Page 18 of A Crown So Cursed (The Goldenchild Prophecy #5)
“The Rite of Blood has been invoked!” says another minister, and one by one, each of the twelve Unseelie ministers arises from their seats, and their intention cannot be mistaken. The last to stand is Lord Elric himself. His obsidian eyes gleam with barely suppressed glee.
“Majesty,” he begins, inclining his head. “Whilst we acknowledge your authority, we must still uphold the law, ancient though it may be. My daughter, no matter her reasons, speaks true.” He clears his throat. “A mortal queen poses… shall we say, challenges?”
“I will not be defied,” I say firmly. Then I gesture to the crowd at large, pointing toward each minister. “Every one of you old fools swore fealty to me, and, unlike my father, I will hold you to your oaths.”
Lord Elric’s voice is smooth as silk but sharp as a blade.
“Yes, Majesty. But please know, it is out of our shared loyalty that we must insist upon upholding this sacred law.” His obsidian eyes glint as he continues, “You, too, swore an oath when we lent you our armies to aid your… mortal queen. You gave us your word that you would separate our realms, and forsake all those lands held—including its queen.”
My jaw clenches as I fight to control the rage building inside me.
“You dare speak of oaths? I have upheld my end of our bargain. The portals remain closed!”
“And yet,” he counters, “Here stands a mortal in our hall, claiming the title of queen—our queen. One would argue this violates the spirit, if not the letter, of our bargain.” He stands tall and proud, his eyes sharp and calculating.
The game of Queen’s Chess he began when he approached my dais earlier this day is now in full play and in view of all—a battle not of arms but wits, intended to trap me between duty and love, laws and promises.
He knows I must abide by the court’s laws—no matter how ancient or ill-conceived they might be.
And knowing that, the taste of fear appears on my tongue, a bitter reminder of the stakes at hand.
Despite my irritation and anger, I know any wrong move on my part will seal Gwendolyn’s fate.
The hall falls into a heavy silence, the tension palpable as every member of the court weighs the gravity of Lord Elric’s accusations and my gaze sweeps the gathered Fae.
“Surely, My King, you of all, must understand the gravity of this predicament?”
Gods damn him.
I cannot argue with his point.
When I remain silent, Lirael’s eyes glitter with triumph, and she turns to Gwendolyn. “The test is simple, my lady. You must only prove your Fae blood.”
At last, Gwendolyn speaks, but there is no fear in her voice. She asks carefully, “How does one prove one’s Fae blood?”
Lirael’s features twist into a sneer. “The answer is so simple, even a cretin mortal should be able to understand. You open a vein, you bleed,” she snarls. “As for the proof of one’s lineage…” She sneers. “Only one of our ilk can mend a wound cut by the ceremonial blade.”
My beautiful, brave queen now rises, squaring her shoulders, her mettle showing at long last. “In my time, I have faced tyrants far greater than you, Mistress Lirael. Whatever your trials, I will face them.”
Whatever it was I hoped she would say, this is not it.
“Gwendolyn,” I whisper. “You needn’t agree to this. I will find another way.”
“There is no other way,” she says beneath her breath. “I know, and you know it as well as I. To be sure, they must be satisfied I am worthy to be your queen… and I know I am,” she declares.
Then again, “I know who I am.”
Her eyes beg me to trust her, and I do. But my jaw clenches, a muscle twitching beneath my skin. I relent and sit down. “Very well.” My voice rings cold and clear as the caution within it. “A challenge has been issued and accepted. May it not be said I stood in the way of justice.”
Lord Elric nods, all pretense of concern wiped from his visage, and a rush of excitement flitters through the assembly, followed by another sluice of furious whispers.
He steps forward. “Very good,” he says, his voice carrying a trace of ill-concealed malice.
“This trial shall be held on the morrow. May the gods bear witness to her test.” From beneath his robe he draws a set of iron shackles, advancing upon Gwendolyn.
“Now you must surrender yourself to the court.”
“No!” I rise again, stepping in front of Gwendolyn. “You overstep, Silvershade! Your queen will not be treated like a common thief!”
“It is only tradition, Majesty,” he reassures, his voice gentle. “Any who face the Rite must surrender to the custody of the court until they are proven innocent.”
“No,” I say again. “The only place my bride will be sequestered this eve is within the confines of our chambers.” I snap my fingers to summon my guards, and before anyone can object or intercede, I seize Gwendolyn by the hand, then lead her from the hall, through the alcove, with my most loyal guards at our back.
Gods be damned! The Fae Court is as fickle as the seasons.
Allegiances turn with the wind. But these few have bound their lives to mine by blood and bone.
They will die before allowing any harm to befall their king or his queen.
The moment we are through, I whirl on Gwendolyn, my composure shattering like ice against a spring thaw.
“What the bloody hell were you thinking?” My hands find her shoulders, gripping too tightly. “You know not what you’ve agreed to!”
“All will be fine,” she argues.
“Nay, Gwendolyn,” I say, my voice raw with anguish as I touch a finger to her sweet, beautiful face. “The Rite is a rite of blood!” I pause, searching for words that might convey the magnitude of what she faces. “It is left to their discretion whence that blood should be drawn.”
When she still does not understand, I explain, “They will put the dagger to your heart, and not even Fae magic will heal that wound quickly enough! But if they had taken you now, there would have been no trial on the morrow!” My voice catches, and I turn away, unable to meet the storm in her gray eyes as she realizes for the first time the magnitude of the invitation she has accepted.
I pull her into my arms and hold her because the challenge has been issued and met, and there is nothing I can do but watch my beloved die.