Chapter 36 #3
The memory of Leon and me fades away and my horrible reality returns.
Grayden waits under the arch, impatiently tapping his foot.
My tears do not stop. Footsteps grow heavier with each step. Grief guides me down that aisle.
Every stride is a reminder that any future with Leon is over now, the loss of our future laid out before me as I am forced to marry another man.
I finally reach the dais, every part of me wishing I could turn and run, but that would cost Cyanna her life. Trumpets play, my ears ringing from the blast as I stand next to Grayden, the crowd cheering.
He spins lies of Princess Erenia’s betrayal and abandonment that led to her death.
His voice booms around the room. “Fae Queen Izadella is my new bride. You eat the fruits of her magic tonight. She will bring back prosperity and wealth to Adreania. The crown will be our greatest asset in the war with Kalvorn.”
More cheers follow.
“The crown has chosen her to be our queen. Tonight, we celebrate our union with a wedding like no other.”
An old man in plush robes joins us, I can only assume to wed us. I’ve never attended a mortal wedding. In Ellova we have mated unions and Zemra ceremonies, a celebration with loved ones and a chance for the couple to show off their stones.
My mind must want me to suffer more: a vision of Leon and me is crystal clear. He waits at the end of the aisle, our friends with us; bright stones decorate our neck. The thought is painful, and I shove it away.
There is only Grayden now.
We face each other. He holds out his clammy hand, and through gritted teeth he spits out, “Make this quick.”
The man nods quickly. “Do you, King Grayden Fasaile, son of Jedrick Fasaile, take Izadella of the fae to be your queen?”
“I do.” He says the words so flatly, as if his wedding is a trivial event.
The elderly officiant turns to me and recoils a bit when he meets my glare. I understand it’s not his fault I stand before a monster to wed but he strikes the last nail in my coffin with his final words.
“Do you, Izadella of the fae, take King Grayden Fasaile to be your husband and obey him in all ways?”
No, I fucking don’t
Grayden’s hand tightens in mine, motivation to speak.
“I—” I cannot bring myself to say the word. “I—”
An explosion behind us has courtiers screaming, glass breaking, and the throne room descends into chaos.
Hope surges so quickly my head spins that it’s Leon coming to save me but pouring into the crowded room are men with makeshift weapons.
Theodore and Clive are at the front. The royal armor they wore to escort me to each bazaar is gone; they fight alongside the healed men of Beggars’ Row.
Adreanian rebels clash with Grayden’s men.
My heart soars and for the first time since I've arrived in this shit kingdom, happy tears fall on my cheeks as more and more rebels arrive, ready to take back their kingdom. The castle guards may have superior weapons, but they are outnumbered.
The elixir worked and they now have a fighting chance to rise up against their tyrant king.
I’m desperate to escape, not wasting this distraction, but Grayden anticipates my movement, snatching me before I can run.
Guards surround us. “I want every traitor alive, and in the dungeons,” he yells at them, dragging me through a hidden door to some sort of small armory and finally lets me go.
Lyrora and her guard are close behind us.
Everett shoves Cyanna into the secret room with us and she reaches for me.
I pull her close while Everett and Grayden argue.
She trembles in my arms. I wish I could get her out of here.
All she has ever done is help those in need.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper into her hair.
“I’m going to find a way to get you out of here. ”
She nods but does not speak. Every moment here is wretched. I can feel her sorrow.
A pounding on the door makes me jump. “GIVE US LADY ARRA!” Theodore shouts, his fist banging again.
I need to live long enough to thank him for halting the wedding, for trying to save me now.
“They want the crown!” Grayden seethes.
I glare at him over Cyanna’s head, desperately wanting to scream that they do not seek the crown.
They could no more control it than he can.
They want him dead. Those of Beggars’ Row can now stand up instead of being used to fight a war they could never win, all because of the healer king that sat under his nose for years, my friends, and me. Oh, to see the look on his ugly face.
Lyrora makes a frustrated noise, gaining the attention of the whole crammed room.
“Damn it! Why not have her make you a new crown?” she angrily points at me.
“She is a fae jewelry maker and her ancestor made the one she wears, did she not? Why can’t she make you one so you would have magic of your own to command? ”
Grayden whirls on me with hungry eyes. “Can you do that?”
Letting go of my cousin and backing up a step, I stammer, “Y-you are mortal. The magic would not work. Surely you know this by now…”
“What about Everett?” he demands, inches from my face, pointing at my once friend. “He has magic! Can you make him one? If he has the crown’s magic, we will destroy Kalvorn in a day.”
Trying to appear frantic, I look between the two men. “No, no. I have nothing I could create with. Adreania has no magic here!”
Everett’s face is feral with delight. “But your mother’s forge does.
You have made many, many magical items! You can recreate the crown!
” He turns to Grayden. “She is half mortal. That might be why she cannot control the magic. I am full fae. It would obey me! We need to go to her forge! I know where it is. We can have it by tonight.” They both turn to me with the same terrible expression.
Greed and dishonor, cruelty and wicked delight.
“Please, Everett.” I picture never returning to Ellova and my tears come easily. “Don’t do this. You would not be able to control it!” I almost smile, nearly give myself away at the look of unearned confidence he now wears.
“Watch me, Della. Watch me.”