Page 37 of Fit for a Prince (Fit For A Crown #1)
Chapter thirty-four
I wouldn’t have suggested the duel if I hadn’t been prepared to win. Yet at the same time, I knew I was foolish to assume that winning would fix anything. To fully defeat Lochlan, I’d need to kill a crown prince. That would hardly help me win any favor with the Aemastians.
Issuing the challenge was as simple as telling my escort of my intentions, and the news spread like wildfire shortly after.
The halls were quiet that night. Mara was equally silent, but she didn’t appear angry when I told her what I had done.
“I’ll stand by you, my lady,” she had said to me, wearing her heart on her scarred cheek. “We all will.”
And stand she did. She stood by the door in anticipation of the dreaded knock. She stood from the fire when the guards burst into the room long after dark. And she stood by the door helplessly as they dragged me away in my nightdress without a word .
Six guards wrestled me to my feet and pulled me through the dark hallways.
One guard placed his beefy hand over my mouth, muffling my cries of protest even when I bit down on his fingers.
They moved too fast for me to walk, so my bare feet dragged against the stone floors, rubbing my toes raw in some spots where I couldn’t get them off the ground in time.
I pulled my face away from my captors long enough to get a glimpse at my surroundings, immediately recognizing the route. We were going to the throne room.
I stopped fighting after that. This wasn’t any abduction; this was a private meeting.
We stepped into the throne room, and the dark environment felt appropriate for the late hour. The guard finally released my mouth and stepped away enough for me to see the king standing at the end of the room.
“Bring her to me.” King Septimus summoned the guards to drag me forward, carrying me more than letting me walk.
They dropped me at his feet, intentionally throwing me down to the floor instead of letting me find my balance. My cream nightdress pooled around me like a wilted lily, and I stared at the king from the glassy floor’s reflection.
This is where my game of survival started. Is this where it’s destined to end ?
“Explain yourself, girl .” The king’s voice snapped like the splintering of bone. “Speak, now.”
“What do you wish me to speak of, Your Majesty?” I kept my gaze fixed on the floor. “Of the betrothal? Of your sons?”
“Of your death wish ,” he growled, stepping forward and stamping his boot on the reflective piece of flooring I was locked onto.
“I gave you one task. One task to accomplish in order to save your own skin. Despite my advisor’s warnings, I chose to let you be a symbol of victory for our kingdom through a union with one of my sons.
Now that Lochlan has finally requested your hand, you offer him a fist instead. ”
The schlink of a sword gliding from its sheath finally drew my gaze upward.
The view that met me was nothing short of nightmarish.
King Septimus, the man who had destroyed my home, my family, and the prince who had made me who I was, was standing over me with a blade pointing at my neck.
He shifted forward, and the tip barely hovered under my chin, preventing me from looking away again.
His eyes were just as wicked as they’d been on that fateful night in Ivalon.
But instead of surrounding him, the fire was burning within him, consuming the rest of his empty heart.
“You dare throw away my gifts?” he seethed, his arm thicker than a tree branch and streaked with veins as he clamped down on the sword’s hilt.
“Lochlan’s betrothal was all you needed to survive.
Now the entire castle is buzzing with your rejection.
Tell me why I shouldn’t simply end your life now and save my son the effort of killing you himself. ”
I stared down the length of the sword, my breath fogging the steel. He was right. I needed Lochlan more than any other Aemastian would ever need me. But I knew that it was Ivalon that needed me most.
They needed me alive. They needed me married. They needed a princess strong enough to pick her prince.
“I refused Lochlan to save Cedric.” My voice carried across the blade, his grip never loosening on the weapon. “If I hadn’t requested to duel, he would have done so instead. You can ask him yourself.”
“So what if he did duel his brother?” the king scoffed. “He has all the right to challenge him.”
“And I don’t?” I lifted my chin, and the sword followed, the chill of the steel nipping at my thin flesh. “This is my life they are fighting to claim. Why shouldn’t I be the one to fight back?”
“You were not told to fight. ”
“No, I was told to win.” I rose from the floor, searing my gaze into the king’s eyes as the sword stayed fixed to my throat.
I locked my knees, my heart blaring in my ears and nearly drowning out my own voice.
“To win my life back, I must marry a prince. That’s how it’s always been.
First I needed Damon, and now I need one of your sons.
If my life must rest in the hands of a prince, I should be permitted the power to choose which prince I settle for. ”
“Your only choice is between life and death.” King Septimus stepped forward, bending his arm back so the blade was stable.
“You made your choice when you insulted my son.” His blade pricked at my throat; the warm dribble of blood almost soothing to my cold skin.
“Either you die by his hand tomorrow, or you die by mine now, and I’m not letting my kingdom’s name be tainted any further by your antics. ”
“Have you no faith that Lochlan can kill me himself?” I tilted my head, letting the blade slice a small line across my neck. It was shallow, but the sting was electrifying. “First you select his bride, and then you fight his battles for him?”
“Nothing in this kingdom is his ,” he hissed, giving the sword a slight twist against my throat. “Not his, not his brothers, and not yours. I choose their fates, and I choose their battles. ”
“Then you choose to humiliate him.” I didn’t plan to shout, but my voice had no issue filling up the vast throne room.
“What will happen when the duel never happens and I turn up dead? The rumors are already in circulation. A fight is expected, and if a fight doesn’t occur, imagine how weak your son will look for running from it.
How weak you will look for allowing him to hide from a challenge. ”
Time flowed slowly. Even under his heated glare I felt so cold. I hated the cold. Aemastia’s chill would always fight with the fire in my blood but never be strong enough to douse its flames.
I held my breath, terrified that the air wouldn’t stay in my throat with the sword threatening to puncture my windpipe at any moment. I forced myself to look into my enemy’s eyes, fighting my fears and refusing to back down from the monster that had stolen everything from me.
I’m not the only one he has stolen from…but maybe I can be the last.
He lowered his sword.
“You duel at dusk,” he said in a grizzly voice. I shivered as the resonance of his voice prickled all the hairs on my arms and chilled the blood on my neck. “Let the whole kingdom witness the fall of Damon’s bride.”