Page 7 of The Court of Secrets
“So many also fought with Edgar, against you. The ancestors will not allow them into the spirit realm.” His words were sly, smooth as polished stone.
I shook my head. “If the ancestors see it fit to punish them, then who are we to take matters into our own hands?” I spoke clearly, with full intention for this matter to be set to rest immediately. “We let any opposing my rule be, unless we have no choice. I would rather bring them around than wipe them out. They are still lunas,” I said, feeling unnerved, knowing of previous assassination attempts on prior monarchs. “Is there anything else we must discuss, or can I go?”
He turned on his heel, clasping his fingers behind his back, and looked out of the arched windows at a foggy courtyard. “All other matters can be discussed at the council meeting. For now…” He paused for a second, although I was sure it was for effect. “It seems we are a standstill regarding sending forces to aid the rebels fighting against Kiros. We will have to take it to the council.”
I knew being back would be a challenge, but he was opposing me and taking it to a vote. He and my father had always been on the same side, so his opposition shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Although I found it hard to believe Vahaga would ever consider any man a friend, I do think my father came pretty close.
“Then we shall vote,” I said boldly, daring in my stance as if I had any chance of winning. I had to find a way. Because the truth was deadly. If we attacked Berovia and the truth came out, I could die. They had never kidnapped me. I’d been captured while already in Berovia, and that tidbit of information stood between my innocence and guilt. If I had been in Magaelor at the time of his death, it would change everything. They would think me a liar and wonder if I’d killed my father. We had argued, and I had escaped. Anyone who was anyone knew he and I were at odds and he had brought Edgar to the castle. It wouldn’t take a scholar to add two and two together.
If it ever got out that I killed my father, Vahaga would be the first to send me to the executioner’s block.
***
I tossed and turned, my bed feeling more like a prison than a place of rest. I knew Cedric had wanted to stay with me, to cuddle like we’d done on those cold nights in Niferum before the battle, but I couldn’t with so many watching eyes. The lords, priests, and priestesses here, especially Vahaga, would be furious if they thought me to be in anyone’s bed chambers but my own. A part of me wanted to do it, but being queen didn’t mean I could. I felt my influence dwindle in the meeting today with Vahaga, and the voice inside me that always said I’d be okay wasn’t there. In its place, a sense of doom loomed.
Tomorrow I had my first resolution in the morning, a trial where a person of minor criminal activity would be brought before the monarchy and their fate decided. It was a silly tradition, as it was not my position to hold rulings over the sentences of criminals and other grievances between lunas, but it appeased the people, the lords, and priestesses. Once a month, people were brought in. Sometimes, my father would leave the rulings to my mother when they were still together, before André’s death.
André.
My heart ached when I thought of him and how he should have been king, yet somewhere along the way, fate had decided differently. I still had to avenge him, since I knew who was responsible. Cedric’s brother would pay for André’s life with his own. It was the expected and honorable thing to do—in Magaelor anyway. Until that day came, I had to focus on the present.
Sleep came in waves. My mind was so scattered, I could hardly piece together a coherent thought.
Once I finally got comfortable, a pain pinched through me, sitting me upright. The darkness had returned, fully awake and wanting. “No.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Go away, go away, go away, go away…” My breath caught as pain throbbed in my stomach. “Please stop.”
After a few moments, the pain went, and I was left feeling numb. A sensation of a tight band squeezing around my head dizzied me. Grazing my fingers against my temple, I let a tear fall down my cheek. I’d attempted to search for Morgana that evening, but I was certain she was going out of her way not to be found. I couldn’t think of what I’d done wrong, and I needed her more than ever. Whatever was inside of me, it was trying to gain control. No matter how much I closed my mind, emptied it of negative thoughts like Birch had taught me to do when my anxiety had been particularly bad, it was as if it were shouting, until I could hear nothing but its vile needs and desperation.
It must have been because it wasn’t anxiety or stress that used to plague me. Whatever it was, it was evil.
CHAPTER FOUR
I walked the three steps to my throne. The tall stone back loomed over me, casting a shadow onto the ground. I thought for a moment about the many monarchs who had sat upon it before I took it. They were all kings, as I was the first reigning queen. Not a consort. The head of the kingdom. The pressure was unlike anything I had experienced before. I knew it was going to be a challenge, but never had I seen Magaelor so divided. Most of the people at court loved my father and missed the old ways, while a minority had been delighted at the change Edgar had brought, even if they only spoke about such things in private. Many were nervous about my rule. Misogyny was deeply embedded in Magaelor’s culture and traditions, so my position was looked upon egregiously by the lords.
My physical crown, while temporary, was beautiful. The diamonds caught the light from the arched window behind me and flashed over to the walls, which were embedded with crystals. I took my throne, and my chest felt like lead. I swallowed thickly when Cedric joined my side. He didn’t dare sit on what was my mother’s throne but stood a couple of feet away, an appropriate yet still gossip-inducing distance.
“I’ve made some friends,” he said.
My heart skipped a beat. “How?”
“Don’t get jealous.” He smirked. “I have more free time than you.”
“It’s been two days.” I rolled my eyes when I saw Vahaga staring at Cedric venomously. “If looks could kill.”
“I’m sure I’d be dead.” He smiled, unbothered.
A small crowd had swelled as the bustles of morning flourished into midday chaos. They had come to watch a tradition upheld by the monarch for the last century: the poor man’s trial. Grievances between lunas were brought and punishments were handed out, usually once a month.
Women, dressed in boxy dresses and drab fabrics of gray and pale blue, watched me from the crowd, their pointed stares on my crown. Vahaga had joined us. His disapproving gaze trailed over my dress. It was dark fae fashion with Gothic-embroidered stars against black velvet. The slit at my cleavage was the part bothering Vahaga the most, I was sure. I danced my fingers along the net, which billowed out at the skirt.
“Please, stand back,” Adius ordered the noble men and women who filled the carpet leading up to the thrones.
“Cedric, can you help?” I asked, eyeing a few men who didn’t move. He nodded and helped Adius, and the other guards clear them before they returned to their places. Cedric didn’t need to, but I wanted to show he had standing at court, so others wouldn’t be tempted to do anything stupid.
Vahaga’s nostrils flared, and the corner of his thin lips twitched. His aggravation at Cedric’s presence reinforced my wanting to keep him there. I had given him the title of royal advisor, which almost gave Lords Abor and Gregoir a heart attack. I wasn’t going to push them too far but enough to remind them who was in charge. Vahaga’s way with me yesterday awakened in me a reinforced motivation to change things around here.
The doors were opened, and the first subject was brought in. A common thief, a young man no older than myself, stood a few feet from the steps to my throne. There was trickery in his eyes, a carefree stance in his posture. “Morning.”
Adius forced him a step back, gripping his fingers into his arm. “Watch your tone.”
