by M. Lynn
“Etta.” Edmund knelt at her side.
She didn’t know why he insisted on being there for her every time the power built. They’d all lost count of how many times he’d been rendered unconscious or flung into the icy waves. It would be funny if each time didn’t prove just how little control she still had.
She’d had magic her entire life. Her earliest memories were of making things grow and come to life. Creating beauty in her forest. But the Basile power that had been unleashed when the curse ended was not that. Darkness lurked underneath it. It wanted to take over her whole body, controlling her. She had to be the one to control it.
If anyone had told her that her duties as queen would be the easiest part of her life, she’d have laughed in their faces. Compared to the days she spent molding and targeting her magic, dealing with her people was nothing. They were building something they could finally call their own. For so long, the Belaens only had what they’d been allowed to have in Gaule.
“I think we’re done for today.” Esme wiped a hand across her tired face.
Etta flicked her eyes back over her shoulder to give the woman a grateful nod before watching her head back toward camp. A trust had been growing between the two. Each day, Esme and Edmund trudged down the path to the beach to help her. They never complained. They never even called her queen. To them, she was Etta. Not Persinette Basile. There’d been little talk of the danger looming overland behind the high mountain walls.
Everything seemed quiet, but they knew it was not. La Dame was only biding her time. She would come for them.
Etta pushed up to sit back on her heels.
Edmund dropped down beside her, twirling a lock of her glowing hair around his finger. “I’ll never get used to this.”
“You won’t?” She rolled her eyes. “I can feel it.”
“What do you mean you can feel it?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know.” Pulling the golden strands over her shoulder, she fingered the ends. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like… a living thing. That sounds stupid.”
“What do you think it means?”
She shrugged again and lifted her eyes to the dark waters. “When I was a child, my mother would spend hours brushing it. She’d tell me that one day my beauty would give me power. Do you think this is what she meant?”
“Like it’s the source of your power?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always had magic. You have too… but now… I’m not used to the amount of power I have. I guess I’m just looking for a reason.”
“This is really odd. You know that, right?”
She laughed. “Yes, Edmund. My life is just about as odd as you can get. I’m well aware of that fact.”
He bumped her shoulder. “But also exciting. You have more power than I’ve ever seen.” He shook his head as if unable to believe his own words.
A small smile played on her lips and she rested her chin on her knees.
Edmund stood up slowly and dropped into a bow, extending a hand to her. “Your Majesty, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to a meal?”
She took his hand and let him pull her up. “You may.” She grinned.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and started up the path. Matteo greeted them at the door to their small ramshackle residence. He dipped his head in respect as he insisted upon doing. Etta was getting used to being treated like royalty. She didn’t like it, but she accepted it.
“The final hunting party of the season returned this afternoon,” he said.
She snapped her eyes to his in anticipation. Food stores were their biggest worry for riding out the winter.
Matteo smiled. “They brought back quite the haul.”
She exhaled the breath she’d been holding.
“With the salt we’ve acquired from Madra, a team has been working to prepare the meat.”
She nodded. The last ships that arrived on their shores not only brought trade goods but more Belaens returning to their kingdom from countries across the sea. Word was spreading about the imminent battle and they were a proud people. Magic folk who’d never set foot in Bela would give their lives for the kingdom that should be their home.
Etta sat down as Matteo set a wooden bowl of stew in front of her. She tasted the fresh rabbit with the first bite and let out a low moan.
Edmund chuckled from his place beside Matteo and her cousin looked at the big blond affectionately.
They were speaking in low voices when Etta finished and decided to walk out among her people. Many of them were sitting out around fires instead of in their homes. She nodded as she passed by and curious eyes followed her.
“Henry.” She smiled, leaning down to hug the young boy from behind. He jumped and spun, a smile splitting his face.
“Etta!”
Someone coughed behind him and he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry. Your Majesty, it’s good to see you.” He attempted a bow and Etta stifled a laugh as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.
“Just between you and me, I prefer Etta.”
When she leaned away, he was grinning. She looked past him to the circle of people. A few more children sat nearby, their eyes wide with fear at her presence.
“Would you like to have a seat, your Majesty?” Analise asked in her sweet voice.
Etta shook her head ruefully. “I must be getting back. I only wanted to say hello and make sure you all were doing well.”
“We’ve never been better,” Analise said honestly. “Living so openly among magic folk is more than we could have ever dreamed of.”
Etta couldn’t help but glance at their surroundings. People had been using their magic and hard work to build a new Bela they could be proud of, but it still only consisted of the small village where her people had to share homes.
But Analise was happy and Etta felt something stir within the emptiness inside her. It had been a long time since she felt anything. No fear or hope or love. She thought everything she had was tied up in the curse, but maybe it didn’t have to be.
She was the queen of Bela. Maybe everything she had could be tied up in her people.
When she fell asleep that night, the loneliness she’d known since La Dame lifted the curse, felt like less of a burden after all.
As the sound of the first cook fires of the morning began outside, Etta sat on her bed with her knife between her teeth. It was time for a test.
When she’d disguised herself to save Alex, she had cut off her hair, but it grew back the moment the Basile powers woke within her.
Pulling her hair to the front, Etta studied the golden locks and held a section in her hand. Grabbing her knife with the other, she held it against the strands and sucked in a breath as she began to saw.
It sliced through her hair easily as she jerked it back and forth. Hair fell around her on the bed but she didn’t stop until she was all the way through.
For a moment, she stared at the jagged edges of the hair that was left, waiting. The door banged open, and she jerked upright, accidentally dragging the blade of her knife against her arm. Cursing, she dropped it and pressed her hand over the cut.
Matteo rushed forward. “Etta, what on earth are you doing?”
She held back the tears that sprang forth. Her arm stung and now her hair was a wreck. Her assumptions about her hair were wrong.
Her cousin grabbed a towel and pressed it to her arm. “You’re needed in the throne room.”
She almost laughed at that. The throne room was basically a tiny room that had a single chair and no other adornments.
She stood silently, letting the cut hair flutter to the floor.
Matteo shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you, cousin.”
“What’s so urgent that I can’t wash first?” she asked. “Or at least fix this.” She gestured to her lopsided hair.
“I think you should hear it from the messenger that has arrived.”
“Fine.” She swung her cloak around her
shoulders.
Edmund met them outside. “What happened to you?” He eyed her lopsided hair
She grunted and picked up her pace. People were crowded into the throne room. They parted for her as she walked toward the chair.
Arguing commenced among those present.
“She can’t go,” someone yelled.
“There’s no choice,” another retorted.
“She promised to protect all her people, not just those who came to her.”
Etta sat, smoothing her cloak around her. A few of the quieter attendees seemed confused by her haphazard appearance, but none spoke of it.
“Quiet,” she snapped.
The fight continued.
“Hey,” she yelled.
Still no use.
She’d never used her magic around so many people, but as her frustration grew, she saw no other option.
Putting a hand to her throat, she poured magic into her voice, making it reverberat around the room. “Quiet.”
The room stilled.
Edmund grinned proudly. That was the most control she’d shown yet.
As soon as the power shot through her, her head began to tingle as the golden strands of her hair lit up and began to lengthen where she had cut them, until it was as if her test had never happened.
Wide eyes stared at her from every corner of the small space. Her power sizzled around them, but she kept the reins tight, not letting it break free. It strained within her. This is wrong, she thought. It shouldn’t be leashed. But those weren’t Etta’s own thoughts. The magic invaded her mind. She used every bit of energy to push it away.
“Now,” she said, trying to infuse calm into her voice. “Someone tell me what has happened.”
A man in travel-stained clothing lurched forward as someone pushed him. He fell to his knees before her, raising his face to her in awe. “It’s true. We’ve heard the stories in Gaule… but you really do have the ancient Basile power.”
Etta was losing patience. “I do and I will release every bit of it on you if you don’t tell me why I’m here.”
He gulped as if he believed every word.
“I come from Gaule.”
She leaned forward. They hadn’t had news from Gaule since learning of Alex’s victory against his traitorous nobles the month before.
“Tell me,” she growled.
“T-they… M-my father sent me. He’s a farmer on land owned by one of the nobles who went against the king.”
“Go on.”
“People have been disappearing. Not all magic folk could just pick up their entire lives and go to an unknown kingdom. Now they’re being taken prisoner.”
Etta clenched her jaw. “What has the king of Gaule done about this?”
“No one can get to him. After the battle, he shut the palace. The outer castle is abandoned by all but the royal guard and no one is allowed inside the inner castle. He isn’t holding court or meeting with his people.”
“Duchess Moreau… Duke Caron, what about them?”
“They have yet to return to their estates, your Majesty.”
Etta leaned back and closed her eyes briefly. “So, the king is not running his own country.”
“He is, your Majesty. He’s sending out his guard to keep order. The problems occur once the guards leave a territory. He isn’t a bad king, just a trusting one, and in Gaule, no one can be trusted. The king is allowing his council and his generals to have control over keeping order. They are the ones appearing to the people, trying to restore faith in the king. But the citizens of Gaule need to see their king. I’m sorry, I don’t have any more information for you.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You can go.”
Matteo and Edmund cleared out the throne room and then stayed behind.
Edmund was fuming. “How could Alex just stay behind his walls and turn his back on magic folk? After everything he’s done… he basically went to war with his own nobles to protect our people!”
“Edmund,” Etta warned. “Calm down.”
Matteo put a hand on his arm to hold him back and his breathing relaxed.
“Alex isn’t stupid,” she said almost to herself. “What is he doing?”
Matteo released Edmund and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to defend that Gaulean bastard… ever… but I think he’s just trying to avoid a civil war.”
“They already had one.” Edmund sat on the arm of Etta’s chair.
“No.” Matteo shook his head. “They had one battle, not a war. Alexandre is walking a thin line. He can’t round up the troublemaking nobles without an even bigger uprising on his hands. The only tool he has in his pocket is the army – which is much depleted without men from the nobles he’s policing.”
“He’s waiting,” Edmund jumped in.
“For what?” Etta leaned her head back to glance up at him.
“For La Dame to make her next move.”
“Not only that,” Matteo mused. “Alexandre isn’t acting like a king with absolute power. He’s going to roll back the decrees his father pushed through.”
Understanding lit in Edmund’s eyes. “Because he thinks the rebellion was against a king, not the kingdom. I know Alex better than anyone. I should’ve seen this coming. He’s never believed one person should have control over Gaule.”
Matteo nodded. “Makes sense. That would be why Duchess Moreau and Duke Caron are still at the palace. They’re his biggest allies. They’d help with the transition.”
Etta sighed. “This doesn’t address the bigger issue. It isn’t our concern whether the people of Gaule rise up. Our job is to ensure the safety of the Belaens who still reside in Gaule.”
“What do you want to do?” Matteo asked.
“I have to go to Gaule.”
Matteo shook his head vigorously. “Absolutely not. Not when the people here need you and La Dame is our biggest danger.”
“Cousin.” She pursed her lips. He wasn’t wrong, but something didn’t sit right with her. If La Dame was coming for them, she would have done so by now. She sucked in a breath, recalling Esme’s words. “She won’t attack.”
“How do you possibly know that?”
“Because she’s waiting for us to come to her. For me.” She wants you to stand at her side.
Matteo crossed his arms. “Going into Gaule is too dangerous. We can send someone else.”
She stood and fixed him with a stare. “No. I refuse to abandon my own people.”
Matteo met Edmund’s eye as if pleading him to talk sense into her, but Edmund only nodded. “She’s right.”
Matteo sighed. “Then you have to take our best fighters.”
“No. We don’t have the horses to spare and you need every man and woman here.”
“You can’t go alone. You’re the queen.”
She got to her feet and walked toward him. “Matteo, there is only one person on this earth who could do me harm and if she comes for me, no amount of Belaen fighters will help. I need to do this. Our people need me. Plus, I won’t be alone. Edmund is coming with me.”
“Darn right I am.” Edmund draped an arm over her shoulders.
Matteo’s lips turned down. “And what am I supposed to tell everyone here? That their queen has just wandered off?”
“No.” Her hair slapped against her back as she shook her head. “No lies. Be honest with them. Always. When I return, our people will be safer. Until then, it is up to you to take charge of things here. Can I count on you?”
“Always.”
She squeezed his arm on her way out the door. “Tomorrow, we return to Gaule.”
Chapter Eight
Gaule stretched out before them like a flower, ready to be picked. It was no secret that the kingdom had thrived over the years due to the wards Etta’s father had protected them with—even after they’d betrayed him.
He could have brought the wards down and left Gaule open to La Dame’s desires, but he’d never blamed the people fo
r their king’s misdeeds, and there had still been a need to keep the king alive, if only so Viktor himself lived.
Etta was not her father.
She stood next to Edmund atop a hill that looked down into one of the prosperous villages on the Leroy lands, cursing every person below who allowed her people to suffer. They were complicit. They were hateful. She had experienced enough scorn from the Gaulean people to rid herself of her father’s noble ideas of equality.
These people were not equal to her. She could destroy that village with one wave of her hand. The power boiled in her blood and it took every ounce of strength she possessed to hold it back. Was this what she’d been afraid of? She hadn’t wanted to accept the power and everything that came with it.
The magic made her angry, calling for the blood of all who went against her.
Vérité snorted, resting his soft nose on her shoulder, and the anger began slipping away. Closing her eyes, she slammed up the rest of her walls around her magic to keep it from breaking through. She was getting better at holding it back, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Keeping the power under control felt wrong. It wanted to be free.
Edmund stiffened beside her as he craned his neck to see something in the distance. A small gasp escaped his throat. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
Etta swallowed back the rising bile and nodded. Outside the village, bodies dangled from trees.
With a grunt of disgust, Etta mounted Vérité and snapped the reins. Edmund followed her down into the village. As they neared the trees, faces came into view. Men. Women. Children. Etta didn’t allow herself to divert her eyes. They deserved to be seen. Something had happened here, and it sent a chill straight to her heart. A stillness sat heavy in the surroundings and Etta lowered her head, hoping they were at peace.
Once inside the village, they were able to get lost in the crowds of the market. It was much busier than any village she’d ever seen, but a heaviness choked the air. These were the people who had been called to rise up against Alex. Despite her complicated feelings for the king of Gaule, she hated those who would defy him and try to take his throne.