Crown of Lore (Betrayal of Magic Book 1)

by Jenetta Penner

  Fairden’s eyebrow’s quirk in surprise.

  “The Queen was too weak, and I needed to remove her from the battle zone,” Tristan continues. “I knew either Ravenoak’s army would find Thea, and if that didn’t happen, that the Princess would be valuable leverage for Maxia. Either way, she will not be killed. Leaving her was the best strategy to keep the Queen safe, and I am fairly certain no harm will come to the Princess.”

  “Is Ravenoak aware of this fact?” Fairden asks.

  I think back to the woods were the Captain may have seen us.

  “He may know now, but the Queen and I were not able to inform him or any of his Guard,” Tristan says, taking a step back and bowing his head to me.

  “Tristan made the best choice with the information he had,” I say. “I did not agree with him at the time, but I understand now.” I straighten my back and catch the attention of each of the Council’s members. “We need to return to the War Chamber to discuss our next steps. We must also retrieve the Princess as soon as possible.”

  Several of them glance at each other, probably a little shocked at my new-found authority.

  Fairden bows his head slightly. “Yes, Your Majesty. Right away.” He gestures behind us and Tristan comes to my side, bringing himself to full attention, ready to escort me.

  Having him near eases some of the tension from my shoulders. Tristan is entirely loyal to the crown, and that means he’s completely loyal to me.

  From the corner of my eye, I notice Albright’s face twist into a scowl, but she composes herself as Fairden leads us to the War Chamber.

  As we enter the room once more, the atmosphere is even tenser than the last time. Again, multiple operators work at the glass screens while inputting information. A short woman with fiery-red hair pulled tight into a bun, her uniform that of a ranking soldier, paces across the room. She has a device in her ear that must be used for communication.

  My mind flickers with a memory from Queen Isolde. I’m able to process the visions much faster now. The woman now pacing back my way is First Lieutenant Luanda, ranking under Ravenoak. Just like him, she can be brutal when she needs to be, but I know she’s fair and a good leader. Those under her respect and admire her—and never underestimate her size. She’s killed enemies nearly double her stature and weight. The Queen before me trusted Luanda with her life, and I will too.

  I push past Fairden and walk directly to her. “Status at the border?” I demand.

  Luanda flicks a look at me and then to the Council.

  Fairden nods. “Arabella is inhabited by the Royal Essence. She is our Queen.”

  Without a beat of hesitation, First Lieutenant Luanda bows low. Her face and body emit an air of strength, but a glimmer of worry sparks in her eyes. “There is much to report.”

  Tristan settles himself at the exit, his staff at the ready, and the others sit along the large table. At the end, the head chair remains empty, which is like a smaller version of a throne.

  The peasant in me balks at the idea of sitting in that seat, but the Queen knows that acting as a leader is my duty now. I will not let any of these people see my weakness. Strength is my only option.

  Quickly, I take the seat and turn my attention to the First Lieutenant. “Please inform us.”

  She clasps her hands behind her back. “I’ve just received word. Ravenoak and his Guards have pushed Maxia and her army back—for now. They are returning and should arrive shortly.”

  “Do you know if the Princess is with them?”

  “Not to my knowledge, your Majesty,” Luanda says.

  My stomach sinks with this news, but I must keep my mind focused on the safety of the whole Queendom and not on one person—even if that person is the Princess.

  “Please inform us of the battle details and Maxia’s current location,” Lord Terrowin requests before I get the chance, “so we will be able to discuss this with Captain Ravenoak when he arrives.”

  But before the Lieutenant gets one word in, the War Chamber door flies open, slamming against the wall. Ravenoak appears, his jaw clenched and his face flushed in fiery anger. His attention aims at Tristan, and before any of us recover from his violent entrance, Ravenoak raises his staff. A burst of blue magic slams Tristan against the wall behind him.

  “Tristan!” I scream and fly to my feet. But I can’t reach him. Fairden and Lady Jaquelyn have blocked me from Ravenoak, their hands ignited with purple flame. Luanda pounces from her current position near my side to make an additional barrier between the Captain and myself and the Council.

  “How dare you enter the War Chamber in this manner, Captain!” Fairden booms.

  My breath comes in quick pants as I work to focus my energy and calm myself. The electric magic tingles at the tips of my fingers, but I hold back. Instead, I search for Tristan’s body on the ground. When I find him, I watch as his chest moves up and down in a slow rhythm. He’s still alive. My body warms with relief.

  Ravenoak’s breath, by contrast, comes in quick pants. He points his still glowing staff at Tristan. “This Guard has sworn his duty to the Princess, and instead of ensuring her safety, he chose that of a peasant!” The last word pops on his lips as he says it.

  I shove past Fairden and Jaquelyn. “Captain Ravenoak.”

  His glare locks onto mine.

  “This peasant is your Queen,” I say. “Tristan was protecting the throne—also his sworn duty.”

  A low growl comes from Ravenoak’s throat, but he says nothing.

  Tristan moans and his eyes open. In a flash, he’s on his feet and at my side once more, leaning his not yet glowing staff toward the Captain.

  Anguish twists the muscles of my stomach as I fixate on Ravenoak. He isn’t only protecting the Princess—he’s a father who wants to protect his daughter. Papa would have done no less for me.

  “I empathize with your pain, Captain,” I begin, a catch in my voice. “Thea was Queen Isolde’s daughter, too. That is not lost on me. We intend to get the Princess back as soon as possible.” I gesture to the table. “Would you like to join us in the planning?”

  Without uttering a reply, Ravenoak spins on his heel and exits the room, slamming the door behind him and stealing the atmosphere from the room.

  For a few seconds, no one moves. Then, as if the air comes back into the room, I glance at Tristan. “Are you okay?”

  He draws in a quick breath through his nose. “I’ve had worse.”

  I know he’s lying, but I’ll have to deal with that later. Turning to Luanda, I say, “Please continue with your report.” I walk to my chair and sit. The Council follows my lead.

  Luanda returns to a more relaxed stance and again clasps her hands behind her back. She begins a play-by-play of Ravenoak and the Guards pushing Maxia farther from the border.

  “We will monitor the border and double patrols, but we should wait until first light to make our next move,” she advises.

  A minor discussion ensues among the Council, but we quickly agree with Luanda’s assessment.

  “Your Majesty should get some rest before that time,” Fairden says. “You should return to your room. Right now, there is nothing more to discuss.”

  I have no idea how I would rest, but some time alone would probably be best, so I can process everything that’s happened tonight.

  “I agree,” I say and stand.

  Tristan snaps to attention, and all the Council members rise.

  “Please inform me immediately if something changes,” I say. “You are all very brave, and I know my Queendom is in capable hands.”

  “Yes, your Majesty,” Fairden says.

  An effortless air of confidence fills me. I’m not quite sure how, but something inside me is different now. I make my way to the door and Tristan opens it, allowing me to exit first. Once in the hall, it’s as if the weight of the world falls on my shoulders, but my newfound strength forces down the emotions I know lurk inside. Needing a distraction, I turn to Tristan at my side.

  “Are
you okay? Truly okay?” I ask.

  His chiseled jaw remains strong as he says, “I’ll admit it. That hurt.”

  The words barely exit his mouth before I wrap my arms around him. I’m the Queen, and Tristan could be mine if I wanted him to be, and, in this moment, I may want this. His muscular chest is warm, and I breathe in his spicy scent. My knees weaken, and not long after his free hand is clasping my back. “I don’t want to lose you,” I whisper, my heart fluttering.

  His pupils dilate, and I can fee his heart pounding. “I don’t want to lose you, my Queen.”

  I gently pull a few inches from him. “Bel,” I correct. The peasant girl knows I’m not feeling myself, and that I shouldn’t be doing this, but an urge in the back of my mind casts any questions aside. My chest and neck flush with warmth as his smooth palm cups my waist.

  Tristan’s lips stretch into a small grin. “Bel.”

  We stay there a few more moments, not speaking as a beautiful energy flows between us like magic. Maybe it is magic. My fingertips remain on his chest as I step out of our embrace. I don’t want to let go of him, and am thankful when he offers me his arm. He escorts me to my room, neither of us speaking. Both of us are lost to this pull, this overwhelming connection.

  It isn’t until I enter my chamber that I pull out of this strange trance. Especially when loud sounds clamor from outside. Is the castle under siege?

  “My Queen,” Tristan warns when I race toward the nearest window. “Stay away from there.”

  But I don’t listen. After swooping the weighty fabric away, I fling open the window to see what’s happening. At the gate, multiple staffs light the darkness. A tall boy stands in the middle of Guards and yells:

  “I must see Bel!”

  My chest tingles with excitement and energy. In the same moment, my stomach swirls with guilt for what I had just shared with Tristan. I would know that voice anywhere.

  Asher.

  Chapter Nineteen

  MY CHEST TIGHTENS as I see my Asher. I can barely make out his expression, but by the determination and intensity in his voice, I know he’s here for more than a visit.

  I release the drapes and whirl toward Tristan, who’s not more than a foot behind me.

  “Please, Your Majesty.” He places his hand gently on my upper arm. “Let the Guards deal with that disturbance. They will not let peasants inside.”

  “Peasant?” I growl, my eyebrows furrowing at his words. “That peasant is my fiancé, and there is obviously something bigger going on than him just wanting to get through the gate! He wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  Tristan’s eyes widen, and then he casts his gaze to the ground. “My apol—”

  I don’t let him get the words out before I rush past him. How could I ever get so close to Tristan and think the kinds of things about him that I was a few moments ago? That isn’t me. Asher is everything to me. My sunshine. My choice.

  From my room to the lawn of the castle is a complete blur of hallways and stairs mixed with voices bidding me to stay inside. I peer over my shoulder and spot Tristan hot on my heels, but I pick up the pace to reach the man I know I love—not someone I barely know. As I approach the yard, Asher’s attention locks onto me.

  “Bel!” He side-steps a Guard who’s threatening him with a glowing staff, but doesn’t get far. Asher throws his hands in the air and shoots one of the Guards a nasty glare.

  “Sir, you must back from the gate, or we will be forced to arrest you!” the Guard shouts at Asher.

  “You will do no such thing!” I order, realizing that my right hand is glowing purple and crackling with electricity.

  The four Guards train their focus on me and snap to attention, while Asher gapes at me in complete shock.

  “Bel?” he mutters under his breath, raking a hand through his disheveled blond hair.

  I focus on the Guards instead of him. “You will allow Asher of the House of Caine to enter.”

  “Your Majesty,” a female Guard protests. “We are at war, and are not allowed to let any unauthorized people onto the grounds.”

  Tristan steps in behind me, staff in hand. Somehow, I can feel the radiation of disappointment coming from his body. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I don’t think so.

  “As the Queen, do I have the authority to authorize him?” I ask as the purple glow dissipates from my hand.

  The female Guard snaps to attention again.

  “As Queen, you have the authority to do almost anything you wish,” Tristan answers.

  I turn to him. Tristan’s face is stoic. His smile—the one of a man who desires to become my lover—is now the granite determination of a Royal Guard whose duty is only to protect his Queen.

  Watching his face, my heart is torn. Guilt flutters in my stomach. I didn’t mean to lead Tristan on, nor did I mean to be untrue in my promise to Asher. And yet, those feelings with Tristan . . . they felt real. All consuming, even. How can I fall in love a boy I hardly know? The boy I love is one I’ve known my whole life.

  My thumb grazes across the back of the simple ring on my finger.

  I blow out a slow breath and straighten my back. “Allow Asher in,” I order.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the female Guard barks while two Guards unlatch and pull open the large metal gate.

  Asher gives each of us a wide-eyed, tentative look before he rushes through. I open my arms to him and step forward.

  Asher collides with me, enveloping me in his arms. “I had to make sure you were still okay,” he says into my ear. “I’d heard rumors that the Queendom was under attack.”

  “I’m okay,” I whisper, melting into his warm frame. Asher’s embrace feels so familiar, yet completely new. I loosen from him and grasp his hand. “But we do need to get back inside.”

  I shoot a quick glance to Tristan, but he averts his eyes and gestures for the other Guards to secure the gate. As I pilot Asher toward the castle entrance, the clank of metal sounds from behind, and Tristan dutifully follows us.

  At the entrance to my room, Tristan takes his place to the side of the door, as Guard only. I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing we will need to have a conversation—and soon—but not now.

  The click of the door latch closing sounds as I lean my back against the heavy wood. Asher steps into the middle of the room, peering around at the luxury again. He does a near three-sixty before his gaze falls back onto me. His eyes move from my head to my toes before landing at the fully visible marking where Maxia ripped off my sleeve.

  “You’ve changed,” he says.

  I whisper, “I’m the Queen.”

  A mixture of confusion, pain, and relief twists his face. “So this means the Council will not kill you to regain the Essence?”

  I consider his question. “For now.”

  Asher closes his eyes and allows a slow breath out through his nose. Then he opens his eyelids again. “What does this mean for us?”

  I don’t know what this means for Asher and me. But at this moment, I no longer care. Instead of answering him with words, I sprint toward Asher, who opens his arms for me. Then we collide—bodies, breaths, smiles. I snake my hands over his shoulders as my mouth crashes onto his. He hungrily meets my lips, and the sweet taste of his kiss makes me greedy for more. And more.

  This is where I belong.

  Asher’s calloused hands work their way into my hair, and, once again, I’m reminded of how he always feels like home. He’s the best partner I could ever wish for, and I don’t know how any of the magic, wealth, or Tristan could have made me forget that fact—even for a moment.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I murmur as I come up for air. Our bodies melt together, and all I want is to remain in our tangle of arms and sighs and kisses forever.

  But this time, probably for the first time ever, Asher is the one to break from our embrace. “Bel, I want you to be my wife so badly. There’s not a second we’ve been apart that I haven’t thought about you.” His green eyes are filled with so much sincerity
that I could never doubt him.

  I smile and glance around for a place for us to talk . . . not the bed. After tonight, I’m not sure much talking would take place there. I settle on the small table with two chairs where Esme brings my meals and gesture for Asher to sit.

  When he does, I reach across the table and grab his hand. “Why did you come here tonight? You knew they could have arrested you—or worse if I couldn’t have come out.”

  Asher’s jaw tightens. “There are rumors that war is coming to the Queendom. That intruders are already at the border. Your mother was sick with worry that this might mean the Council would attempt to extract the Queen’s Essence from you and then kill you or throw you away in the process.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. Mama’s fears were not that far off.

  “I kept trying to tell her that wasn’t going to happen—but I knew it could, too. War would force the Council’s hand.”

  I want to tell Asher all about what I saw outside the border, about Lady Maxia, but I don’t want to make the situation worse than it already is. “What else have you heard in Arlos? What are the people saying?”

  Asher sighs and lets go of my hand, allowing his own to fall onto his lap. “Everyone is confused. First, they want to know how there are even people at the border. How are they even living outside the protection of the Queendom? Some of the townspeople want to see for themselves . . . maybe even leave to find a better fortune out beyond the boundary.”

  “They shouldn’t do that. Yes, people are living out there, but it doesn’t mean they’re safe. It’s dangerous, I saw it—” The words slip out before I can take them back.

  “You’ve been there?”

  My chest tightens, and my mind spins with what I can tell Asher and what I should not. “From a distance,” I lie. “The people from the outside are . . . affected.”

  “Affected how?”

  “Honestly? I don’t have all the information yet. Everything has been moving so quickly. But we were not lied to. Radiation has made the land outside the Queendom harmful.”

  “Well, the people need assurance.” Asher looks me over again. “As Queen, that is something you need to provide. They are shaken with the death of Queen Isolde, and now a war is impending.”