Page 19 of Forged By Malice (Beasts of the Briar #3)

18

Dayton

O f course.

The usurper Ezryn mentioned is none other than that little shit, Kairyn. Rosie, the majordomo Eldy, Marigold, Astrid, and I, thunder into the Hall of Vernalion after Ezryn like his own personal army. Damn, this place has never been the cheeriest, but it feels like a funeral hall. A sense of despair washes over me the moment I step through the doors.

It’s really not surprising, though. Kairyn’s always made me uneasy, even when he was just Ezryn’s little brother following us around. Now, he’s sitting on the throne like a damned tyrant, legs spread, and hands clenched. And there’s a bunch of creepy people standing nearby, dressed in long robes of white and gold.

Golden Acolytes, I realize. What are they doing here? Though the Queen’s Reach Monastery operates close to Florendel, it has never been involved in the rule of Spring.

One of the acolytes catches my eye, a fae woman with short dark hair and startingly blue eyes. She’s staring straight at me. A soft smile graces her lips. I look away. Something about the disciples has always freaked me out.

Two knights standing on either side of the throne give me pause. The position establishes them as princeguard, but they’re helmeted like the royal family of Spring. And their armor is warlike instead of the usual ceremonial style that is tradition, one a shining amber, the other a deep turquoise.

Ezryn plants his feet before the throne. His voice is steady but loud: “Everyone except my brother. Out. Now .”

Immediately, the staff shuffle out the front and back doors, but the acolytes stay where they are. Kairyn says nothing, only tipping his head in a way that is both mockery and a challenge. There have been so many times throughout the years I wanted to punch him straight in that ugly owl helm, and I have a feeling I might get the chance.

But I hang back, letting Ezryn handle this his way.

When the acolytes still refuse to move, Ezryn’s voice deepens. “I said everyone.”

“Come on.” Rosalina tugs on my sleeve. “Everyone includes us.”

I look around at my crew. “Rosie, trust me on this. Ez might need us.”

“We must obey His Highness’s wishes,” Eldy says, as uptight as I remember him. “Chop, chop, we can wait for him outside.”

“Abandoning the Prince again, Eldor?” Marigold snaps. “Follow me.” She waves us toward the back exit of the throne room. As soon as we step outside, she yanks my arm and directs me to the wall.

A worried expression crosses Eldy’s face. “Marigold! This is highly uncalled for!”

“And so is letting that banished prince call himself steward. I’ve been watching over Ezryn and Kairyn since they were boys. I will not stop now.” Her eyes blaze as she taps a particular pattern on the wall. Suddenly, a lump of stone spits out a door knob.

She opens it and ushers us inside. The five of us are now crammed in a small room no bigger than a closet. But…

The far wall shimmers with translucent light. An enchantment lets us see and hear into the throne room. On the floor, there is a wooden hatch.

“Where does that go?” I ask.

“It’s an escape route out of the castle. This space is only to be used by the royal family for security reasons,” Eldy hisses.

“This is for security reasons,” Marigold snarls back. “Who knows what that mad boy will do to Ezryn? We might have to send the muscle after him.” She claps my bicep, lingering for a moment. I give it a pulse for her, and she thanks me with a wink.

Rosalina barely seems to be listening to us. She’s drifted right to the translucent wall, long fingers running along the shimmering line. “Is Kairyn dangerous?”

Eldy, Marigold, and I exchange a look.

“Not dangerous exactly,” I murmur. “Just unpredictable.”

“I will tell you only once more.” Ezryn’s voice filters through the enchanted wall. We’re positioned to the side of the throne, and Ezryn’s body is as still as ever. “Everyone but my brother, out .”

A female voice resonates: “With all due respect, High Prince, we are the Golden Acolytes. We answer only to the Queen herself, and in her absence, the High Clerics. Of which Prince Kairyn is one. And you are not.”

It’s the fae woman with the blue eyes who spoke.

Ezryn’s only tell is the slight tilt of his helm. “So be it. Let your followers listen then, brother. High Cleric you may have named yourself, but you have no dominion over my realm. You are not steward. Remove yourself from my throne and return to the monastery. Your banishment is not absolved.”

Kairyn tears up from the throne. Seven realms, he’s gotten big since the last time I saw him. His shadow covers Ezryn in darkness. “You can’t do this. I have saved Spring! I deserve to be named steward!”

For a second, I think Ezryn’s going to scream back at him. But he stays still. “Thalionor is steward. While he recovers and I appoint a new steward, I will retake command of Spring. See yourself back to Queen’s Reach or I will have you escorted there.” His voice lowers to a gruff whisper. “Do not test me, brother.”

Kairyn doesn’t move. His heavy breathing reverberates from beneath the helm. “I have quelled the goblin raids. I have rid the Queen’s Reach Monastery of corruption. I have brought peace to Spring!”

Ezryn takes a step. “I will be the judge of that.”

“How dare you doubt me?” Kairyn roars. “I bring order to Spring! You have brought only death!”

I intake a sharp breath, my own heart pounding. Images flash in my mind: standing alongside my brother Damocles in the Hall of Vernalion. Beside him was High Princess Niamh, and beside her, High Prince Erivor of Winter.

Ezryn, newly coronated, sitting upon the throne. And Kairyn, seething beside him.

“Careful, Ez,” I mutter under my breath.

Rosalina presses herself harder against the translucent wall, her brown eyes huge. “Why is he saying that to him? ‘You only bring death?’”

Kairyn thunders down the steps of the throne and circles Ezryn, his black cape snapping like a raven’s wings. “You come back to Spring, thinking you belong here. Thinking all should bow down and kiss the favored son’s boots as they always have. But things have changed, big brother. I have changed.”

“Don’t do this, Kairyn,” Ezryn says lowly.

Eldy plucks at the hairs on his chin. “No, no, no. The last time they were like this…”

Marigold squeezes her eyes shut. “Kairyn evoked the Rite.”

The words flood the memory back into me.

Spring has always been secretive about their ceremonies, but the High Rulers were invited to attend Ezryn’s coronation. My brother was High Prince at the time.

Damocles, as he always did, chose me to be his honor guard.

I knew Ezryn pretty well at that point, but the fae sitting on the throne was barely recognizable. He was clad in brilliant silver armor, anointed in both a crown and cape of wildflowers.

And though I couldn’t see his face, I sensed it from him.

A darkness. It was like shadows I couldn’t see, a wind I couldn’t hear. An invisible calamity fighting within his steel.

I told myself it was grief—something I knew blessed little of at that point.

Because right before Ezryn’s coronation, there had been a different ceremony.

A funeral for his mother, the former High Princess Isidora.

“What is the Rite?” Rosalina whispers, looking back at us.

I take a heavy breath. “An ancient practice in Spring where anyone can challenge the High Ruler to the throne. It is a battle of physical and magical combat where the winner takes both Spring’s Blessing and the crown … and commonly the life and honor of the loser.”

Rosalina gasps, and Astrid grabs her hand.

Eldy shakes his head sadly. “This would not be the first time Kairyn has attempted it.”

The throne room echoes with Ezryn’s voice: “Stand down.”

“You sent me to the monastery to rot,” Kairyn says, “because I know the truth. I know what you did to her!”

“ Stand down .” Ezryn still does not move.

Dammit, how is he so still? If I was in his position, I would have pummeled that jerk ages ago. But Ezryn’s like an impenetrable fortress, just standing there as Kairyn circles him, helm twitching.

“What happened last time?” Rosalina breathes.

I close my eyes as the images play across my mind. Did Ezryn even realize I was there? I was nothing then, not a High Prince, just Damocles’ escort. “It was Ez’s coronation, decades ago. Rosie, his mother … She died passing her Blessing on to Ez.”

“It’s a dangerous thing, for the living to move the Blessing to another,” Eldy says. “The realms celebrated when Niamh’s passing to High Prince Farron went so smoothly.”

Rosalina’s gaze is intent on Ezryn. “He never speaks of his mother. I wonder if he feels responsible.”

“He shouldn’t. Isidora knew what she was doing. She was the brightest and bravest lady one could ever know.” Tears streak down Marigold’s face and she quickly wipes them away.

I wrap an arm around Marigold and pull her tight against me in a half-hug. I know she served Princess Isidora directly. “You know how Ez is, Rose. Even if he doesn’t blame himself—”

Her eyes drift over to Kairyn. “His brother does.”

“Look at you, High Prince,” Kairyn says, a haunting rasp. “High Prince of what? Of a realm you abandoned? A father you left a widower? You should be on your knees, begging me to take the realm off your hands!”

Ezryn lifts his chin. “It’s time for you to leave, Kairyn.”

Kairyn’s voice sounds like a snake’s hiss. “You stand there so certain, so still. You think you can fool them like you’ve fooled the rest of the staff.” He gestures to his acolytes. “But you can’t fool me. I see it in you. The rage . You want to kill me, don’t you, brother?”

“If I wanted to kill you,” Ezryn says so low I can barely make it out, “you’d be dead.”

Kairyn throws his helm back and laughs. “And there it is! My brother, at heart, a beast.”

At that, Ezryn steps into Kairyn’s path, stopping his incessant pacing. “What did you call me?”

“I am not afraid of beasts. Name me steward. Let me show you the true potential of Spring.”

“A deserving steward would not allow Spring steel to come into the hands of our enemy,” Ezryn growls.

Kairyn stills, then flashes a quick glance behind him at the acolytes. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I will continue to eliminate all threats to our resources. Name me steward and see Spring to glory!”

Rosie turns around and catches my gaze, her eyes frightened. “What happened at his coronation, Day?”

I suck in a breath. “Kairyn accused Ezryn of the murder of Isidora, and then invoked the Rite, challenging him for the throne.”

I’d thought in that moment Ezryn might hand it over. There had been such a sadness to him, a despair unlike anything I’d ever seen. “Ezryn seemed to consider just abdicating the throne to his brother, but Kel’s father, High Prince Erivor, told him Kairyn was unfit to wield the Blessing of Spring. So, Ezryn chose to fight.”

“Ezryn defeated him easily,” Marigold continues my story. “As is custom within the royal family, Ezryn had the right to unhelm Kairyn for his insolence.”

“Unhelm…” Rosie whispers.

“The most shameful and dishonorable punishment imaginable for a member of Spring’s royal family.” Eldy’s voice trembles as he speaks. “A fate worse than even death.”

“But Kairyn still wears his helmet,” Rosie says.

“Ezryn couldn’t do it, not even to the man who accused him of killing his own mother,” I say back. “So, he banished him to servitude at the monastery instead.”

Eldy nods. “A most merciful act.”

Rosie turns back to the translucent wall, lip quivering. “But if Kairyn challenges Ez to the Rite and wins—”

Before us, Ezryn turns his back to Kairyn and begins walking up the stairs to the throne. “You will never be my steward.”

Kairyn lets out a howl of rage. One of his acolytes leaps forward—the blue-eyed woman who spoke earlier. “Sire, don’t!”

He shoves her out of the way and screams: “I challenge you to the—”

Before he can finish the words, Ezryn turns and surges at his brother. In a feat of raw strength, he lifts Kairyn up and slams him on to his back. In the same fluid movement, he draws his sword, Windscythe, and holds it to Kairyn’s neck.

“ Do not challenge me,” he growls, a voice more wolf than man. “ Never challenge me again.”

Utter silence fills the throne room. In our small space, not one of us takes a breath.

Then Ezryn stands and sheathes his blade. Kairyn stays down. With staggering steps, Ezryn walks up the stairs to sit on the throne.

“You will return to the monastery and await my judgment for breaking your banishment. Until my father recovers, I shall remain in Spring.” He turns to the acolytes, then gestures to the fallen Kairyn. “If anyone has an issue with that, you can take it up with your High Cleric.”