Page 101 of Destiny Redeemed
Red was good—vicious and unpredictable. But Anderic was better, his technique honed by years of royal training. When Red attempted a deceptive feint, Anderic anticipated it, driving his sword through the mercenary’s heart.
“For Aetheria,” Anderic declared, pulling his blade free as Red collapsed.
The remaining gang members, seeing their leader fall, finally broke and ran.
“We’ve won,” I realized, watching the enemy retreat through the breaches they’d created.
“Not yet,” Anderic replied grimly. “Where’s Chancellor Darian?”
* * *
The palace throne room should have been a sanctuary, but even here, the battle had left its mark. Tapestries torn, furniture overturned, guards lying dead at their posts.
“Father!” Noah’s voice echoed as he embraced Duke Eldrick. “Thank God you came.”
“When I received Prince Anderic’s message, I rallied the other dukes,” Eldrick explained. “We couldn’t let the capital fall.”
“Has anyone seen the King?” Lennox demanded, bloodied but still standing.
A cold feeling crept up my spine. “Where is His Majesty?”
“The royal chambers,” Queen Felicia said, a thin line of blood trailing from her temple. “We were fighting side by side when we got separated. He was heading there with his personal guard when the east wing was breached.”
Anderic was already moving. “Lennox, with me. The rest of you, secure the throne room.”
“I’m coming too,” I insisted, following before he could protest.
The royal wing was eerily quiet after the chaos of battle. Too quiet. The doors to the King’s chambers stood ajar, the guards outside lying in pools of blood.
“Ambush,” Lennox whispered, drawing his sword.
Anderic pushed the door open slowly. Inside, more bodies—the King’s personal guard, dispatched with cold efficiency.And there, struggling with King Arnald near the royal bed, was Chancellor Darian Thornwood, trying to maintain his grip on a dagger pressed to the King’s throat.
Despite a bleeding gash across his shoulder and his formal attire torn from combat, King Arnald was hardly submissive. His muscular arm strained against Darian’s wrist, keeping the blade from pressing deeper, while his free hand gripped the Chancellor’s arm.
“One step closer, and His Majesty joins his ancestors,” Darian warned, his cultured voice strained with effort as he fought to control the still-resisting monarch.
King Arnald, jaw clenched with determination, met his son’s gaze. “Anderic.”
“Father.” Anderic lowered his sword slightly. “Chancellor, you’ve lost. Your allies flee. Surrender now, and you may yet keep your head.”
Darian laughed, a hollow sound. “Surrender? To be executed for treason? I think not, Your Highness.”
“What did you hope to achieve?” I asked, inching slowly to the left while keeping his attention. “Even if you’d taken the city, the dukedoms would never have accepted your rule.”
“The dukedoms will fall in line when they see the economic advantages I offer,” Darian’s lip curled into a smirk. “Power comes in many forms—the crown, the sword, and the purse. I intend to control them all.”
I continued circling, looking for an opening. “Your ambition has always exceeded your ability, Chancellor.”
“Yet here I stand, with a blade to your king’s throat,” Darian countered. “Your father never understood the game we played. Always my rival, yet never my equal.”
My eyes narrowed at the mention of my father. “Leave him out of this.”
“Why should I? The fool made everything so convenient.” Darian’s smile was cruel. “When I learned he wanted to sabotage Earl Magnus, I couldn’t believe my luck.”
The King’s eyes widened slightly, but he remained focused on the dagger at his throat.
“Magnus was getting greedy,” Darian spat. “He was supposed to be my puppet in the Ministry of Revenue; he started threatening me for more money and more power. He needed to be removed, but I needed someone else to take the blame.”
