Golden Crown

by M. Lynn

  They dismounted and walked the rest of the way to their meeting point. One of her people still living in Gaule was taking an enormous risk in helping them.

  A hooded figure appeared next to her. “Your Majesty.”

  Etta pulled Vérité to a stop. “Tanner?”

  “Keep moving.” The voice was obviously that of a woman, which surprised Etta. She glanced once at Edmund before allowing herself to be led into an alleyway.

  “My husband will tend the horses.” They stopped at a slightly broken door and an older man appeared, wordlessly taking the reins of their horses.

  Tanner ushered them inside and shut the door. Etta pushed back the hood of her cloak and took a turn around the room. Sparse furnishings sat haphazardly in the corner near a cook stove. A small bed rested against the opposite wall. Was this how all her people lived in Gaule?

  “Did anyone stop you in the streets?” Tanner asked.

  “No.” Edmund shook his head, his short blond hair catching the glow of the candlelight.

  “Good. The village hasn’t been patrolled in a few days since the last batch of prisoner executions.”

  “The bodies outside the village?”

  She nodded.

  “Some of them were children,” Edmund growled. “What could they have possibly done to warrant losing their lives?”

  Tanner looked quizzically at Edmund. “Do? They don’t have to do anything. They have magic. That’s enough.”

  Etta paced. “I should have had people watching Lord Leroy. These are his lands and we should’ve seen something like this coming.”

  Tanner shook her head. “Lord Leroy hasn’t returned from the battle. He’s now a prisoner in the dungeons.”

  “Then who…”

  “His daughter.”

  Etta sucked in a breath. “But Amalie wouldn’t—”

  “Not Lady Amalie. Her sister, Lady Liza returned after their father was captured. Her husband is said to have died, leaving her in charge of both his forces and her father’s. She’s increased the hangings since her father was taken.”

  “What about the king?” Etta asked. The Alex she knew would never stand for this.

  “The king hasn’t been seen since the night of the battle. His soldiers patrol the roads but many of them are of similar views as Leroy and his eldest daughter so they don’t take their guardianship of all Gauleans seriously. The king posted guards at the Leroy estate after the battle but they haven’t been seen. My man inside says they were killed.”

  “Why are you still here if it’s so dangerous?” Edmund asked.

  “We can’t abandon those with no other way to get out. We’ve been smuggling people to the Caron and Moreau lands but the last group we sent was captured and now dangle from trees.”

  Etta pressed the heel of her hand against her eyes. “If the king of Gaule won’t protect the people within his borders, I will. But I can’t start a war. Can you get me into the estate?”

  A smile spread across her weathered face and she dipped her head. “Of course, my queen. It would be my honor.”

  Preparations only took a day and before she knew it, Etta was standing in the shadowy hall surrounded by the more well-to-do villagers and nearby nobles. Tanner was at her side, but Edmund had been forced to stay behind to prepare for their swift departure.

  The plan had come to her quickly and now she knew it was the right thing to do. Lucky for her, the people who lived in this part of Gaule had never seen her. Some of the nobles had, so she avoided being too near them as she walked the length of the room.

  Liza Leroy sat in a chair that was raised almost as if it were a throne. Did she fashion herself a queen? Etta had met the girl once before when her father brought his daughters before the king at the coronation ball. She’d only just arrived at the palace and become protector, so the night had been a blur. But she remembered the girl now. The giggling young woman with delicate features now had a scowl set firmly in place. What happened to her? Why had she chosen to follow her father so blindly instead of taking her sister’s path?

  The man standing beside her turned and locked eyes with Etta. Flashes of the ebony council room table entered her mind. This was one of the nobles who’d sat there in the days after Alex was taken.

  Etta tried to remember his name and failed. As if sensing Etta’s thoughts, the man’s eyes widened in recognition, but he didn’t move to warn Liza. Etta only had a moment before her presence would be known.

  She placed a hand on her throat to amplify her voice.

  “Liza Leroy,” she said darkly.

  Those in attendance turned wildly to find the source of the voice. Etta stepped closer to the front and continued. “You have failed.”

  The lady’s gaze finally found her and she reveled in the fear she found in Liza’s eyes.

  “You thought you could destroy us as your father did before you, bring us to our knees. You considered us weak, unworthy, but it is you who is weak.” She stopped right in front of the woman, feeling every set of eyes on her back.

  Throwing one hand out to the side, she let the edges of her magic leak out. The flames lighting the room extinguished and party-goers yelled in fear as they were thrown into darkness.

  Their fear kept Etta going. She wanted to be feared. Leaning down, the only light coming from her glowing hair, she met Liza’s eyes, hers narrowing.

  “Remember me, my lady?” She smiled.

  “Sorcerer,” she spat.

  She nodded. “I can see it. The fear seeping from your every pore. You’re right to be scared of me. Tell me, were my people scared before you strung them up?”

  “Your people,” she scoffed. “They were Gauleans living on my father’s land. They belonged to us and I had every right to do with them as I saw fit.”

  Etta pursed her lips and straightened before turning to the assembled people. “I am Persinette Basile, Queen of Bela. Anyone who harms the magic folk, my people, has harmed me.”

  “You’re just a girl.” The growl came from behind her and she turned to face the man beside Liza. Lord Hinton. The name came to her as she studied his face.

  “You can’t beat us,” he went on, “just like that boy king can’t.”

  “Just a girl?” Etta cocked her head. “Okay.” She made like she was going to walk away before loosening the tight control on her magic and letting its light curl in her hands before throwing it squarely at the lord’s chest.

  He was lifted into the air and slammed back against the wall. His arms flew over his head and stuck to the wall. He couldn’t move as Etta stepped closer.

  “Do I have your attention now?” she asked simply.

  Her magic begged her to rip his heart right from his chest. To allow it to drain the life from his eyes.

  But the queen of Bela couldn’t march into Gaule and kill nobles.

  She refused to give in to the whims of the power inside her. She knew it was only a short jump into darkness.

  She directed her next words to the people. “I am taking Lady Liza and Lord Hinton to the palace of Gaule. If you try to stop me, I won’t hesitate to destroy this entire despicable estate and every village that rose up against Alexandre Durand. If you don’t believe I can, then try to stop me. I promise you’ll regret it.”

  The candles roared back to life, and no one stopped her as she ripped Lord Hinton from the wall, using her magic to render him unconscious. She pulled Liza forward, sending her mind into the same darkness.

  The crowd gave her a wide berth and Leroy was pulled along behind her with her power. Tanner appeared at her side and jerked her head to a cluster of people who looked more well-dressed than the simple villagers.

  “Some of the other nobles who joined Leroy in his rebellion,” Tanner explained.

  Etta stopped. They cowered as she turned toward them. Two men and one woman who looked different from the rest.

  “Have they been arresting magic folk?” Etta asked.

  “That one has.” She pointed one long fin
ger at a young woman in a dress of purple velvet. Her beauty concealed her rotten core.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Lady Hinton.”

  “Ah, the lord’s wife.” Etta considered the woman for a moment. Lady Hinton’s eyes were made of ice. “Lady Hinton.” The woman began walking toward her against her will. Etta tugged as if she had the lady on a string.

  The scowl never left her face as she met Etta’s eyes without any of the fear Lord Hinton had possessed.

  “You’ll be accompanying us as well.” With that, Etta turned and marched from the room, her magic pulling her three prisoners after her.

  Night had descended outside, but Etta didn’t want to spend any more time in this place than she had to. Relief flooded her when she found Edmund with a wagon. His horse and another were pulling it while Vérité waited to the side. He lifted his head when he spotted her and kicked the ground.

  Tanner thanked them, but Etta waved her off. “What kind of queen would I be if I didn’t protect all of my people?”

  One corner of the woman’s mouth lifted. “The normal kind.”

  Etta shrugged and climbed onto Vérité’s back. She gave Tanner a small wave and kicked her heels to get off of Leroy’s lands as quickly as possible.

  Etta had spent her life preparing to be a protector. It was the role she’d been born into. Maybe being queen wasn’t so different from that. She must sacrifice her life for theirs. She was made to serve. To fight.

  The curse had given her no choice but to fulfill her purpose. The crown wasn’t so different.

  It was just a different kind of curse. At that thought, the emptiness inside of her began to fill. The curse had always connected her to something, someone. Without it, she’d been alone.

  But she wasn’t alone. She had Bela and every one of her people. The crown connected her to them.

  Curse. Chains. Crown. None of them made her a prisoner. Not anymore.

  Chapter Nine

  The walls hadn’t changed. In Etta’s mind, she’d expected them to be battered from the battle for control of Gaule. But unlike the Gaulean people, they hadn’t broken.

  Etta had kept Liza Leroy and Lord and Lady Hinton unconscious for the entire journey. They’d encountered no trouble and now Etta stood looking up at the impregnable fortress, a foreign queen demanding to be heard.

  But there was no one there. The outer gate looked all but deserted.

  Annoyance sparked the inferno of Etta’s magic and the wind blew around her, lifting her hair from the back of her neck as she tried to rein it in.

  Suddenly, returning here didn’t feel right. She should have stayed in Bela.

  Her control slipped, releasing sparks from her fingers as she tried to hold the power back. Memories rushed toward her. The day her father died and she’d been brought behind those walls for the first time. Becoming protector.

  Alex. Every moment they spent wrapped up in each other assaulted her.

  Her imprisonment.

  Then her escape. Twice, she’d been forced to flee from Gaule.

  The memories warred against each other, the bad fighting for dominance over the good.

  Her magic rose, pushing out through her skin. She jerked her head from side to side. “Edmund,” she pushed out. “I can’t.”

  “Etta,” he said calmly. “Get control.”

  An image of Edmund sitting in a dirty cell flashed across her mind. The people inside that palace had done so much to hurt them.

  “I can’t,” she bit out moments before the power blasted out of her.

  It struck the wall, surging through the barrier, breaking it apart. They dove behind the wagon as a barrage of stone rained down. Etta covered her head with her hands, unable to call enough magic to form a protective barrier.

  The drumming of rocks slowed amid screams from the horses and Etta lifted her head to check for injuries.

  “Edmund,” she called, coughing as the dust entered her lungs.

  “Etta,” he groaned. “You really hate this place, don’t you?”

  Etta didn’t respond. She couldn’t explain it, how the emotions fueled her magic. She didn’t hate the palace… her magic did. She’d lost control, the very thing she was afraid of. She tried to use the wagon to pull herself up, but her legs gave out beneath her and a sob pushed past her lips.

  They’d been working to control her magic and one look at the walls she both hated and couldn’t hate, and her strength was gone.

  People came running, but they didn’t near Etta as her hair was still aglow.

  Edmund threw his hands in the air. “We’re only here to see the king.”

  Murmurs of disbelief worked through the guards who now had their swords at the ready.

  A harsh voice echoed among the others. “If you’re here to see the king, why the hell did you just destroy the only thing keeping him safe?” Camille stepped forward, leaning on her cane. “Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t care, Etta. You can’t see Alex.” She turned to the guards. “Arrest them.”

  Chapter Ten

  Etta lifted her head off the cool ground of the cell, her energy failing her. It wasn’t the same cell she’d been kept in before, but it might as well have been. Stone walls rose on three sides with a wrought-iron gate for the fourth.

  No comforts existed within those walls. Nothing that would make her believe she was anything but a prisoner. Again.

  No, she couldn’t be a prisoner. She was the queen of Bela, not merely Etta anymore. She wanted to scream for someone to let her out, but no sound came out.

  “Hey.” Edmund kneeled next to her. “You’re awake.”

  “Seems so.” She pushed up before falling back.

  Edmund put a hand on her back to help her sit. The magic she’d used sucked everything out of her. As soon as the cell door slammed shut, locking them in, she’d fallen asleep.

  The fog in her mind began to clear as she shook her head. Golden strands broke free of her braid, falling forward around her face.

  “Where are our prisoners?” she asked.

  Edmund shrugged. “At least this time we’re in here together.” He suppressed a grin.

  She raised a brow. “Of course you’d make jokes right now.”

  “Oh, come on, Etta. It’s like coming full circle. You and I are prisoners of Gaule again. There has to be some sort of irony in that.”

  She curled her fingers into fists, trying to build the magic in her arms and push it through the rest of her body to wash away the exhaustion. Her limbs began to strengthen until she no longer had to rely on Edmund’s assistance to sit.

  Edmund’s eyes widened. “When did you learn to do that?”

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Just now, I guess.”

  His eyes twinkled. “If you can replenish your magical energy…” He didn’t need to finish the thought as he blew out a long breath.

  “Now we just need to figure out how to get out of here.”

  “Do you think Alex knows we’re his prisoners?”

  Etta didn’t miss the hope in his voice. He didn’t want to imagine Alex betraying him again. “He’s the king, Edmund. Why wouldn’t he know?”

  Edmund shifted his eyes to his hands. “Camille may be doing this all on her own.”

  Etta wanted to believe his words. Had the Alexandre Durand she’d known changed so much in just a short time apart? He was letting her people suffer. Did he now side against magic folk? What happened to him?

  She scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm around his back. “I’m sorry, but when you stayed in Bela, you chose a side. Alex has determined that side is the enemy. He’s probably released Leroy and his daughter by now.” She closed her eyes and her breath stuttered. “And he has Verite.”

  “I’m sorry. I know what Vérité means to you.”

  Etta climbed to her feet. “It’s okay. I can get him back. I’ll tear this place apart stone by stone if I have to. If Gaule is once again turning on magic folk, we must return to Bela to
prepare.”

  “Prepare for what?”

  “Whatever comes.” She extended a hand to Edmund. “We are no longer prisoners, Edmund. I am a queen and you are everything Gaule lacks. If they stand against us, they will lose.”

  He clasped her hand and stood.

  “Not prisoners,” he said as if to remind himself. “Not this time.”

  Etta shot him a grim smile before turning to the door. Her control had returned, and she blasted the door off its hinges. It crashed against the wall with a loud clang. Other prisoners roused themselves with yells of surprise. Etta tried to pick out Lord Leroy’s voice among them. Tanner had said he was being held here.

  Once the ringing in Etta’s ears quieted, an eerie stillness crept in. “Come on.” She led Edmund through the labyrinth of halls past full cells.

  It wasn’t until they reached the stairs that they heard it. Footsteps.

  “Camille,” someone snapped. “You had no right.”

  “Of course I did. I have every right to lead Gaule when he—”

  “He wouldn’t want you anywhere near his throne,” the man growled. “And he wouldn’t let you imprison—” The steps on the stairs stopped as Camille and Tyson came into view.

  Tyson’s eyes widened when he caught sight of Etta and Edmund before a slow grin spread across his boyish face. He turned to Camille. “I told you they’d probably have escaped by now. You can’t hold Persinette Basile.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Edmund barked out a laugh, his shoulders relaxing. “See, Etta. If Ty didn’t know we were down here, what are the chances Alex did?”

  The smile slipped from Tyson’s face for only a fraction of a second before it came back. Unkempt scruff covered his cheeks and dark circles ringed his eyes, but he was still Tyson.

  They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Tyson bounded down the rest of the steps and didn’t stop moving until he had Etta wrapped in his arms. A shudder ran through him as he buried his face in Etta’s shoulder.