Golden Crown

by M. Lynn

  She wasn’t the girl he’d loved before. There was so much more to her now. She wasn’t simply Etta. She’d taken up the mantle of Persinette Basile, queen of Bela. Who she was always meant to be.

  And that meant her destiny held no place for him.

  The door to his room opened and voices drifted in. “Honestly, I don’t know what the night guard was thinking leaving his post,” his mother said.

  “I’ll have a chat with him,” Tyson replied darkly. “He left Alex unprotected in his final…”

  Both sets of feet stopped as Alex shifted to sit up and lean back against the headboard. He was exhausted, just as Edmund said he would be. Each movement was a struggle.

  Two pairs of wide eyes stared at him. His mother let out a tiny gasp and covered her mouth. She looked like she’d been through hell. Tyson didn’t look much better, but he recovered more quickly and rushed the bed.

  “Alex?” he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

  “Hey, Ty.” Alex’s words broke the dam and his mother ran forward, all but throwing herself across Alex.

  “How is this even possible?” Tyson sat on the bed and stared at his brother like he’d disappear at any moment.

  “Etta–”

  “I told them we should have asked her to come right after your attack, but Camille wouldn’t hear of it.” Tyson said.

  Their mother finally recovered and sat back on the bed, not releasing Alex’s hand. “No one thought Etta’s presence would do any good. Belaens don’t have healing.”

  “Ones with Draconian blood do.” Alex waited for the reaction.

  She sucked in a breath.

  Tyson’s face scrunched up in horror. “Does that mean, as a Basile, I could’ve saved you all along?”

  Catrine put an arm around her son. “Not if the power is wrapped up in the Basile magic. That is Etta’s and Etta’s alone. She now holds the magic of each Basile who came before her alongside her own growth magic. One such Basile, it seems, had a child with a Draconian.” She looked away from them. “Is that why she came?”

  Alex coughed weakly. “She seemed as surprised as any of us.”

  “Then how did she call the magic forth?”

  “Probably the same way she blew up our gate,” Tyson guessed. “She can’t control any of it.”

  “Wait.” Alex tried to push himself up straighter and shook Tyson’s words from his mind. They’d go back to the blown-up gate thing. “If you didn’t summon her, why is Etta here?”

  For one single moment, a spark of hope lit in him. Had she felt him through the now-broken curse? Felt he needed her?

  A single match burns brightly only for a moment before the flame travels down to burn your skin.

  “She kidnapped Liza Leroy and brought her here.”

  Alex sputtered. “What?”

  “Alex,” his mother started. “We just got you back. All I want to do is hold my baby boy as I never thought I’d get to do again. Can we talk politics later?”

  Despite how deeply he wanted to understand what motivated a queen to travel into his kingdom when her own sat on the brink of war, he couldn’t deny his mother anything. Not when such joy shone in her eyes.

  She moved up next to him and wrapped one long arm around his shoulders. He rested against her and before long, the exhaustion took control and he drifted off.

  When he woke again, he found Edmund’s smiling eyes hovering over him.

  “Oh,” Alex groaned, trying to sit up. “That’s right. You’re here too.”

  Edmund’s grin widened. “I couldn’t miss the palace seeing their king basically come back from the dead.”

  “I wasn’t dead.”

  Edmund raised one blonde eyebrow. “If Etta hadn’t been here at that very moment, you would be. You should have seen it. I’ve been training with Etta practically every day and I haven’t ever seen anything like that.”

  “How do you help her when her power is that strong while yours… isn’t?”

  Edmund laughed. “I guess you can call me her magical punching bag.”

  “I’d pay good gold to see that.”

  When Edmund laughed, his entire body gave himself into it. “I’ve missed you, Alex.”

  Alex shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. He’d missed his best friend more than he’d ever admit. “Help me up.”

  “You really should stay in bed. At least until after the palace healer arrives to check you out.”

  “Why? I can feel it. I’m healed.”

  “Alex, healing magic is complicated. It uses your body’s own energy to repair the damage. Once it’s done, it takes a while to restore those energy reserves again.”

  “Just help me out of this bed.”

  Edmund held his hands in front of his chest in surrender. “Fine.”

  “Have you seen Etta?” He asked as soon as he had his feet under him. She hadn’t come by and he needed to see her, to feel her, to believe she was real.

  “She’s been avoiding everyone in the palace but I’ll give you one guess as to where she probably is.”

  “Right.” He laughed and then winced as the act hurt. “I should have guessed.”

  “Come on.” Edmund propped his shoulder under Alex’s arm to help him walk. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on seeing the love of your life.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  Edmund chuckled, shaking his head. “Who, me?”

  “You haven’t changed.”

  “Neither have you. I swear, you could be in the middle of the biggest battle of your life and if Etta needed her nose wiped, you’d go.”

  There was nothing malicious in his words. No jealousy. They were said with a genuine fondness that had always bonded them together. Even when Edmund had feelings for Alex, they’d never gotten in the way of their friendship. But something was different, and he realized what it was. The love between them had changed with Edmund acting more brotherly than anything else. It gave him some strange comfort, not because he minded Edmund’s feelings, but only because he wanted his friend to find happiness.

  By the time they reached the stables, Alex panted from the effort it took just to remain upright. Most of the horses stood locked away in their stalls, but a familiar dark beast sat in the middle of the exercise ring with his legs folded beneath him.

  “Isn’t that unnatural for a horse?” Alex asked.

  Edmund snorted. “Since when has there ever been anything natural about those two?”

  Etta sat in the dirt leaning against Vérité’s side, her legs stretched out in front of her. Her mouth moved and as they got closer, her words rang in the air.

  “It’ll be time for us to return home soon, boy. I know you don’t like it here.”

  Vérité threw his head back and bared his teeth.

  Etta sighed. “I know. Gaule isn’t our kingdom. I don’t like it here either. They don’t want us.”

  Alex wanted to yell that he did. He wanted her there, but all he could do was continue listening. Edmund shifted uneasily, but Alex ignored him. He looked back along the road where his guards were keeping their distance. Soon, Etta would notice them.

  “What am I going to do?” Etta continued. “They’re killing us, Verite. Our people.” She took the blade of grass she’d been playing with and flicked it. “I might be able to do it. I have the power. I can keep us alive and apart.”

  Apart. He sucked in a breath and she lifted her head as if she’d heard him. Their eyes met, and he pushed away from Edmund to open the gate and walk closer. It took every ounce of strength he had to lower himself to the ground in front of her.

  Their eyes stayed locked, and he set his jaw. “Tell me what’s happening in my kingdom. Why are you here, Etta?”

  Lord Christoph Leroy was executed on a hill blanketed in fog. The dawn had come and gone, but hazy colors still stretched across the sky. His youngest daughter hadn’t attended as he was hung by the neck. A traitor’s death. But the king was there, having regained his strength. H
e looked directly into the man’s eyes in the seconds before the platform he stood upon fell beneath him.

  There was no regret in the man’s gaze, only acceptance. He’d known it would come to this.

  Alex hadn’t. He’d been blind to the path that lay before them. He’d tried to spare the man’s life. He didn’t want to execute his nobles like he’d seen his father do during the purge. He’d wanted Leroy to accept his defeat gracefully, but there was no grace left in the man. As long as breath rattled in his chest, he’d stir up trouble. Liza Leroy hung beside her father but Lady Hinton had been granted mercy. Lord Leroy had exhausted all mercy in Gaule. They’d found a guard who’d been paid to run messages from Lord Leroy to his daughter Liza, plotting their actions.

  Alex refused to look away as Leroy kicked and twisted and struggled for breath.

  The queen of Bela stepped up beside him, her eyes fixated on the man who’d been killing her people. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

  He only nodded. Leroy’s actions weren’t her fault. She’d come to Gaule to fight for her people and he respected that.

  Her fingers grazed his arm, running over the pulse in his wrist until finally taking his hand. Warmth radiated out from where their skin connected. Was it her magic or just her?

  Water hit the top of his head and he looked up into the oncoming rain, the sun still peeking through the clouds. He shook the water out of his eyes and turned back toward the palace. He dropped Etta’s hand as he walked away.

  Even with Leroy gone, the unrest in his kingdom wouldn’t settle. He’d missed a lot from his sick bed. His advisors had been filling him in on the attacks. Both magic folk and the non-magic rebelled.

  Many of the magic folk had left Gaule for Bela where they believed they belonged, but he knew it wasn’t as easy as just making a journey. There was almost nothing in Bela. Etta and her people had created a kingdom from a land full of ruins and ghosts. It wasn’t an easy life, and many Belaens had chosen to stay in the only homes they’d ever known.

  Still, something would need to be done. They were dying.

  He glanced back over his shoulder at the hill. So were his own people.

  He’d reached the broken gates when a horse galloped toward him and reared back. “Your Majesty, there’s been an attack in the village.”

  Alex started running to the stables. His guards chased after him and began shouting orders for the stable hands to saddle their horses.

  Simon appeared at his side. “They’re saying the people in the village have a family of magic folk trapped in their home.”

  Was it never going to end? A boy brought Alex his horse, and he launched into the saddle before galloping through the outer castle and away from the high walls. His guards trailed along behind him and another horse took the lead. He glanced to the side, unsurprised to find Etta bending forward in the saddle and gripping Vérité’s reins.

  Another battle in this same village came to mind. It was the beginning of them, but also the night that started them on the path toward their end. Edmund had been arrested, changing everything Alex thought he knew about magic.

  The irony wasn’t lost on him as he found himself in the position of magic’s protector in Gaule.

  A mob crowded into the streets of the village and Alex slowed his horse. Men and women screamed and threw insults.

  Rain drizzled down, but it didn’t deter them.

  Where was Ara when he needed her? These people would never hear him.

  “Hey,” he yelled. No response. He forced his horse forward. People jumped out of the way to avoid being trampled.

  A squat house sat up ahead with a line of people blocking the doors to prevent anyone from leaving.

  “Magic has no place in Gaule,” someone screamed.

  “It’s the king,” another yelled. Those words worked their way through the throng of people and Alex waited for them to give him their attention, their respect.

  That moment didn’t come.

  “Hey magic lover,” a young boy called. Alex’s gaze found him seconds before the boy launched a spoiled apple at him. It struck him in the face and there was a stunned moment when it slid down before landing on the front of his jacket.

  A roar ripped through the crowd.

  “You aren’t our king!”

  “We will never follow you!”

  “Go back to your Belaen whore!”

  More food sailed through the air, striking him in the chest. Alex put a hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “No, Your Majesty,” Simon said.

  Alex breathed out. For a moment, he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone.

  Simon had been right. It would be a mistake to draw his sword in this mess. He tried to push closer to the house, to remember their objective, but his way was blocked.

  The eyes of a young girl peeked out the window before disappearing in an instant.

  What was he to do?

  A flash of light broke through the sky. At first, Alex thought it was lightning, but the crowd had gone silent.

  Etta’s face twisted in rage as she walked forward. She’d dismounted, and the people shrank away from her. Alex’s jaw fell open. Her hair glowed golden with her magic.

  She didn’t say a word as she continued her forward trek. She reached the line of people blocking the house and pushed her hands apart. They were flung aside, and she entered the house calmly.

  “Amazing, isn’t she?” Edmund asked in his ear.

  Alex wanted to ask Edmund when he’d gotten there, but didn’t take his focus from the door. Nervous chatter buzzed around him, only seconds away from turning back into hatred for magic.

  Alex gestured to his guards to stay by the door and pushed his way into the house.

  A single room living space greeted him.

  Etta, hair still bright, stood in front of a couple and three young children.

  “Your Majesty,” the woman said, curtsying awkwardly. When she rose, her eyes connected with Etta’s and in them was a devotion Alex had never experienced before. He’d seen the way the people of Bela followed their queen. They would follow her to the end of the world if so asked. It was the way of the Belaen people. Loyalty. Trust. And they hadn’t had a ruler in generations.

  Last time he’d seen Etta, she hadn’t known what to do with their faith. The Basile powers had been given to her, but her anger clouded everything else in her mind.

  This was not that girl.

  This was a queen.

  Etta touched the head of the youngest child softly.

  “Why are you in Gaule, your Majesty?” the man asked.

  Etta smiled. “I came to see all Belaens safe.”

  “Thank you.” Tears streamed down the woman’s face. “Thank you.”

  A crack of thunder burst through the air. “You’re going to have to leave your home.” She glanced at Alex quickly before looking back to them. “His Majesty of Gaule will provide you with horses but you must make your way to the border. Gaule isn’t safe for our kind.”

  The woman sniffled and her husband put a hand on her back before turning to Alex, bowing slightly. “Thank you, your Majesty. Be warned, sympathies in this village are not kind toward you. We are more thankful than you know for everything you have tried to do for magic folk, but it is also what’s going to tear your kingdom apart.”

  Alex pressed his lips together, feeling the truth of the man’s words. He nodded shortly.

  When they opened the door, the royal guardsmen held back the crowd. Their jeers slid down Alex’s back. The children were passed up onto horses and the couple doubled up with him and Etta.

  Rain pelted them as they left the mob behind. Their rebellion was not something that would leave Alex anytime soon.

  Back at the palace, he had his people deal with their newcomers and marched through the halls, his boots making wet prints as he did.

  He barged into his mother’s room to find her sitting with Duchess Moreau and Camille before the fire.

  “Alex,” she chastis
ed. “Honestly. You’re dripping all over my carpet.”

  “How bad is it mother?” he asked.

  “How bad is what, exactly?”

  “Don’t placate me. I am the king. Tell me how close my kingdom is from falling over the edge.”

  She sighed and set aside her teacup. “Come warm yourself by the fire, son. It is worse than you see.”

  He lowered himself into a chair, letting the warmth soak through his damp clothing.

  “I don’t know where to begin,” she said.

  “I do,” Camille jumped in. “They aren’t rebelling against the monarchy, Alexandre. They’re rising up against you.”

  “Me.”

  “Camille,” their mother snapped.

  Duchess Moreau took a sip of her tea, regarding him over the lip of the cup. “Camille speaks the truth, sire.”

  Alex sagged against the back of the chair.

  The duchess continued. “Inbred hatred is hard to destroy. Never mind the fact that some magic is truly evil. Their hatred means they can’t distinguish between the two. Until you, the monarchy stayed either silent on all things magic or spoke out against it. You are the first king in generations to openly support it. You cannot force people to accept something they’ve been taught to hate. Certainly, not overnight.”

  “So, they refuse to follow me.”

  “Not only that,” Camille said. “They’ve spent the past month while you’ve been ill marching and calling for your demise. They just didn’t know how close they came to getting their wish.”

  “Camille,” their mother said. “That is quite enough.”

  She shrugged but for once, Alex was grateful for her honesty.

  “I’ve failed you,” he said after a beat of silence.

  “Alex, no.” His mother reached out to take his hand, but he pulled it away.

  “Father told me I would. When I was a boy. I’ve been so determined to prove him wrong, to turn this family’s legacy around. I thought he destroyed Gaule, but it was me. Everyone told me I acted in haste. I didn’t think. I thought changes could be made with a few declarations from the king, but you can’t change what’s in people’s hearts.”

  “You changed what was in mine,” Camille’s voice quieted and he wasn’t sure if he heard her right.