Crown of Lore (Betrayal of Magic Book 1)

by Jenetta Penner

  Part of me knows he’s right, and I’ll need to discuss this with the Council. Another part of me still just wants him to hold me and wish this whole nightmare away. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes. Not being able to hold back the emotion bubbling inside me, I push back the chair with a screech and nearly throw myself in Asher’s direction. He’s quick to his feet, and wraps me in his arms.

  “Just kiss me,” I say, and he’s ready to comply.

  This time his kiss is warm and tender as he gently uses his thumb to brush the moisture from my cheek.

  “I love you, Asher of the House of Caine,” I say.

  His lips curl into a rueful grin. “Arabella, you are the only woman I will ever love. Ever.”

  My body floods with heat and the world fades away. The only two people who exist are me and Asher.

  The thought of the bed enters my mind and I tug him that way. I’m the Queen, and rules be damned. Rules are meant to be changed.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  I gasp as reality comes back. A purple glow of magic surrounds us and I curiously watch as it dissipates. I didn’t even know that would happen.

  Asher’s eyes round. He must have seen the glow too.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  “Your Majesty,” Tristan’s muffled voice calls out.

  I loosen from Asher and race to the door, throwing it open. Tristan stands in the opening, a bead of sweat running from his temple. He glances at Asher behind me, and then back my way.

  “Your Majesty,” he pants. “The enemy has broken through the border and is believed to be en route to the castle.”

  My mind swirls. Protectiveness for the Queendom intensely grows in my chest. “Then I must meet with the Council to make a plan. Maxia will not have the throne!” The words come out in a decisive tone I barely recognize.

  Almost forgetting Asher is here, I make for the exit to join Tristan.

  “Arabella,” Asher says from behind, and I whirl on my heel to face him.

  “Stay here,” I order. “If anyone sees you, they might assume you’re an enemy. You’ll be safe in my room.”

  Asher’s hands tighten into fists as his brows push together. “I’m going with you. I want to fight, to protect you.”

  “I need you alive, not your protection.” With those words, both of my hands come alive with sparking purple magic. “And if I need protection, I have Tristan and the soldiers like him who are trained to provide it.”

  Asher’s eyes narrow a tiny bit. “Like him?” He flicks a glare at Tristan, whose staff is now glowing, then narrows his eyes farther at me. “You mean the people who have magic? Is he better than me now? More able? I can fight, Bel, and you know it.”

  My chest tingles with heartbreak, like I’m losing him all over again. “That’s not what I mean. The Guard is trained to fight intruders. Their duty is to keep the Queendom and her people safe.” The words come out harsher than I intend, and so I lower my voice to a whisper. “I want you to be safe. I want to come home to you.”

  “And this is your home now?” he asks, gesturing around the room.

  “Yes.”

  Asher scoffs softly and glances away. “I thought I was coming here to protect you . . .”

  My heart sinks deeper and I blink back forming tears. Asher wants to be my savior, but I’ve never really needed his protection. I love that he’s cared for me and my family, but it’s not why I need him.

  “Your Majesty,” Tristan urges, “we must leave.”

  The magic leaves my hands as I walk to Asher and take his arm. He catches my eye. “Please stay here,” I say.

  Asher places his hand over mine, and then his fingers graze over the ring he gave me.

  I rise up on my toes and kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Even though I despair at leaving Asher like this, I spin around, and Tristan pilots me from the room.

  We don’t get far before Lord Fairden comes around the corner. A muscle pulses in his jaw, his eyes filled with concern. “Your Majesty,” he says as he sees me.

  “Update?” I ask, continuing toward him with Tristan by my side.

  Fairden stops and seems to consider his words. “It appears that Maxia’s plan is not to attack the castle.”

  “But that’s a good thing, right?”

  Fairden shakes his head. “The attack is on Arlos.”

  A pit in my stomach drops to depths I’ve never known. “Mama . . .” I whisper.

  I twist back toward my room just as the door clicks shut. At least Asher is safe inside.

  Chapter Twenty

  I FOCUS ON Fairden. “I’m going to Arlos.”

  Fairden’s brow furrows. “Your Majesty, I would not advise this. There is too much of a coincidence that Arlos is the chosen target. Maxia is attempting to draw you out.”

  My body stiffens. Fairden is right. Arlos is a Relic class town . . . a nothing-place full of nobodies. There’s no reason to attack my birthplace other than the obvious. If Maxia wanted to swing a more significant blow to the Queendom, she would strike a higher-class Tenant town.

  I push away all those rational thoughts.

  “Then let her draw me out.” I ball my fists as the words exit my mouth. “Prepare my passage.” I push past Fairden.

  “Your Majesty,” Tristan calls from behind as my boots pound the marble floor toward the staircase.

  I stop, twisting toward him. “You’re not going to stop me.”

  Tristan’s brown eyes are clouded with worry. “I want to make sure you are thinking clearly.”

  Tristan’s right, I’m not thinking clearly, but going to Arlos is something I have to do. I never let bullies get the best of me, even when I was a simple girl.

  “Guard,” I say, “you’re either with me, or you’re not.”

  Tristan inhales deeply and snaps to attention. “My Queen, I am with you until the end.”

  “Good,” I say. “Because I want you there.”

  His eyes fall onto my tattered sleeve. “But I would advise you to lead as the Warrior Queen you are. And your appearance should play a part in that position.”

  I touch my arm.

  “I can arrange for a garment more suitable,” Tristan says.

  Despite all the chaos swirling in my brain, Tristan’s presence and faithfulness gives me a small slice of peace. Looking the part will provide me with the authority I’ll need. Not only does the Guard need to fully recognize my rule, but the people within the Queendom do as well.

  I’m not a peasant anymore.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Tristan smiles and gestures me down the stairs. We make quick work of the steps and are met at the bottom by Fairden and Lady Jacquelyn. Tristan leaves me to care for the details of my carriage and new clothing.

  “Your Majesty,” Lady Jacquelyn says, “it is not protocol that the Queen would leave the castle for a battle. Fighting is the Guard’s duty.”

  I openly stare at her and the others in disbelief. “Perhaps it’s time for new protocol. The Queen should fight for her people. Without them, the Queendom is meaningless.” They say nothing to this, so I continue, “The Council will remain safely in the castle. This way, if things do not go well for me, there will still be a committee to run the Queendom.”

  Silence fills the air until Fairden finally speaks. “With your permission, Your Majesty, I will join you.”

  I bring my full attention to him. “It would be my honor to have you by my side, Lord Fairden.”

  His eyes are sad, but the dark skin around them crinkles as a small smile forms on his lips. He turns to Lady Jacquelyn. “Find the others and return to the War Chamber for updates.”

  Jacquelyn nods, and then she leaves us.

  Fairden leans in closer to me. “Arabella of the house of Garin, you are more than worthy of the throne.”

  My lips turn up into a slight smile. As a peasant, I always wanted life to be better for me, my family, for the Relic Class. But because I
couldn’t really do much of anything, I think it was all talk. As the Queen, there’s the possibility I can make this Queendom one that the people can rally behind.

  “Thank you Lord Fairden.”

  He bows his head, and I allow him to lead me outside of the castle and toward the stables where Guards are gathering. On the way, he fills me in that we will be passing through the Tenant Class town of Borandice, which is the quickest route to Arlos. Borandice is where Neil is studying at the Training Institute. Maybe I’ll see him as I pass through.

  The thought sends a pang of nervousness through my stomach. What would he think, seeing me as Queen? Would he find me worthy?

  I toss the thoughts aside for now. It doesn’t matter what my brother thinks of me, although I still care.

  We’re met by Tristan and several women, including Esme, who’s carrying a blue and gold garment in her arms. She curtsies as she approaches.

  “I have your battle attire, Your Majesty.” She holds it out for me to see. The fabric is luxurious—and very expensive. Sewn into the waist and part of the bodice are metal scales. “The metal on the front is mainly decorative, but it is also built into the underside for protection,” she adds.

  “Will it be heavy?” I ask.

  Esme shakes her head. “It’s lighter than you might think—magic infused.”

  “We will prepare your carriage, while you change,” Fairden says, and they leave me with Esme and the other women.

  Esme guides me to a temporary screened-in area, set up by her maids for privacy.

  “Are you always this prepared?” I ask Esme as she hands the gown to a maid with curly chestnut hair.

  “This is our job.” She strips me of my boots and torn outfit as if she’s done it a thousand times. “When the Queen needs something, we are there to provide the service at once.”

  Another maid sets a wooden chair beside me, and I sit as Esme helps me with a pair of fitted pants.

  “Hold up your arms, Your Majesty,” she says.

  I obey, and she slips the top over my head. Once on, she adjusts the sides, pulling the waist tighter where it needs to be. After she’s done, the black-haired maid pulls on my boots as Esme quickly brushes my hair and affixes my tresses into a low, tight bun.

  She circles around the front and offers her hand. I take it, and she studies me, her eyes stopping at the opening in my sleeve on my upper arm. The window is framed in delicate gold detail, designed to show off the Queen’s marking. My marking.

  This is the first outfit I’ve worn intended to do so.

  I straighten my back, and Esme and each maid curtsies.

  “Ready?” Esme asks.

  “Yes.”

  The maids remove the privacy screen from around me and promptly carries it back to the castle. Esme stays by my side. From the pocket on the side of her gown, she pulls out a leather pouch, teasing open the drawstrings. Inside are at least a hundred tokens—each one of them still etched with Queen Isolde’s face. My face will replace hers soon.

  She holds the bag out to me. “For your people.”

  I accept the bag. “Where did you get this?”

  Esme lowers her eyes. “I gathered them from the castle staff. Many of them are good people and want better for the Relic class.”

  Esme has known want, just as I have. If I have the opportunity to pass some of these out in Arlos, the act will go that much further in securing the people’s trust and support. Before now, townships like Arlos accepted that they were outcasts, abandoned by the Queendom—mostly.

  “Thank you. I will pay back the debt.”

  Esme curtsies and departs for the castle as I scan the area for Tristan and Fairden. Tristan isn’t far, and escorts me to the now ready carriage, hovering over the ground.

  To my surprise, Ravenoak is also waiting with Fairden near the carriage, at attention. My thoughts move to Thea and my desire to rescue her from Maxia. I walk to him, my head held high.

  “I am in need of your service to secure the Queendom, Captain.”

  Ravenoak’s jaw tenses for a moment, but then relaxes. “I am at the service of the Queendom.”

  I know this man’s heart from Queen Isolde’s memories. Ravenoak was a good person, and a good father. Despite his outburst earlier, I will give him the benefit of the doubt that this is still true.

  “Thank you,” I say. “You are a tremendous asset, and I am confident in your skills for leading us into battle.”

  A vein on the side of the captain’s left temple twitches. “It is an honor, Your . . . Majesty.” With a slight bow of his head, he returns to his troops.

  I shoot a quick glance to Fairden. His stoic expression gives little away, but I surmise that he or another from the Council must have met with Ravenoak after his outburst in the War Chamber.

  “It’s time to get you in the carriage,” Fairden says, and gestures toward our black mode of transportation.

  “You know that I’m quite capable of walking with everyone else,” I say.

  “A carriage is always how the Queen is transported into the townships,” Fairden says as he pats the side of the vehicle in a series of thumps. “Built into the hull is an extra measure of protection. It’s best to take advantage of it until we know what we are getting into.”

  I don’t argue and step toward the carriage. Tristan offers a hand to help me in. The inside is luxurious, like everything else at the castle. The fluffy, royal blue seats give slightly as I settle in. Tristan and Fairden climb inside and take their places across from me. The door shuts with a click.

  “Onward,” Ravenoak’s muffled voice sounds from the outside.

  Through the overhead window, the darkness of the sky begins to be replaced with the faint orange glow of the sun. It’s as if a painter’s brushed long strokes of pink and orange to brighten the world. As I watch the show, the gravity of our situation really starts to sink in, and my stomach spasms with dread. The Queendom of Lore is at stake today, and I have no idea if I’m truly ready to protect her. How can a peasant girl do this?

  I blink from my thoughts and push away my doubt. There’s no place for it here.

  We must have been traveling for a while, because Borandice is already coming into view. The overgrown dirt roads make way to the familiar cobblestone paths similar to the ones around the castle grounds. Off the road a bit, I make out the stone walls that frame the entire town—as tall as two people stacked. Tendrils of ivy try to hide the gray stones, but there’s no missing this boundary. Built, no doubt, on the backs of the Relic class, and meant to keep those very same people out. I’ve never been here because of this, but Neil has described Borandice in his occasional letters to Mama. And, just as he wrote, the buildings are taller and grander than in Arlos, which always felt a bit small and dirty to him.

  Passing the well-guarded main entrance, we move through the town. This is one of several Tenant class towns dotted throughout the Queendom of Lore. Even though our lands only stretch out for several miles across, the people of Lore have populated almost every inch of it. Only the handful of Relic class towns and villages reside close to the deadly borders. As peasants, we had to take what we could get, I guess.

  A twinge in my heart throbs at how poorly the Relic class has been treated. I will change this. I will make things better.

  It doesn’t take long before our convoy reaches the heart of the town. The Institute is the tallest of the buildings, and I spot it right away on the skyline. Smooth cement walls reach up just above the horizon. Standing tall like a tower, this structure—unlike the other structures in Borandice—is meant to show importance and prestige. Is Neil there now? Is he even aware of what’s going on in Arlos, or even with me? My Queendom hasn’t been officially announced to the subjects yet. There hasn’t been time.

  The soldiers and my carriage pass through Borandice. For as early in the morning as it is, many people are crowding along the well-maintained streets. The news of the invasion must have reached them already. Curiosity mixed with an
xiety peppers the faces of those who watch us parade through the center of town.

  A few people wave, but most of them huddle together as families for security. I always thought poorly of Borandice and the other Tenant towns when I lived in Arlos, partly because I assumed that they thought themselves better than us. But scanning the crowd, I see only people. Their dress might be better, but all they want is peace and security, just like my family does.

  “Can they see me through the window?” I ask Fairden.

  He shakes his head. “The windows have been temporarily darkened. For your safety.”

  “They need to see me . . . not just the soldiers marching through their township.”

  A small crease forms between Fairden’s brows and he twists his lips for a moment, but eventually says, “Yes, Your Majesty,” and then touches the inside of the carriage beside the window. The inside of the cab brightens with the morning light, and several people outside perk up and strain to get a view of me.

  I raise my hand in greeting toward them and try to gently wave to as many people as I can. I make sure to keep an eye out for Neil, but, so far, no such luck. As we continue to travel through the town, many people wave back, and one woman even lowers herself to her child’s level and points my way. The girl’s worried mouth turns into a warm smile, and she waves at me.

  I smile and return the gesture, my chest filling with warmth.

  Tristan clears his throat and I peer his way.

  “We’re nearly out of the city,” he says. “I advise blackening the windows again. Who knows who we may meet along the road between here and Arlos.”

  Disappointment seeps through me, but I agree. Fairden darkens the windows once more.

  I let out a long sigh and steel myself, knowing that our next stop will be Arlos, my true home.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  THE CARRIAGE STOPS just on the outskirts of town, and the crunch of Ravenoak’s footsteps sound outside. My stomach drops as his stern face appears at the window and I squeeze my hands together on my lap. No turning back now.