side though, her tears soaking her dress. Ceryn rolls her eyes and strides over to Addyson, ruffling her hair. Weaver collapses onto the grass, a groan rushing out of him.

  “Was it awful?” Addyson asks them both.

  “The worst bit,” Ceryn says, gesturing at Lanorie, “was getting this moany lump away from the castle before Millard’s hounds came looking for us.”

  I cannot help the burst of laughter that rushes out of my mouth and I laugh harder when Lanorie shoots me a furious look, a look full of anger and then a split second later pitiful misery. She is crying again, and I stifle my laugh when Everleigh looks at me, a reproachful look on her lovely face. She knows this girl’s flaws well enough but loves her regardless.

  I feel almost lightheaded; the fear that Millard would find Addyson gone and take my life because of my part in it, is over. While Lanorie was locked away I knew that Millard could find his sister missing any second and I would get the blame and the punishment. Now Lanorie is safe, so are we all, to an extent.

  The silliness spreads through me and I scoop Lanorie into a big cuddle, kissing her hair and then making a face at the smell of her.

  “A clean up?” Della asks, ever the mother.

  I nod and am laughing again. Everleigh taps my arm. “Are you quite alright?”

  I sober up as Della tucks her arm around Lanorie and takes her through to her cottage with Addyson tagging along behind them. Della will heat up some water and clean her up, dress her in clean clothes; she is wearing Addyson’s beautiful dress now and it’s scruffy and dirty. Her hair needs washing and brushing out; it’s full of knots.

  “I’m good. I just don’t think I realised how scared I’ve been of your brother finding Addyson missing and killing me. I think it just hit me.”

  Everleigh nods and I think about Saturday. Making her Queen, betraying my King; a sudden and unbidden jolt of guilt hits me and I shake my head, literally shaking it off. I am happy and ready to do it, and I’m not doing anything wrong, not really. Only a few more days of pretending that I admire and serve him and then we’ll all be free.

  I smile as I think about how giddy I’ll feel then. How much lighter we will all feel when this is over.

  Ceryn and Weaver give us a rundown of the great rescue, and it hits me again how furious Millard will be when I see him later.

  I decide to stay here as long as I can, enjoying the talking, the laughing, the moaning – off Lanorie – and the camaraderie of it all. I will put off meeting my King for as long as I can.

  20

  GINATA EVENTUALLY LEAVES the warm friendliness of her cottage and heads back to the castle. She is nervous and walks slowly, wondering how Millard will be, will he be sad and hard done by or will he be icily furious or maybe unhinged, axe swinging?

  She has no way of knowing and the closer she gets to the castle, her current home, the bigger her urge is to run away. Why did she have to get caught up in all this drama? Damn Macsen, Everleigh’s dead brother. He was the one who got her roped into this when he came to her door looking for a death draught.

  She keeps her head dow
n as she walks to her rooms. Maybe she will have some peace, maybe she won’t see Millard until later, at supper. Maybe he doesn’t even know yet.

  Turning the handle and pushing her door open, she feels her knees buckle and the blood drain from her face; Millard is standing there and she can feel the icy fury from across the room. She steadies her legs, hidden under her long skirt, and smiles widely at him before bowing low. She closes her eyes and in that brief second instils calmness into her mind.

  “My King.” She is pleased not to hear even a slight tremble to her words.

  “Addyson’s gone.” His voice is harsh, but not accusing, which can only be a good thing.

  “Gone where?” Feigning innocence is the only answer.

  “My two guards were attacked and left for dead. She’s gone.”

  Ginata closes her eyes. “She is alive,” she says, trying to sound mystical.

  “I don’t care if she’s alive or dead. I just need to know where she is and who took her. Who helped her? Who helped my sister. Who is in cahoots with her?”

  She shrugs and makes her face show concern and finds that she feels a tiny bit sorry for him. In his head, he’s a good King, who only killed his brother to stop himself being killed, only killed Halfreda because she defended his sister, only killed Archer because he fought him. In his head, he is hard done by and she can see all that from the expression on his face; he doesn’t hide his emotions very well. A little bit of her wants to pat his cheek, tell him it will all be fine, if only everyone would stop being so mean to him.

  “My King, if I knew, I would absolutely help you. You know I would.”

  “No one is helping me. Wolf is useless; he has searched the castle and beyond but cannot find her. Brett has been gone all morning. Everleigh’s handmaiden’s still missing as well. I am watching the stupid fool but all he does is prance around the castle looking like a bigger idiot than he is. You are no help. You see nothing. You know nothing. And now Addyson is gone. I am King. Why won’t anybody help me!”