Even the mighty Queen of Lore is bound by the laws of those before her. I’m sure the Council could have helped her if they wanted to, but the protections surrounding every aspect of Royal life are so entrenched that I assume she was helpless.
I just don’t understand how that could make her turn on her own daughter. Tough love is one thing, but hitting a child is disgusting.
“Well, I’m meeting with Thea tonight.” I scan the room, as if others might be listening. “She wants to help me understand more about my magic. I can’t sit around while my fate is being determined by everyone but me.”
Esme takes my wrist. “You need to be careful. Magic tutelage is strictly for the Council to instruct. If they find out, you both could be in serious trouble. And there’s more you should know.”
“What is it?” I insist.
Esme cranes her neck toward the door and whispers, “I overheard Captain Ravenoak speaking with the Council. There’s an army building outside of Lore’s borders. Something big is about to happen.”
“Wait, what? Outside of the borders? There’s nothing but death and radiation out there. I don’t understand.”
Esme pulls away from me and busies herself with gathering her supplies. “I’ve said too much. I can’t put you in danger like this. Information is powerful, but it can be deadly, too. Please, keep this to yourself. Speaking of this to anyone will only do you harm. I only tell you this because you are the Queen’s Vessel, and they’ll need your situation resolved quickly––before they address whatever’s out there.”
Chapter Eleven
AS THE FADING SUN sets on the castle, shadows creep across my room like eerie silhouettes lurking from every corner. I’m sick of being held captive in this space. The luxurious feel of my quarters has lost its allure. It’s feeling more and more like a prison.
While waiting to be escorted to Thea’s chambers, I’ve thought of nothing else but what Esme shared regarding the outside threat to the Queendom. Mama and Asher have no idea what might come. No one in my village does. There has to be a way to send word to them.
I wiggle the ring on my finger and pull it off while staring at it. The green emerald and silver setting is the most beautiful thing in the Queendom—because Asher picked it out, just for me.
A soft rattling breaks me from my thoughts and the ring nearly falls from my hand. What if someone else questions me about it? Quickly, I shove the ring into my pocket.
“Arabella, are you ready?” Tristan calls from outside the room.
Apparently, Lord Fairden bought Thea’s lie about her just wanting to get to know me better. It doesn’t feel right to lie to him, but I have to start looking out for my family. Thea’s help with my magic is the best way to do that.
As I pull open the door, I’m caught off guard by Tristan’s less formal attire. He wears a fitted, button-up shirt and dark jeans. His muscles are barely contained by the top, and heat climbs my chest and neck at the sight of them. I slip my hand into my pocket and feel my ring, each touch a reminder I really shouldn’t be paying such close attention to Tristan’s body.
“I’m surprised Lord Fairden agreed to this,” Tristan says. “I think he’s taken a liking to you.”
I smile, avoiding his eyes. “A little bit of girl time won’t kill anyone.”
“Well, the three other Guards stationed outside Thea’s room will prevent any and all murders.” He catches my gaze and winks at me with a grin. “Plus, the Princess can handle herself.”
“I wouldn’t dare hurt—”
“Relax, Arabella, I was joking. She trusts you, and so do I.”
A soft chuckle escapes my lips. “I knew that.”
I wonder if Tristan is aware of the impending threat to the Queendom. Everything in me wants to ask, but I need to protect Esme.
Tristan guides me down a hall, where a new Guard I haven’t seen before acknowledges him. Tristan gestures for me to keep walking. After a few turns, we reach a marble staircase adorned with gold leaf woven into beautifully carved wooden balusters that follow each step up.
He stops a few steps up and turns to me. “One flight up and we’ll reach the Royal wing of the castle. Not many outside of the Royal family and Council are permitted there.”
“Well, I guess it’s lucky I have the Queen’s Essence,” I say.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies with a smile.
We start up the long staircase, our footsteps echoing off the stone walls. My palms dampen. I don’t know what to expect.
“Arabella,” Tristan says, pausing again halfway up, “you know I serve the Lore Queendom above all else, right?”
“Sure, I guess. What are you saying?”
He turns to me. “Thea is a bit of a wildcard, always has been. I hope you understand how serious the Lore laws are. Just be careful.”
Duty and loyalty ground Tristan. I feel bad for lying to him like this, but I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I have to be prepared for whatever’s to come, no matter what.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Thea?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
A furrow appears between his brows. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Tristan hops up one step and playfully towers over me. “It’s okay. I’ve known Thea my whole life. She’s like a best friend to me.”
“Yeah, I see that. I just think she might see you as something more. That’s all I’m saying.”
Tristan studies the ornate railing while placing a hand to the back of his flushing neck. “Um, yeah… We should get moving. She’s waiting eagerly for you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Reaching the top of the elegant staircase, we enter a large lobby. Tall white doors adorn curved walls with thick crown molding and royal banner sashes. Lush, lavender-colored carpeting softens every footfall. The sweet scent of fresh-cut flowers draws my attention to a line of narrow tables in the center of the lobby. Crystal vases line each one, bursting with colorful bouquets.
“The room is a little farther,” Tristan says, and gestures toward a corridor.
I blow out a quick breath to release the nervous energy brewing in my chest. Then I hold my head high in preparation to meet Thea.
“Guard!”
My heart jumps at the unexpected voice. I twist to find its source, but I already know who the gravelly voice belongs to: Ravenoak. His voice is familiar to me on so many levels.
Behind him are four Guards—two male, two female. Each is armed a staff, and wears a matching scowl.
Tristan steps in front of me. “Yes, Captain?”
Ravenoak’s jaw tenses and a vein on his forehead pulses. “Why are you here? And not in uniform?”
“Sir,” Tristan protests, “I am acting on unofficial duty for Princess Thea. She has requested Arabella to be escorted to her Royal quarters.”
Ravenoak ignores Tristan’s words and advances toward me, hand extended. Everything in me wants to run. There’s no way this is good. Did Ravenoak or the Council find out Thea was preparing to instruct me? I avoid the Captain’s grasp and step farther behind Tristan.
Ravenoak parts his lips slightly and bares his teeth. “Step aside, boy.”
“I am under orders given by the Princess,” Tristan says. “She outranks you.”
I close my eyes for a moment. I need Tristan. He’s one of my few allies. I can’t risk him being removed from his station—or worse. With a steadying breath, I drift out from behind him.
“At least tell us what this is about,” I say. “We were both only following Princess Thea’s orders.” I keep my voice steady and calm. “If you need him to, Tristan can escort me back to my room.”
Ravenoak grabs my upper arm and shakes me. The tingle of magic races through my fingers, but I grit my teeth and hold the feeling back. This isn’t the time for me to test the bounds of my ability.
“The Council has called an emergency conclave,” Ravenoak growls. “You will not be returning to your
room.” He pulls me toward the Guards.
“This is not standard procedure,” Tristan protests.
The Captain, with fire in his eyes, twists his attention to Tristan again. “You are dismissed.”
In unison, the staffs come to life in the Guards’ hands with crackling blue magic. Ravenoak shoves me their way, and I nearly tumble to the ground. The female Guard on my right grabs my wrist and yanks me to my feet.
“Throw her in a holding cell!” Ravenoak shouts.
“No, no, no!” I yell, my eyes on Tristan.
But instead of coming to my aid, he remains where he stands, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Chapter Twelve
THE DANK, MUSKY air of the cell turns my stomach. I have no idea how long I’ve been down here. A bowl of mushy porridge waits on the floor, a rubbery film stretching across its surface. Beside the bowl is a cup of water.
I haven’t touched either. Beggars can’t be choosers, but I’m past feeling hungry.
Lying on my stomach with my arm hanging over the side of the cot, I touch my pocket, I feeling for the hidden ring inside. If Ravenoak had seen it, I’m sure he’d have confiscated it. I pull out the band and compare the shiny silver to the dullness of my prison.
I sigh, and daydream about Asher’s strong arms around me, encircling me in safety. There’s no way I would be able to afford a new dress for our wedding day, but I wouldn’t care, and neither would Asher. Wealth isn’t what’s important in life. It doesn’t bring happiness. Queen Isolde was dripping with wealth and power. Neither brought her any measure of joy.
Asher leans in for a just-married kiss, and my breath hitches at the tenderness of his soft lips. The dream vanishes like a wisp of smoke on the wind. Reality fades back to the near darkness of my cell, and I gasp for a gulp of stale air.
Asher never should have given the ring to me. Proposing was a terrible idea. I mentally scold myself for even allowing the fantasy to enter my mind. My chances of getting out of this place alive are next to none. He has to let go of our longings.
I drop the ring back into my pocket, out of sight.
Just as I’m about to roll to my back, I startle at a loud clanking sound, like someone’s entering the dungeon. I shoot up from my bed.
Heavy footfalls from multiple people clomp across the stone floor. A dull, bluish glow illuminates from around the corner.
Please be Tristan. I repeat the words in my mind several times while the sounds of steps grow louder. Closer. My heart thuds.
But it isn’t Tristan. Two familiar Royal Guards—one male and one female—round the corner, their illuminated staffs in hand.
“Stand back,” the male orders.
My hands are currently wrapped around the bars of my cell. I don’t even remember walking across the cold floor and taking hold of the even colder iron. I uncurl my fingers and ease back to the middle of the cell.
The two Guards eye me, and then the female hands her staff to the other Guard to retrieve a set of cuffs from her belt. The irons now in hand, the female unlocks my cell, which swings free with a high-pitched creak.
“Hands out.” Her voice is coarse, unwavering.
I obey, even though I took down those simulated soldiers with my magic. I didn’t know at the time they were merely illusions, but these Guards are real—fellow humans.
My hands shake as she pulls the cuffs tight and then retrieves her fighting staff, leaning the glowing top my way.
“Now move,” she orders.
Once again, I obey.
“Where am I going?” I ask when we’re halfway up the stairwell. Neither Guard answers.
They finally lead me to the main floor of the castle, and we pass through the servants’ quarters. A young maid with tight curly hair and large brown eyes spots me. Her eyebrows arch with surprise, her mouth a perfect O. She turns and scurries off in the opposite way.
A similar thing happens with two other servants along the journey. Everyone seems to act as if I have the plague and they can’t risk catching the disease.
Finally, we reach our apparent destination, a pair of ornate golden doors with a stylized “L” on the carved face. This is the same place I came upon my arrival––the Council Hall.
I skid to a stop, not wanting to go in there. Nothing but death awaits me inside.
As if on cue, two Royal Guards pull on long golden handles and the doors open, slowly revealing the grand hall and the Council seated before me. With a nudge from the muscular female Guard behind me, I’m escorted to the same chair I sat in upon my arrival. She removes my restraints and I rub at my chafed wrists. The Council is already seated high on their perch, leering down at me.
I’m not restrained, but the glowing staffs, held firmly at each Guard’s side, keep me in place.
Out of the corner of my eye, Ravenoak and two more Guards make their way to stand beside the Council’s stage. Ravenoak folds his arms across his chest. The weathered expression on his face remains frigid as he eyes me.
My attention is snapped to the front as Lady Albright clears her throat. Her narrow gaze hones in on me. The well-shaped eyebrows arching above her dark eyes push together as she sits forward in her chair. She’s older than I first thought. Wrinkles crack the heavy coating of foundation plastered over her face.
“I’ve called this emergency conclave due to the alarming circumstances outside our borders,” Albright says, shifting her gaze from the Council to Ravenoak. “What we’ve suspected for the last few months has come true. We no longer have the time to postpone our decision on the fate of the Queen’s Essence. The Queendom is at risk.”
This still doesn’t make sense to me. There’s nothing beyond the borders but radiation and loss. My Papa’s face and his warm, inviting smile swims in my mind. A tightness forms in my stomach. I miss him now more than ever. He would know how to fix my situation. He was one of the smartest people I’ve known.
The Council stirs in their seats, muttering to each other before Lord Terrowin raises his frail hand to call the session to order. “I demand answers,” he says. “We mustn’t continue with young Arabella’s proceedings until we are made fully aware of this threat of war.”
“I agree,” Fairden says, locking his eyes on me. “The matter of the Queen’s Essence is not something that can be rushed. We need to fully understand what’s going on.”
“Very well,” Albright says, interlocking her fingers. “Captain Ravenoak, please update the Council on your findings.”
Ravenoak takes a few measured steps into the center of the room before turning to face the Council. “We have confirmed that the threat is indeed Lady Maxia. She has amassed an army of over one hundred insurgents. Most appear to be using magic.”
Lady Rose adjusts her gown and leans forward. “How could this be? Where did this army come from? How could she imbue this many people with magic without the Lore Transfer process?”
The more they talk, the more my heart tries to rip from my chest. I want to speak up, but my nerves lock me in place.
Ravenoak glances at me before quickly shifting away as he steps toward Rose. “This is neither the time nor the place to discuss sensitive details on this matter. All you need to focus on is how to handle the Queen’s Essence during this crisis.”
“I fully understand protocol, Captain,” Lady Rose hisses. “But if the former Lady has returned with an army, I demand to know everything.”
“Who is Lady Maxia?” I blurt out before catching myself and sinking back into my seat.
The room quiets. In one swift motion, the entire Council turns its attention toward me.
Lord Fairden raises a hand. “Let me handle this.”
“Be quick,” Lady Albright states. “We have a decision to make here.”
“If I’m not allowed to speak, then why am I even here?” I ask.
Fairden grins at Lady Albright before turning to me. “My dear, Lady Maxia was a former Lore Council member who was exiled from Lore. What is supposed to be a death sent
ence has turned into a serious threat to our sovereign lands. Maxia betrayed our––”
“That’s enough, Fairden,” Albright snaps. “Those details are none of Arabella’s concerns.”
“She must be made aware so that the Queen’s Essence is aware of the proceedings,” Fairden replies in a low, gravely tone.
“Just take the Essence and let me go!” I cry out. “I just want to go back to my family.”
“It is not that simple, my dear,” Fairden says. “An Essence cannot be Transferred from a Vessel during the transition stage. You have weeks before the Transfer has fully taken hold within you. Removing it now will only kill you.”
“I don’t deserve this. I didn’t steal the Essence.”
Ravenoak scowls, pointing a finger at me. “You do not deserve my Queen’s Essence. A Relic Class peasant has no place here.”
“Mind your place, Captain,” Albright says.
Ravenoak turns his gaze to the ground. “Yes, My Lady. Forgive me.”
Albright stands and takes one step down from the Council stage. “Our investigation has not determined your innocence—or guilt. Unfortunately, we have simply run out of time. We must protect the Queen’s Essence above all else.”
I choke back the rising emotions. “Please—”
A loud crack echoes through the hall as the double doors fly open. Princess Thea storms into the room, her eyes filled with fire. Tristan follows her, but stops abruptly when the Guards raise their staffs, effectively blocking his path. His brows furrow, compassion filling his eyes.
“What is the meaning of this?” Thea snarls as she moves to the center of the hall and steps before me. “Why wasn’t I informed of this conclave?”
Lady Albright takes the last step down to be on the same level as Thea and me. She walks up and takes Thea’s hand. “Your Highness, we meant no disrespect, but our laws state the Council has the full authority on matters of Queendom security when a Queen is not residing over our lands. Your presence and votes are not required.”
Crown of Lore (Betrayal of Magic Book 1) Page 9