Crown of Lore (Betrayal of Magic Book 1)

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Crown of Lore (Betrayal of Magic Book 1) Page 8

by Jenetta Penner


  Fairden’s chest heaves for breath. The sword disappears within his grip, as well as the shield.

  I glance at the still bodies on the ground as my heart pounds. They’re both dead.

  Fairden straightens. “You see, my dear, our shells are deceiving. The magic is strong, and can inhabit the most unanticipated Vessels.”

  “You killed them?” My head spins faster now and I stumble toward him. Before I get far, the second Guard leaps to his feet, and the end of his staff illuminates a brighter blue than I’ve seen so far. Teeth bared, he drives the end of his weapon at Fairden’s back. My mentor is unaware.

  I don’t scream. I don’t push Fairden out of the way. Instead, I throw my hands forward as my body fills with electricity. A burst of blinding purple light discharges from my hands and strikes the Guard with such force he’s thrown across the courtyard and crumples into a heap.

  I drop to my knees. Terror fills my stomach.

  Did I kill him!?

  Eyes wide, I train my attention on Fairden.

  His lips curl into a knowing smile. He swivels on his heel toward the Guards on the ground and waves his hands. The Royal Guards vanish.

  I suck in a sharp breath.

  “My Queen.” Fairden extends his hand. “I knew you had magic in you.”

  I gape at where the soldiers were only moments ago while slowly climbing back to my feet. “They weren’t real?”

  “Real enough.” Fairden lowers his proffered hand. “But created in this simulated training arena. These spawns can kill you, and will. But if your magic is strong enough, the apparitions are stoppable.” He glances back to where the battle took place. “As you can see.”

  A simulated arena? The House of Lore’s power is much greater than I imagined.

  Fairden guides my hand to the crook of his arm and begins to walk us toward the castle entrance. “You only needed a reason to find your magic.”

  “And if I hadn’t?”

  “But you did.”

  I stop walking and force Fairden to halt. “Answer my question.”

  “The illusion I cast needed to be as real as possible. The Guards were made to fight to the death. It was the best way to know.”

  I tip my head and furrow my brows. “Know what?”

  Fairden pulls me forward again and continues his leisurely stroll. “If you were genuine.”

  We each remain lost to our thoughts as he escorts me back to my room, where I discover Leif standing before my door. As we slow, a smile pulls at the corners of Fairden’s lips. “But I knew I was not wrong.”

  I throw my arms around Fairden’s neck and squeeze, as if I’ve known this man forever. At once, I regret the action and recoil.

  He pats my shoulder. “You’ve had a busy morning. And I have no doubt you are missing your family.” Fairden smiles again and eyes my torn dress. “For training tomorrow, why don’t you wear something more suitable?”

  I chuckle and, for a moment, nearly forget the gravity of my situation. Fairden bows and then pivots sharply on his heel. I watch him walk down the hall and turn the corner. Satisfied, I enter my room and practically skid to stop.

  “What—what are you two doing in here?”

  Tristan comes to his feet. “I’m sorry Arabella, we didn’t mean to intrude.” He bashfully glances at Princess Thea, who remains seated on my couch. “We just needed to speak with you.”

  “Yes, forgive us for barging in,” Thea says. “We required privacy, and wanted to see you as soon as you returned.”

  I guess I can’t be too offended. This isn’t my castle or my room. I’m still basically a prisoner.

  I walk to the middle of the room and pause a few feet from them. “It’s okay. I just didn’t expect to find anyone in here.”

  Thea sidles up to Tristan’s side. A bit too close. He grins down at her.

  He’s definitely more than just her personal Guard.

  “We are worried about you,” Thea says. “We know how hard magical training can be the first time.”

  Tristan pulls away from Thea and steps closer to me. “Fairden is a fair man, but he can be hard on his mentees. Not many have been able to summon their magical abilities on the first day of training, so don’t get too down on yourself.”

  A soft chuckle slips from my mouth. “Uh, well, I was actually able to take down the simulated Guards with my magic.”

  Thea’s head cocks to the side and her eyes narrow. “Really? I didn’t think that would be possible. I mean, you have no connection to my mother or the Lore ancestry. You’re just Relic class.”

  “I’m aware that I don’t belong,” I say. “All I want to do is figure the mystery out so I can go home.”

  Thea places her delicate hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by my words. I only meant you shouldn’t possess a natural ability.”

  “It’s fine, really. You just lost your mother and some stranger has her Essence. Trust me, as soon as I get a handle on this magic stuff, I will give you the Essence.”

  Thea shares a worried look with Tristan. “Arabella, allow me to explain. An Essence only works for the proper Vessel. Whether you want to give it up or not, simply surrendering the gift is foolish. The Queen’s Essence is the most powerful and important Transfer one can hold. There has to be a reason you have it, and why you’re able to use its magic.”

  “Thea would make a just Queen,” Tristan interjects. “But as Her Highness explained, becoming Queen is not as simple as handing someone your Lore tokens. There’s a beauty to the Transfer of Life, and we can’t overlook the greater picture here.”

  “Yes, indeed.” Thea watches her fingers as she plays with a loose ribbon on her dress. “We have to protect the Queendom—no matter what.”

  Tristan winces, then turns his attention to a large carved clock hanging above a white desk. “I forgot the Captain wants me to run perimeter duty with him today. I can’t be late again.” Tristan flicks his eyes from me to Thea. “Let me escort you back to your quarters, Your Highness.”

  “It’s not necessary. Go,” Thea insists. “I can find my way back just fine. I’ve only lived here my entire life.”

  Tristan’s brows tighten, as if the wheels are spinning in his head. The hesitancy becomes crystal clear to me. Though he trusts me, he doesn’t trust me enough to be alone with the Princess. Still, after a few awkward heartbeats, he eventually bows to both of us and slips away.

  Thea and I remain in the middle of the room, holding the pocket of silence for a moment.

  Finally, Thea smiles and steps closer to me. “I want to help you. I know you’re dealing with a tremendous amount of stress. And Fairden isn’t allowed to teach you everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want you to be aware of all there is to know—every power the Queen’s Essence holds.” Thea’s wideset sapphire eyes radiate compassion as she locks her gaze onto me.

  “Do I really want to understand all this? This isn’t my life.”

  Thea glances at the door. then she leans in close and whispers, “I just want to preserve my mother’s Essence. Whether you hold it or not, her legacy should be preserved.”

  “So you think it was a mistake, don’t you?” I study the floor and not her kind face.

  “I think whatever happened, happened for a reason. I can see you are a good person. I believe everything will work out as intended.”

  I take in a long breath and exhale slowly. If I lost Mama and there was a way to keep some part of her alive, I would do whatever I could to protect that. Thea has been put in an impossible position.

  “Alright, how do you want to do this?”

  Thea’s expression softens as she takes my hand. “The Council will not approve of me extending your training, so we must use discretion. You need to be able to protect yourself. I will have Tristan escort you to my quarters tonight. I’ll tell Fairden I want to learn more about you and would like to meet with you for supper in my chambers.”

  I swal
low thickly. “All right, I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Don’t worry Arabella, we’ll figure this out—together.”

  Chapter Ten

  IT FEELS LIKE time has stopped.

  I’ve been pacing my room for the last thirty minutes or so while thinking of what’s to come. Being alone only enhances my homesickness.

  Asher and Mama are probably dying of worry. I miss my family so much.

  Gazing down at the silver ring on my finger, all I can think about is Asher’s warmth and soft touch. We should be planning our wedding, not waiting in separation to see if I’ll be executed or not.

  I glance in the full-body mirror that stands in the corner of the room. I’ve taken Fairden’s advice and put on something more comfortable and suitable for training. Pivoting from side to side, I take in the informal, ankle length, lavender dress I found in my wardrobe. I touch the spot on my arm where the tattoo is, but the sleeves on this dress also thankfully cover the mark. Unless the Council makes me, I don’t plan on wearing any more air-restricting gowns. Quickly, I twist my hair into a low bun and secure the style.

  Three soft knocks pull me from the mirror. I’m not ready for more training just yet.

  “Arabella?” Esme calls from the hall. “May I enter?”

  Relief floods over me as I step toward the entrance. “Yes, come in.”

  The door swings open and Esme grins before returning to the hall. A moment later, she rolls in a silver cart with several platters of food and sets the buffet next to the desk.

  When she finally has a chance to take me in, she scowls. “You took out your hair and removed your makeup.”

  “None of that fancy stuff is me.”

  Esme inhales deeply, then slowly lets the air out. “Well, lunch time,” she says. “I bet you’re starving after your training session.”

  As if in response, my stomach growls at her words. “Are you allowed to eat with me?”

  Esme glances as the still open door, pinches her lips, and then hurries over to close it. “No,” she says, twisting toward me.

  “Why not?” I look around at the empty room. “There’s no one else here.”

  Esme scuttles to the cart and lifts the covers from the plates and bowls. A steaming container of stew loaded with meat and vegetables fills my hungry vision.

  “You know there’s enough on that cart to feed four families in town,” I say.

  “I already ate.” Esme ladles the chunky stew into a delicate white bowl and places the meal and utensils on a small table flanked by two chairs.

  The savory aroma fills my nose and my mouth waters. I walk to the table and sit, ready for a hearty lunch.

  “Bread?” She lifts an herb-flecked slice from a cloth-covered basket.

  I roll my eyes. “Do you even need to ask?”

  Esme chuckles. “The bread is amazing here. The baker has real talent.” She loads two generous pieces onto a plate and delivers them along with creamy butter to my table.

  “Well, if you won’t eat, then please sit.” I gesture to the other chair.

  A tiny line forms between Esme’s brows, but she does as I ask. I take a bite of the thick stew and let the richness fill my mouth. The pungent, peppery flavor dances on my tongue and I close my eyes, relishing the luxury. Mama always did her best with the little we had, but I’ve never known food to have so many layers of flavor.

  “You think this stew is made with magic?” I ask.

  Esme’s lips quirk into a smile. “I think Royalty has enough money to hire the best. And only the choicest ingredients are used. Not the leftovers we’re used to.”

  I drop my spoon into the stew bowl; the metal clanks against the china. My stomach roils with guilt. While I’m here eating expensive food, Mama and Asher may be going without.

  Esme leans on the table. Her eyes flit to the ring on my finger. “Did you have that before?”

  I lean back in my seat, touching the silver. “Asher . . . my boyfriend gave it to me when the Council allowed my family to visit. He asked me to marry him.”

  Concern wells in Esme’s eyes. “Um . . . marrying him may not be possible. There are rules which must be followed.”

  My thoughts return to the way Tristan looked at the Princess. “Well, something’s going on between Tristan and Thea.”

  “I don’t know about the princess and Tristan, but discreet relationships and distractions among the court are one thing. The Queen does not marry. There will be no King of Lore. You know this.”

  My chest tenses. I wonder if Tristan is a distraction for Thea. “I’m not going to be here forever. This whole nonsense was a huge mistake. I’m not Royal anyway.”

  Esme straightens and catches my eyes. “What if you are?”

  Heat rakes up my neck. “I’m not,” I whisper.

  “Arabella,” Esme lowers her voice, “you know as well as any of us the monarchy system hasn’t been kind to the lower class. People are suffering. What if the magic just had enough, you know, and chose a new direction? What if this is the chance for us to rise up—become better?”

  I shake my head. “I know all of this. I’ve believed this forever, but I was supposed to have a different life. I took over the shop in Arlos.” I touch the spot where my marking is under the fabric of my sleeve. “Thea would be a just ruler,” I shoot back. “So far she has been very kind to me, and even saved my life.”

  Esme shrinks back. “The Queen began that way too, but power changed her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Esme looks away and then back at me. “More visions have come to me, of the Queen. Her Majesty was not always kind to this Essence’s former Vessel. Darkness sometimes overtook her.”

  “How?”

  “Most are just feelings coming back. But once my predecessor was made to eat nothing but stale crumbs and water for a week because the Queen did not approve of a hairstyle given to her. At the end of the week, she was given ten lashes.” Tears slip from Esme’s eyes and her face pales. In a way, I know she’s reliving the experience.

  “I’m so sorry.” I reach across the table and touch her arm. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Esme wipes the moisture from her eyes. “It’s fine. But visions like that one are the reason I want to follow the rules as best I can.”

  I was going to tell Esme not to paint my face and that my bun would suffice for the rest of the day, but knowing her job is to take care of these tasks, I allow her to rearrange my hair simply and then apply a light coating of makeup. I won’t ask her to eat my food or sit with me again.

  “There . . .” A small smile touches her lips as she smooths the top of my hair.

  “It’s lovely, thank you.” I barely get the words out when the room begins to spin.

  “I can’t believe you failed again!”

  The cold words exit my mouth, but in a stranger’s voice.

  No, not a stranger’s . . . the Queen’s.

  Esme is gone, replaced by a young girl of maybe eight years, with blonde ringlets and bright blue, devastated eyes.

  Thea. I would know her face anywhere.

  “I’m trying, Mother. But this magic is too difficult.” Her little hands shake.

  I scoff, then swing the back of my hand hard across the child’s face. The smack burns my skin. Even so, I raise my hand to strike Thea a second time.

  “Isolde!” a male voice booms from nearby. I spin toward the sound. Ravenoak’s younger self stands behind us. “You need to control yourself.”

  “I’m the Queen!” I growl between my teeth. “You have no right to tell me what to do.”

  Ravenoak bows his head and places his hands behind his back. “Before you sent me away, you always shared how my presence was calming to your nerves.”

  My shoulders relax. Out of the corner of my vision, I watch as Thea races from the room. I allow her to leave without an additional word.

  I defer to Ravenoak and allow my eyes to trail along his strong jaw and broad shoulders. My arms long to wrap a
round him, but instead of acting on the impulse, I tighten my jaw and square my shoulders.

  “You were a convenience.” The tone in my voice is hard, but something in me knows the words are a show. A barrier to keep me—the Queen—from allowing a much deeper pain from consuming me. “And you have served your usefulness in my bed.”

  A twinge of hurt registers in Ravenoak’s eyes, but he doesn’t flinch. “It will not serve you well to train your daughter to construct the same walls in her heart.”

  I square my jaw. “Of course my instruction will prepare her. Thea may well be Queen after me if the Essence is passed onto her. She will need to guard herself at all times in case this happens.” I step toward him, head held high. “Return to your post before I have you removed.”

  Ravenoak puffs out his chest, then bows low. “Yes, My Queen.”

  As if waking from a dream, I’m pulled into the present moment, a bit dazed. A familiar tingle travels over my arm as the tattoo once again pulses with warmth.

  “I know that expression,” Esme says. “A memory surfaced, right?”

  I blink, refocusing on her. “Yes. An intense one.”

  “Understand your memories are yours and yours alone,” Esme says. “But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

  She’s the only one I know here who would understand. Tristan and Thea have never lived through a Transfer before. I need to figure out what’s going on.

  “I—I mean the Queen––was so harsh with young Thea. Isolde pushed everyone she was close to away. Ravenoak was there, too. Did you know Ravenoak is Thea’s father?”

  “Yes. The former Executive Maiden was there when Thea was born. She—I––helped bring her into this world. Ravenoak and the Queen were in love back then, but I also hold the memories of them fighting and eventually separating.” Esme cleans up the beauty supplies as she continues. “The Queen would confide in the previous Vessel. Isolde was angry at how tradition wouldn’t allow them to be together, but even the Queen didn’t have the authority to change this foundational law. After that, she just pushed everyone away and sometimes took her rage out on those she was closest to.”

 

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