by Talis Jones
“If they are to have no kingdom from which to rule, then where will they rule? To reside in one kingdom over another would show preference and partiality,” Aashiq pointed out.
Cassandra smiled patiently. “They will reside here.”
Aashiq frowned but made no protest though Henri's eyes widened. “Here?”
“Yes, Henri. Here.” She looked between them. “It is neutral land, is it not? What better location for the impartial Crown to dwell?”
“Why would we ever surrender our rule to another? It would be silly to willingly allow any above us,” Aashiq argued.
Cassandra refrained from pointing out that they'd already made such a decision when they submitted to the new hierarchy with Rajahs at the head. “You would be surrendering no rule,” she clarified. “So long as you keep your fingers out of someone else's pie and make no decrees that would intentionally harm the Island, then the Crown is of little thought to you. They hold power over all three kingdoms, yes, but not at their whim.” She gave them a smile that said the logic was obvious. “It is a safety measure more than anything else. What good is a kingdom that's been shattered by war and greed? Unless you hold plans the rest of us are unaware of...”
Aashiq scoffed.
Henri seemed relieved by the idea. He had a good heart and pure intentions, yet ruling a people proved a responsibility he hadn't adequately anticipated. The pressure bore down heavily on his do-gooder conscience and any opportunity to pass some of the responsibility onto another was welcome. “I have no argument against it. With only the welfare of the people and their futures in heart, the concept of a peacekeeper seems rather perfect.”
“Trust nothing painted as perfect,” Aashiq advised yet he could see in this instance he may have to. With both Quidel and Aztlan on the same side, they could turn against him in every decision unless he evened the ground between them with this Crown. “Wait,” he halted, his eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Who is this all powerful Crown to be?”
Cassandra faced him, her expression indecipherable. “Me.”
Henri nodded as if the thought made sense though he worried, “You will rule as both Rajah of Quidel and the Crown? Does this not lead to the bias the Crown is supposed to resolve?”
“And why you?” Aashiq demanded. “Why not Henri or myself?”
“I will not retain my title as Rajah once I take the Crown, of course,” Cassandra explained. “As for why I select myself, well, would either of you have the strength of stomach and spirit to rule as the Crown and weigh justice and punishment in either palm?” She gazed at Henri knowing he would never challenge her for a role that spoke of added pressure. The poor man looked as if he created enough pressure upon himself with his current position and had quickly built himself a council of twenty with which to share the work. “Would either of you be willing to give up a kingdom to dwell in solitude upon cursed ground?” At this she glared knowingly at Aashiq whom despite proving himself to be a fair leader, could not deny he enjoyed the rich rewards of such a position just as much.
“Why would you give up so much?” The Llryian Rajah asked quietly. “You built Quidel from the ashes and yet you offer to throw it aside into some stranger's care?”
Cassandra fixed him with an honest smile. “My campaign from the start was for Jourdies to rule themselves. A Jourdie will take the Quidelish throne as it should be. I am a Whisper and am duty-bound to fill my calling to keep peace within the Island and as Crown I will fulfill this. Unlike the other Whispers, I believe in this new age. I never wanted to eliminate the Whispers, only give each form a place. Whispers to guard, Weepys to dream, and Jourdies to live.”
Aashiq grunted a small laugh. “You frighten me with your foresight at times, Cassandra. You plot and weave within games we can only hope to guess at, don't you?”
Cassandra grinned cockily. “Except on Tuesdays.”
The three laughed then sobered as their attention returned to the documents waiting upon the table. Henri picked up the pen and signed each copy of the treaty, letting slip a sigh as he did so. Stepping back his face already looked less strained. Aashiq remained wary of the woman's charisma and how it tangled his thoughts leaving only a need to get closer. Even so he could not fight the treaty with Aztlan and Quidel already so aligned. Her words had made sense, her manner honest and open. Any further argument was pure stubbornness, a quality he knew he had in abundance. Signing his name to the treaty that would officially establish the Crown of Oneiroi he felt a flicker of dread, but it was gone so quickly he could not even recall what it was that had caused it.
With only honor-bound duty cloaking her face, Cassandra took the pen last and signed the papers before rolling up the copy of the treaty Quidel would take with them. The ink dried and the magic within it took root. Without wasting time on lengthy farewells, she turned heel and departed. Immediately closing ranks around her the Quidelish guard marched in time to her heartbeat, her blood flowing with triumph, blood that marked Quidel's veins.
Suddenly she paused. “Gerard,” she called. The man stepped forward with a grin just as boastful as if he'd been the one crowned.
“Ja, mi suverenya?”
“Thank you for your service.” With that she raised her arm and flicked her wrist sending a thin blade of ice across his throat.
Gerard gasped, then the blood began to cascade and he collapsed as his body gave a few final jerks before succumbing to whatever destination stole his soul next. Turning 'round she continued away from the dais and the decision it had witnessed. Surprise painted every face yet her soldiers hurried to shake themselves and follow their Crown. In the distance Henri and Aashiq stood side by side agape as a chill sunk into their bones and they watched the monster to whom they'd signed their souls disappear into the horizon.
In a panic Aashiq turned to Henri to inform him of their need to join ranks for they had to disband the Crown before it could begin, to stand together against the witch that tricked them. His body turned, his mouth opened, yet he found he could form no scheme against her. Suspicion dawned on him and he reached for the ink yet the moment his fingers touched the little glass bottle it burst into shards of ice slicing his palm before soothing it with its melted tears. Magic. Fear took root in his chest, slow but all consuming for he knew there would be no turning against the Crown, their allegiance was bound. Kingdoms and Rajahs could rise and fall, but the Crown would remain above them all. A loophole, a counter-curse must be found, but for now... Aashiq could only watch the shadows that had swallowed the woman and wonder what move she would play next.
Chapter 36
Cassandra sat on a bench built against her bedroom window and gazed at the blood dribbling from her wrist. The blood oath upon which she'd forced Quidel's hand had been her cleverest experiment but at last she had a new one ready to be invoked. With only the light of the moon and a bright candle to see by, with only herself and the night's soft whispers as witness, she sacrificed the last of her magic placing a curse upon her blood threading its ruby red flow with a black that devoured light and she watched as it slowly retreated back within her veins. A sight that made even her own spine shudder.
The prophecy always consumed a hall of her mind. Her twin was coming and whether threat or ally, she would ensure that no one could take her power away. She'd brought Aztlan, Llyr, and Quidel into an unbreakable contract that even their ancestors would be forced to honor. Not even the Whispers could dissolve the subservience any ruler would feel towards the Crown and the Jourdies would be damned if they allowed the Whispers to pry their new freedom to self-govern away from them.
Or at least...it would force the allegiance of the Rajah's to her blood, blood that would run in the veins of every Crown. A sudden chilling thought halted her breath as she wondered if her twin's shared blood might give them a parallel path to serve, a loophole out of her command… No, it wouldn't work...would it? Uncertainty drew a cold finger down her spine and she recoiled from the unsettling buzz now threatening her thoughts. Well th
e simplest solution would be to lie in wait for her twin and kill them at first glance. Take no chances.
The prophecy may demand three Crowns to fall before absolute victory could be had, but she'd make damn sure in the end she would survive with it all. Crown of all Oneiroi, Rajah of Quidel, Whisper of the Island, Victor of the Revolution, and last twin standing. No one would hurt her. No one would accuse her of anything but greatness. No one would hold her fate in their hands but her. No one.
The hairs on the back of her neck raised and alerted her to a presence in the room. Turning swiftly her mouth fell open at the sight she found. “Kenshin?” she asked stunned. One of his eyes glowed golden as a wolf's and despite their past it regarded her as prey. As he smiled she noted some of his teeth had turned rather sharp.
“The name is Ralph now,” he corrected her as if the last time they'd been together hadn't been at the trial that drained Cassandra of all but the dregs of her magic and cursed him to this beastly state. “New name, new outlook, maybe I'll even choose a new accent just for the fun of it. Anything to leave who I was behind.”
“What have they done to you?” she whispered unable to take her eyes off of his already altered form.
He shrugged. “Had to be punished, didn't I?”
She shook her head. “Why not banish you as they did the rest of us?”
“I suppose they wished to make an example of me to the others.” His gaze sharpened on her. “And they didn't want to risk you finding me. Separated between worlds,” he snorted. “The safest distance they could put between us save death.”
“Not that it worked,” Cassandra smirked. “You're here now.”
“You shouldn't have come back, Cassandra.”
Her brow furrowed stubbornly. “Why? Why shouldn't I have returned and taken back everything they stole from me?”
Kenshin shook his head pityingly. “What moment is the cause of this darkness? What was it that broke you and turned you cold and hollow? Or perhaps it was a series of moments, little slights that exposed the harshness of the world and grew too heavy to bear, but I wonder which one was the last.” His eyes searched hers desperately, pain seeking answers.
Cassandra's back straightened. “Why must there always be a moment? Perhaps I was always this way. Perhaps I am unchanged and you are only now viewing me in a different light. Perhaps I am not broken, Kenshin,” she spat his true name feeling angry now. “One does wonder then at what might pour out of me if this cold, dark, irredeemable soul of mine truly shattered.”
“Nyet,” he shook his head violently, his eyes squeezed closed against her suggestions. “I refuse to believe you were always this villainous wretch. You have good in you. I believe it! You must!”
His words cut her. She was sick and exhausted from everyone calling her a villain. Did they not ever think themselves the same? When she looked back at her footsteps she saw every slight they made against her, each painful betrayal, the mere handful of times she was ever looked at without suspicion. Perhaps she was not goodness incarnate, but neither were they. Maybe she did have good in her, but she didn't care to have it any longer. It only made her trust, it only made her waver, it only made her cry as she had when rejected endlessly as a child.
“Why?” she threw back, standing. “Because you have no other way to rationalize how you could've loved me otherwise? Stop trying to twist me into an exhausted cliché to comfort your own guilt. I am no scorned woman, no damsel in distress. I simply wanted something and decided that if men could take then so could I.” Prowling forwards slowly she forced the wolf back. “Nightmares are not all twisted dreams. Some are simply ambitions that do not align with another's. Wake up, Kenshin. If you do not enjoy this dream then wake up and fight it back. Do something. Be someone.”
Hurt glazed his eyes, the severing of their friendship finally crumbling between his claws. He could not unsee nor un-know this woman, both the girl he fell in love with nor the force whom returned from exile. In that moment he did wake up and he knew only two things to be true in his heart: he could never hurt her for he still loved her no matter how wrong, and she had to be stopped at all costs. The only way to save her was to end her. He had to find the prophesied twin. He would do nothing no longer, he vowed.
He disappeared much in the same manner as Titus often did and Cassandra blinked at his sudden departure with shock. Jealously she wondered what other gifts Titus had traded him. Hungry whispers needled her thoughts, latching onto the brief flare of jealousy with eager claws but she fought them back easily. Her magic knew its master. Taking a deep breath she stilled her heart and promised the whispers a playmate quite soon. She'd spent enough time setting up the game, it was time to sacrifice the queen.
Chapter 37
Elijah sat upon the small couch in Cassandra's room as if it were his and he had every right to lounge there whenever he fancied. He watched as Cassandra brushed her long golden hair, so much longer than the fashionable cut she'd sported when he first saw her long ago, an angel in Hell. Of course now he was past eighteen and much changed himself.
“Is there a reason you came by my room so late or did you merely miss the couch?” she asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror with a smirk. “If you like it that much I can have it moved to your room.”
He laughed at her teasing. Always desperate for any glimpse of her affection. “It is not the couch.”
“Then what?”
You, he did not dare to say. “I was wondering...when are we to move to the heartland?”
Her hand stilled, pausing her brushing. After a beat she picked up a comb and turned her attention towards attacking a particularly stubborn knot. “Once the palace is built I'll move in right away.” Placing down her comb she turned in her seat and fixed him with a look. “You will remain here.”
Eli frowned, his chest constricting at her words. “I don't understand. I'm your heir.” He hated the word, it made him feel so much younger than her, like a child, when really they were peers in both age and status. Near enough anyway. Regardless, he clung to the title because it was the one guarantee that kept them close. “Why wouldn't I live with you?”
She sighed. “Because I need you here. To rule Quidel,” she continued. “I claimed you as heir for Quidel, not for the Crown.”
Confusion and something like betrayal spun his thoughts. “I don't understand. You need me. I need you. You cannot be serious in tossing everything aside and abandoning me here.”
Cassandra's pitying gaze turned cold, almost cruel. “I don't need anyone, Elijah. I certainly never needed you.”
Now betrayal roared assuredly in his temperamental veins and embarrassment danced with anger as like a mirror shattering he realized he'd been squandering the past few years as nothing more than a love-struck puppy while the object of his affections strutted about toying with him while her heart grew blacker than the darkest night at the wicked witching hour. He'd been a fool and yet a part of him clung desperately to disbelief.
“But you chose me,” he reminded her. “You chose me. You needed me to return to Oneiroi, to reclaim your throne!”
No warmth remained anywhere to be found in her face, only callous mockery. “Need you? A number with no name?” she reminded him in turn. “I found you because Titus gave me your name. I found you because you were the only one who slept soundly at night. While everyone else was plagued with nightmares and fear, you slept in peace calling the Island of Oneiroi to surface and rescue you in your dreams. You saw me as a saving angel, when in reality I was no one in your world. I had only what I could carry and what I could steal, but you so eagerly believed your own pretty lies. You abandoned them all just to hold my hand.” She was nearly nose to nose with him now. “Did it never bother you, that you could sleep so soundly at night while your own people were slaughtered?”
“Does it never bother you that your own people slept soundly after they ripped everything from you and cast you out to be forgotten?” he growled back.
To his surprise s
he smiled. “No. Though I assure you they did not sleep soundly.”
Eli could scarcely scrape his next thoughts from his tongue. Thoughts he'd done such a good job of pushing aside with the comforting knowledge that she was safe though now he felt unsure and could barely bring himself to know. “What about Miriam?” he whispered, horror tinging his voice.
“I have no château in Switzerland,” she admitted freely. “Nothing but charred ruins and ghosts of a life before.” Elijah's entire frame froze and she arched a single brow. “What a monster you so quickly believe me to be. I did arrange her release and had her taken to a group of smugglers bound for America with other hunted in their care. I know nothing else. Perhaps Titus does, but I wouldn't overestimate how much he cares.”
Still Elijah remained frozen, his breath growing harsher as he panted in rage and guilt, a volatile mixture.
“I've done everything for you,” he whispered at last. “Everything.”
“And I appreciate it,” she smirked. “But I have no more need of you, unless of course you shut up, pull yourself back into line, and rule Quidel as I have taught you.”
“And if I don't?” he glared. “Will you slit my throat like you did to Gerard?”
She tilted her head. “I thought you didn't even like him.” Elijah seethed and she let impatience turn her gaze into a dagger at his throat. “What will it be, Elijah?”
He staggered back, shaking his head once again. “I loved you! I would have followed you anywhere!” His hands gripped his hair then clawed down his face. “Cassandra!” he wailed torn between deep anguish and bloody rage.
Cassandra spat out a cruel laugh that had never been directed towards him before, he wasn't even sure he'd heard such a cold sound before and even in its presence he could hardly believe it came from her.