Chapter 30
30
Kirill
" Y our Majesty," Sergio interrupts, stepping into my office with a worried expression.
What now?
I shut my laptop. "What is it?"
He wrinkles his forehead and announces, "Ulrich is here with several others."
The hairs on my neck rise. I stand. "Here on the yacht?"
"Yes. He claims he needs to speak to you immediately."
I shut the door and face him, studying his face. "Why do you look alarmed?"
Sergio stands taller and murmurs, "They came on board with their guns pulled."
I freeze, taking in his statement and trying to figure out the best move. There's only one reason they would draw weapons. It's to escort me somewhere I might object going to.
That or it's an outright coup .
I pat Sergio on the shoulder. "Thank you for telling me. Please make sure the staff stays on task while I'm gone."
He scrunches his face but nods.
"Everything is fine," I reassure him.
He doesn't seem convinced.
I ask, "Where are they?"
"I had them wait in the bar," he answers.
"Good decision. Wait for me outside of the bar," I instruct and open the door. My gut flips faster, but I pick up my pace and walk into the room with my head held high, greeting, "Ulrich."
"Your Majesty," he states but doesn't bow.
The men with him rise, keeping their guns in sight.
I cross my arms. "What's your reason for bringing armed men onto my yacht and scaring my staff?"
Amusement flares in Ulrich's eyes. He picks up a stuffed olive, pops it in his mouth, chews, swallows, and takes a long drink of what I'm guessing is brandy. He taunts, "Why would members of The Underworld bring anything but pleasure to your staff?"
"Cut the shit, Ulrich. Why are you here?"
Arrogance replaces his amusement. He finishes his drink, sets the snifter down, and picks up the decanter. He pours a fresh glass, and suggests, "Shall we discuss this over drinks?"
"No," I bark.
"Fine. Suit yourself," he replies, strolling to the window. He taunts, "Such a nice yacht we supply for you."
I snarl, "I'll remind you that I'm the king. I've asked you why you're here. Stop playing games and answer my question or I'll issue a decree. And let me remind you that my men will toss you in a cell until I decide to return your freedom to you."
He chuckles until his eyes glisten.
I narrow my own eyes at him.
He wipes his cheek and states, "Look around, Kirill. You can issue all the decrees you want, but no one will adhere to them."
My chest tightens. I study each man, one by one, yet they look at me as if they can see through me. Then I ask, "Are none of you still loyal to the king?"
They don't flinch.
I scoff and threaten, "When Ulrich finishes having his fun, I will remember each one of you. The choice you've made in this room determines your fate."
They maintain their robot-like faces.
Ulrich steps closer. "It's time to go."
"Where?" I question.
"To Pompeii."
"Why?"
His lips twist before he taunts, "Didn't you hear?"
My gut flips. I wait for him to speak.
He continues, "There's a ritual tonight."
Goose bumps break out on my skin. I clench my jaw, not willing to give him the satisfaction of a response, and hold myself back from tearing him to shreds.
He leans into my ear, exclaiming, "Our ritual tonight is the Tainted Crown. "
Anger and fear flare inside of me. I demand, "Where's my wife?"
"Oh, don't you worry. She's already on a plane," he informs me with an evil grin.
My gut drops further.
"Well? Shall we get going? You know how it's not nice to be late," he goads.
"Fine." I walk toward the exit.
His men fall into line behind me.
I step out of the bar and direct Sergio, "Send the royal plane to wait for me in Pompeii."
He gives me a worried glance and nods. "Yes, Your Majesty."
I make my way through the yacht, step onto the dock, and go to the SUVs waiting in the lot. One of the drivers opens a back door, avoiding my gaze. I give him the same look I gave the men, warning, "I'll remember you too."
He grinds his molars.
I slide into the back seat. Ulrich gets in next to me and shuts the door. I stare out the window, trying to determine how to keep Fiona and myself alive once we get to Pompeii.
Her copy of the Royal Doctrine wasn't an original. I've studied it for days, trying to stay busy and not go crazy waiting to hear from her. While it's subtle, the missing information is apparent. Only one who knows it inside and out can tell pertinent information has been removed.
They're going to use it against her.
The airport isn't far. We pull up next to the plane, and I get out, climbing the staircase and brushing past Ulrich's attendant. I sit and try to open the shade, but it's locked .
Rage fills me. It's what The Underworld does to new members before they've earned our trust. It's so they don't know where they're going. To do this to me, the king, is to show I have no power.
I don't right now.
"What shall we talk about?" Ulrich asks.
I lean back, close my eyes, and don't speak. I never fall asleep, spending the long flight going through scenarios for once the ritual starts. No matter how hard I think, I come to the same conclusion—Fiona and I are screwed.
We arrive in Pompeii, and I walk through the dim, barely-lit hallway. I try to open the door for the royal quarters, but it's locked.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. That's not for you," he scolds.
I need to see Fiona.
"Nowhere in the Royal Doctrine does it state I don't have access to my royal quarters," I say, scowling at Ulrich.
He grins. "It does when the Tainted Crown gets incorporated with a Ceremony of Exposure."
My blood boils. I argue, "You cannot and will not subject the queen?—"
"The Omni will do what we determine is best for The Underworld, and subject to provision 469," he roars, his eyes lighting with fire.
Provision 469 says the Omni have full authority to utilize a Ceremony of Exposure should the violation be significant enough to alter the state of The Underworld.
My mouth goes dry, and a lump forms in my throat. I swallow and look away.
"Move," Ulrich demands.
I continue walking down the hallway. We turn a corner .
He opens a door to a small room, ordering, "In."
I don't argue, stepping inside. There's one locker and a small bathroom. My crown sits on the table on top of a black pillow.
Where is Fiona?
Anxiety fills me.
"You know the drill," Ulrich says, then leans back against the wall with his arms crossed.
Begrudgingly, I strip out of my clothes, hang them in the locker, then put on the crown.
"Time to go," he declares and opens the door.
We walk through more hallways, and right as he reaches for the doorknob to the arena, I promise, "Before the sun rises, we will have one more ritual."
He arches his eyebrows.
I glare at him.
He grins. "I'll play along. Which one?"
"The Black Veil. And you'll be the groom."
He grunts. "Keep dreaming, Kirill." He pushes the door open.
My ears ring from the loud sound of lit torches being pounded on the ground. All the members in attendance are dressed for the occasion: men wear full skull masks and tuxedos, while the women don eye masks and long, white satin gowns. The stage has two guillotines next to each other. An X is painted on the floor in front of them. Dozens of roaring bonfires sizzle around them. Knights line up with gleaming swords pointed high in the air.
The crowd chants the Buddhist mantra associated with compassion and inner light, "Om Mani Padme Hum," but I already know nothing tonight will be compassionate or display an inner light .
I have to get us out of this.
Where is Fiona?
The chant morphs to hissing as I climb the steps to the stage, stand on the X, and scan the arena.
On the opposite side, I spot Fiona in nothing but a tiara. Wrath fills me like never before. I know the Ceremony of Exposure requires us both to be naked, but seeing her frightened and stripped of her clothes, paraded in front of the membership, makes it real.
I curl my fists, hating how no Omni has ever ordered a Ceremony of Exposure for a queen. It's pure disrespect, and if a miracle happens and we get through this, I vow to make all of them pay.
"Oh! Oh!" the women moan while the men continue to hiss.
Fiona's cheeks burn maroon. She climbs the steps, pins her frightened greens on me, and breaks away from the security. She flies into my arms.
I wrap my arms around her, my heart beating harder, blinking hard.
She trembles.
I shout in her ear, "We're going to get through this. I will make them pay." I kiss her head.
She quivers harder.
Silence fills the air.
Ulrich and Jytte step in front of us.
"Take your place," Jytte orders.
Fiona grasps me tighter.
"It's okay. Take your spot," I reassure.
She takes a shaky breath, releases me, and takes her place on the X .
I reach over and grab her hand, squeezing it, then stroke my thumb over her knuckles to try and calm her.
"It has come to our attention that the queen did not memorize the Royal Doctrine," Ulrich announces.
A synchronized gasp sounds from the crowd.
Jytte cries out, "Let the Tainted Crown begin!"
Torches pound on the ground in a low thud, expanding the anxiety on Fiona's expression but also inside my chest.
I hold my fist high and declare, "I demand retribution for this charade!"
Hissing erupts again.
"You cannot demand retribution for the queen's lack of responsibility," Jytte warns.
"Her Royal Doctrine was altered, and you know it!" I accuse.
Another gasp, then the arena falls silent.
Ulrich's lips twist like earlier. He holds his arms wide and bellows, "What proof does the king have of such a criminal offense?"
"The queen's Royal Doctrine is on the royal yacht. I've gone through it and noted all the places information should have been entered but isn't," I announce.
The members' shock taints the air.
Ulrich asks, "Did you bring this proof?"
My insides flip. I retort, "You know I didn't."
An evil sort of glee floods his expression. "But yet I picked you up on the Royal Yacht, and you did not ask to bring it, did you?"
I stay silent, hating myself for not finding a way out of this trap before I left the yacht .
"His answer is no, he did not bring it. So let's begin," Ulrich orders.
Jytte steps in front of Fiona, stating, "You'll have three chances to correct a wrong answer. If you cannot, the punishment for you and your husband is death."
Fiona winces, her eyes glistening, and gives me an I'm sorry look.
I squeeze her hand in reassurance, and try to think of how to stop them from beheading her.
Jytte asks, "What is Amendment 666?"
Fiona pins her eyebrows together and looks at me.
The air in my lungs turns stale.
She looks back at Jytte and answers, "The Royal Doctrine I was provided did not have an Amendment past 665."
The crowd gasps, then returns to pounding the torches.
"Wrong answer. Want to try again?" Ulrich asks.
"I can't answer a question when the information wasn't provided to me," Fiona argues, lifting her chin.
"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!" the crowd chants.
Fiona shakes her head in frustration.
Jytte states, "Last chance!"
Fiona stays quiet, squeezing my hand but not flinching under Jytte's dark stare.
"Answer!" Jytte screams.
Fiona glares at her.
"Three seconds. Three. Two. One!" Jytte counts.
The crowd turns deafening. "Behead the queen! Behead the queen! Behead the queen! "
Fiona gapes at me in fear.
Before I can do anything, the knights file in between us. I'm pushed toward the guillotine, and several men hold me down. The wood shuts around my neck, and the lock clicks into place. I grip the wood, trying to lift it, but I can't.
"No!" Fiona screams, and a few tears escape her eyes.
I turn my head, and they lock the wood over her head. I roar, "Get that off of her!"
Ulrich holds his hand up, and the metal blade slides to the top.
The arena quiets.
My heart races so fast I feel nauseous.
"By the power vested in me by the Omni, representing the goodwill of The Underworld, I order?—"
"Stop!" Valentina screams.
"We have proof!" Brax shouts.
I shift my gaze and catch them running toward us.
Jytte tosses a nervous glance at Ulrich.
"Stand back, or you will be next!" Ulrich declares.
"We have full proof!" Brax growls as he jumps on the stage. He runs toward Fiona and pushes the executioner aside.
Sean appears from nowhere, barking, "Get the fuck away from the king," and pushes the one next to me to the ground.
He flies across the stage on his butt.
Zara cries out, "I declare an Act of Betrayal! Jytte and Ulrich Koch, you are hereby condemned!"
"You can't do that!" Jytte argues .
Zara steps before her, seething, "I am the successor queen. I can, and I will."
The color drains from Jytte's face.
"They're lying to protect his sister," Ulrich declares, pointing at Sean.
"We're not! We have proof!" Valentina insists.
Ulrich points to the executioners. "Get in position."
"Step closer, and I'll choke the air out of you," Brax warns.
"Same," Sean snarls.
"Knights, get into position. We have an act of hostility upon us!" Jytte commands.
"No one move," Devika, an Indian woman and another Omni on the Royal Council, interjects, crossing the stage.
"We have confessions that these two plotted to overthrow Kirill and Fiona. It's all here," Valentina says, pulling out her phone and clicking on a video.
Devika presses the screen.
Screams fill the air.
Brax demands, "Tell me who paid you to kill the queen!"
Torturous, incoherent whines spill from the phone.
Valentina snarls, "Speak, or I'm taking another finger!"
The man on the video cries out, "They made me!"
"Who?" Valentina demands.
His cries ring through the arena.
"I said who," Valentina screams, and more horrific sounds echo around us .
He begs, "Please!"
Brax warns, "I told you she likes this stuff. Tell her who, or she'll dissect your balls one at a time."
"No! Don't! Please! It was Ulrich! And-and that wife of his!" the man yells.
Devika turns the video off.
"There's more on there. You're missing the best part," Brax states.
Devika shoots daggers at him with a look.
Valentina adds, "There are two other men on the video. They all claim the same thing."
Dinging sounds start to go off across the arena.
Sean adds, "That's everyone's inbox. Brax and I hacked into Ulrich and Jytte's private chats. Everything is documented."
"He's lying!" Jytte accuses, pointing at Sean.
"Free our Majesties! Free our Majesties," the crowd chants.
The knights circle the couple.
"No!" Ulrich shouts.
Sean and Brax release us from the guillotines. I rise and help Fiona up, then tug her into me.
She shakes worse than before.
I bark, "Bring the queen her royal robe! Now!"
An Omni appears with our robes. I help Fiona into hers, tie it, then put mine on. I point at the Koches, roaring, "The only ritual we'll be completing tonight is the Black Veil!"
The crowd gasps. No Omni has ever been the center of a Black Veil ritual .
Men roll out two metal poles in the shape of an upside-down L. Wire hangs from it with a noose on the end.
A bridal gown and tuxedo appear.
"Get dressed," I order Ulrich and Jytte.
Tears stream down Jytte's cheeks. "Kirill?—"
"Do it," I snarl, holding Fiona tighter to me.
Ulrich claims, "This has been a big misunderstanding. We were given false information?—"
"Don't make me tell you again," I warn.
Slowly, the two get dressed. Zara adds a rose to Ulrich's lapel.
Valentina positions a bouquet of long-stemmed roses in front of Jytte, instructing her, "Hold these."
Tears drip from Jytte's jaw as she begs, "Kirill, please!"
"Hold the flowers," I instruct.
She closes her eyes, squeezes the stems, and screams "Ow!" when the thorns dig into her skin.
Valentina takes a wire and pins her hands so the roses won't fall. Blood drips down her wrists.
Jytte whimpers.
Brax and Sean grab the metal nooses and place them around Koches' necks and a rope around their armpits.
Valentina adds a veil to Jytte's head.
"This is a mistake!" Ulrich yells.
"Yeah. A deadly one. Raise them into the air," I order.
Knights crank on the wheels until Ulrich and Jytte hang in the air .
" Ayam ta idhma atma jatavedastenedhyasva ," the crowd chants, and the torches hit the ground in unison. It's another Buddhist mantra, this one for fire ceremonies.
I glance at Fiona. "Last chance. Do you want me to show them any mercy?"
She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin, and, with shaking lips, answers, "No."
"Move them over the fire!" I shout.
The knights roll their bodies over the firepits. The flames catch the bottom of Jytte's dress first, rushing up the lace while she screeches. The roses burst into fiery buds, and the threads from the rope around her arms pop apart one at a time.
Ulrich's pants catch fire. While not as fast as Jytte, the flames travel up his body until the rope around his shoulders singes.
Jytte's rope snaps apart. Her body falls, and the metal wire cuts into her neck. Her screams turn into choking sounds.
Two more minutes pass, and Ulrich's body does the same thing, falling prey to the noose.
I point at the men standing near the stage who escorted me to Pompeii and stood by Ulrich, turning on me. I command, "Behead them!"
Another round of shocked gasps fills the arena.
I roar into the crowd, "Those who dare to be disloyal to the crown shall pay! There will be no mercy!"
The knights apprehend the men. Some of the traitors try to fight. Some hold their heads high. The knights lead them to the guillotines and force two men into the contraptions. The metal blades rise to the top.
One man shrieks, "Please! "
"Now!" I order.
The sharp, shiny metal falls, slicing their necks. Two heads fall to the floor with a thud. Blood drips over them.
The foul smell of burning corpses turns thicker .
Fiona buries her face into my chest, then moans, "I'm going to get sick." She glances up, and her face is green.
"Sean, take over," I instruct, and move her off the stage, down the aisle, and through the door. I open the first door we approach.
She flies past me, runs to the toilet, and tosses her cookies.
I grab her hair, drop her tiara on the ground, and kneel beside her. I rub her back.
She sits back on her calves, her eyes bloodshot, with tearstained cheeks.
"Are you okay?" I question, removing my crown.
She leans into me, tightens her arms around my back, and says, "Let's go home, Kirill."
Nothing in my life has ever sounded better.