Toward the man I’m forced to callhusband.
Chapter 4
Two weeks later,the masses gather from across Mainland, cluttering the thoroughfares and wynds that pour into the city square. Statues of the sun goddess, Agryna, and stunning architecture surround us—the Llyrosta Guild, covered market, and Public House—and at the center is a wooden dais. The whipping post jutting from the platform draws wary attention; it’s both an eyesore and a terrifying reminder of the horrors that occasionally occur even amid the beauty and merriment.
Bewildered chatter fills the square as traders, scholars, shop owners, highborns, and lowborns alike, cluster together. Everyone is aiming for a position close enough to the dais to hear the important announcement we’ve been told will take place today.
Royal Brigade soldiers in brown liveries and other soldiers in black uniforms I’m unfamiliar with are scattered through the square, their swords and crossbows at the ready. I have a feeling they won’t hesitate to strike down any civilian that falls out of line. Crossing my arms over my stomach, I shrink back slightly.
On my left stands Gruffud and his parents, and on my right is my best friend, Neris. Her blond curls are pulled back into a ponytail and a lavender dress hangs off her average frame. It irksme that Mother still doesn’t have her properly fitted with dresses tailored to her; instead, she gives Neris secondhand clothing, as though she’s just another servant rather than the child she’d taken in years ago. As if we weren’t raised alongside each other like sisters.
If Father was here, he would’ve never allowed Mother to treat Neris any differently than I was treated. He loved her as though she was his flesh and blood. The pocket watch weighs heavier within my dress—by the stars, I hope he’s alright. It isn’t abnormal not to hear much from him aside from the occasional letter or the exclusive events that take place at the Fortress on the Mount. Yet, knowing that he was injured and not having any more information has my stomach constantly twisted into knots.
Before becoming one of the Queen’s Guards ten years ago, Father had been the glue that held this family together. We share the same love for pretty books, well-crafted pocket watches, jewelry, and fighting. While he taught me—in secret of course—how to wield a sword and dagger, my fists are my preferred weapons. Mother always saw the bruises on my knuckles and berated Father on how unladylike, how unbecoming of a highborn it was. He’d simply respond with, “An elite lady deserves elite training, my darling.”
It had always been enough to calm what Neris calls Mother’shighborn temper. It probably helped that his visits after becoming a Queen’s Guard were short and sweet—not much time for Mother to be cross with him.
The paradiddle of a drum cuts through the din of the crowd and a hush ensues. All eyes turn to the platform, and each wallop of the soldier’s drumstick sends my heartrate higher. I reach into my pocket to run my thumb shakily over my watch as I squint and rise onto the balls of my feet. Seeing through the assortment of hats and hairstyles proves difficult.
Neris leans close, her emerald eyes alight with amusement. “Need me to hoist you up onto my shoulders?”
I scoff. “Neris, I’d break your bony shoulders. No offense.”
Her hand flies dramatically to her heart. “Offense taken!” Neris isn’t the healthiest nor the strongest, but she is abundant in sass and willpower.
Mother leans forward from beside Neris and cuts me a silencing look. Then by some sheer luck, the person in front of me shifts, and I get a view of the dais where a broad-shouldered man stands, wearing a gilded breastplate over dark blue livery. His thick, brown hair is streaked with grey, and his beard is neatly trimmed into an odd triangle. There are a multitude of emblems on his armor denoting different ranks and honors. He bears no crown, but he doesn’t seem to need one to command the throng.
The hooded figure beside him is clad in a black tunic tapered at the waist and fitted trousers that cling to the full curvature of their hips. A hooded cloak of crimson is pulled over their head and a gold mask is visible above a black veil covering the lower half of their face.
“Greetings citizens of Erleya,” a voice booms, drawing my eyes back to the man in the beautiful armor. I’ve seen him on more than one occasion, at formal events in the castle as a child. Lord Commander Rheon. “I come bringing grave news. Queen Morwenna Meredyth, the Good, is dead, and with her, Princess Carys Meredyth fa Rhodri, the heir to the throne.”
Iknewsomething was very wrong.
Panic rises up within the crowd and the soldiers raise their weapons.
A thin man in an azure suit steps through the crowd, toward the dais. “You killed them!” he shrieks. “Murderer!”
One moment, the man is pointing accusatorily at the commander, and the next, a bolt is protruding from his chest. Helooks down at the shaft of the weapon, then drops to the ground as screams tear through the crowd.
Neris loops her arm through mine, squeezing hard as her olive skin blanches. To my surprise, Gruffud’s hand flies to my shoulder and he doesn’t even bother to mask his look of panic.
“Soldiers, hold your weapons!” Lord Commander Rheon orders.
With a collective stomp that sends a chill through me, all the soldiers salute, their weapons forgotten. The din gradually diminishes to a few murmured words of despair and soft sobs within the throng. Gruffud’s hand slips from my shoulder, his gaze pinned on the platform.
“No harm will come to those who cooperate.” The cold threat leaks into the commander’s tranquil tone: anyone who dares to speak up will be met with the same fate as that foolish man.
“There is a dire need for change in the kingdom, for the betterment of this land we call home, and for Erleya’s standing in the mortal realm. Together, we will reclaim Erleya’s former glory, and more. Our kingdom shall rise above all others. Beginning today, I declare my reign as Sovereign of the Kingdom of Erleya and the Outer Isles.”
Murmurs thread through the crowd, and again, the soldiers stomp to attention, weapons at the ready.
“Citizens, fear not. A time will come when we must act. Against evil, against corruption. But today, we mourn the loss of our good queen and our princess. A moment of silence for our beloved fallen leaders.”
Gradually, silence falls over the square. An occasional cough or sniff taints the quietude. Neris glances over at me while our heads are bowed, worry in her eyes.
SovereignRheon speaks up again. “We also celebrate the rise of a new era.”
A couple of guards clad in midnight blue at the front of the dais shout, “Long live the sovereign!”
