Isabella whirled back around to face the platform as Stephane spoke. He stood with his arms raised, trying to quiet the crowd.
“I have grievous news and a story to tell as well. Several months ago King Fernando and Queen Marie-Claire were ruthlessly assassinated. My mother and father,” he said in a choked voice. “The assassins tried to kill me as well, but I escaped. I’ve remained in hiding all these months in an attempt to find and punish the ones responsible for throwing our country into turmoil. And,” he said drawing out the last word. “To my shock and horror, I discovered that Princess Isabella, my beloved sister, was behind the sordid plot.”
The crowd erupted in a frenzy of shouts, questions, and exclamations of disbelief.
Isabella clenched her fists and tried desperately to control the red hot rage that rolled over her. Beside her, Merrick’s arm tightened about her, and she knew he sought to contain a rash reaction.
“She conspired with the Prince Regent in a plan to hand over Leaudor to the English. Indeed, when my brother, Prince Davide, went to England in an attempt to stop her, he was killed as soon as he set foot on British soil.”
The crowd became angry, many shouting insults against England, others cursing Princess Isabella for her treachery.
Again Stephane held his hands high. “Fear not, for you have all been avenged this day. As she met her English partner outside the palace to seal their agreement, she fell to her death from the marble cliffs. I, as the rightful heir to the Leaudorian throne, am here to take the crown. We will band together with our brothers, the French, and repay England for the injustices that have been carried out against us.”
Isabella gasped. This was a disaster. Not only had he turned the entire country against her, but now he proposed to throw them into war against England. A pawn in Bonaparte’s egotistical aspirations of glory.
“She stole our sacred relics from the cliffs in an attempt to gain the throne. I have gathered the Order so that we might begin a new day in Leaudorian history. Break free from outdated traditions. Will you support me and accept me as your king as we forge our way into a new era?”
The crowd roared their approval, shoving fists into the air and letting loose a series of whistles.
“We cannot wait any longer,” Isabella hissed. “The crowd will never accept my word.”
No sooner had the words left her lips an explosion rocked the area. Screams filled the air as people swarmed in all directions. Isabella whirled to see a plume of smoke rising from the far perimeter of the gathering.
Merrick grinned. “I knew we could count on Father Ling.”
The soldiers lining the platform leaped into action, pouring back to where the smoke filled the air. Seizing their opportunity, Merrick and Isabella rushed forward, against the tide of people running from the platform.
The Royal Guard stood stoically to the side of Stephane until Merrick put his hands down for Isabella to step on. He launched her up to the platform. The captain shouted an order, and they quickly converged on her, surrounding her with swords drawn.
For a moment, a satisfied expression settled on Stephane’s face until the soldiers turned outward, signaling that they were protecting her, not apprehending her.
Around them, the screams died, and the people calmed. Then an excited buzz rose as they recognized their princess. One by one, they filtered back to the village center as if realizing the significance of what was about to occur.
“’Tis the princess,” someone shouted.
A murmur went up, and the villagers surged even closer.
“Seize the traitor!” Stephane shouted. He glanced wildly around, evidently realizing the absurdity of his order. There was no one to apprehend her.
An uneasy titter swept through the crowd.
Isabella stared serenely at Stephane, her head held high. Beside her, Merrick stood, a menacing barrier between her and anyone who would try to harm her. His presence buoyed her in a way the soldiers surrounding her couldn’t.
She stepped forward, ducking the swords drawn to protect her. “I challenge you as set forward in the laws of the righteous.”
Stephane stared disbelievingly at her then burst into laughter. “You challenge me?”
“What are you afraid of?” she asked, her voice carrying over the hushed crowd. “You have made many claims this day. If you are right, God will be on your side, and you will prevail.”
The crowd murmured, a current of approval racing through the villagers.
Stephane emitted a harsh laugh. “The old ways are gone. The Order has voted to do away with them.” He turned to the crowd. “The truth, though painful, is that my sister murdered our parents. And our younger brother.”
A collective gasp went up from the crowd. Angry murmurs quickly followed and the villagers pressed closer to the platform. The guards moved forward, once more encompassing Isabella in their fold.
Father Ling stepped regally onto the platform and held up his hands for silence. Leaudorians were reverent of Father Ling, and now they were wildly curious as to what he would say. They pressed closer still, ignoring the band of soldiers who struggled to return to the platform after investigating the explosion.
“Much has been said of betrayal,” Father Ling said calmly. “The people of Leaudor deserve to know who is just and who is not. Do you refuse Princess Isabella’s challenge, Prince Stephane? Do you forego the opportunity to prove your claims?”
