Chapter 39
Chapter thirty-nine
The screaming didn’t stop, and even the guards looked numb as they watched their king bleed out in the snow. The crowd was officially done being entertained, and everyone tried to flee the stands, pushing each other over to try and escape the horrors that could come next.
“Don’t let them leave,” Lochlan commanded the guard, casually wiping off his sword as he waited for the men to snap back into their roles. “That’s an order. I want them to see what comes next.”
“But…” one of the guards breathed, his eyes still locked on the dead king. “His Majesty—”
“I am your king now,” Lochlan said sharply, his words clearly cutting into Atlas. “Make no mistake of that.”
Lochlan…is king now?
The guards hesitated for a moment but ultimately decided to obey his command, leaving even Atlas so they could contain the crowds and drag them back into the arena seats.
Cedric pushed past the guards, making his way out of the stands to join Atlas on the field.
He looked white as a ghost, his eyes drifting between my injuries and his dead father with a nauseated expression.
“Lochlan.” Atlas spoke cautiously, shifting in front of his younger brother like he feared he’d be targeted next. “What have you just done?”
“The only thing there was left to do,” Lochlan said calmly, sheathing the sword back into his belt like he’d simply carved a roast duck for dinner.
“Diaspro’s true identity had been revealed, which meant that I no longer held any power over our father.
That simply wouldn’t do, so I made use of his shock and took advantage of the moment.
Now the kingdom is mine.” He turned to look at me, greed saturating his smile. “And Ivalon is next.”
Over my dead body…
“The throne is as much mine to claim as it is yours,” Atlas snapped, picking up his sword from the ground and holding it up in warning. “And Diaspro doesn’t belong to you. Stop this nonsense and let’s gather the council.”
“I’ll be rebuilding the council,” Lochlan said, still not the least bit bothered by Atlas’s claims. “In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to try to fight me for the crown, but considering you’re not the one who publicly dethroned the old king, I’m not sure you’ll have much support.”
“Unless I dethrone you next,” Atlas snarled.
“You can try, but in case you didn’t notice, the royal guard is obeying my commands now.
” Lochlan tilted his head toward the men actively fulfilling his requests.
“You just betrayed Aemastia; I’m sure if you tried to fight me, they’d come right to my aid.
I know you’re talented, Brother, but do you really think you can take on all the guards in your current condition? How’s the finger, by the way?”
“You snake…” Cedric seethed, his fists curling at his sides. “Was this your plan all along?”
“To claim the throne? Absolutely,” Lochlan mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Though I have to admit, the finer details came later. I actually have Lady Brisa to thank for most of the planning.”
“Brisa?” I gasped, my head turning as the soft sound of footsteps preceded the name.
The short blonde cautiously stepped over the bodies, proudly taking her place by the prince’s side with a sickeningly cheerful expression.
“She’ll make an excellent addition to my new council, don’t you agree?” Lochlan chuckled, his plan piecing together one jagged edge at a time.
That’s why she chose him to accompany her on the survival challenge…she planned to make her dream of rising to power a reality.
“Her plan to claim Aemastia worked flawlessly. Tell me, Diaspro. Are Ivalon’s winters as mild as I’ve been told? Or should we plan for a summer wedding?” His taunting smile drove me over the edge, and I took a heavy step toward him to make sure my every word was pegged into his brain.
“Listen well, Lochlan,” I growled. “I will never marry you.”
His smile actually grew, his sword clanging by his hip as he closed the distance between us. His cold hand grabbed me by the chin. Flecks of his father’s blood stained his face, bringing out the red tones in his shadowy eyes as he purred in my ear.
“Oh, Princess, I don’t want you.” He released me, pulling the heat from my skin as he inched back and reached his arm past me. “I already told you, I’ll be marrying the crown princess of Ivalon.”
I sensed someone creep up behind me, and I felt the air leave my lungs as Lochlan took them with his outstretched hand and pulled them in front of me. A young, beautiful blonde Ivalonian with an ugly scar traced over her eye.
“Sorry, little sister,” Mara said, nuzzling into the prince’s side as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’m afraid you’re only second in line for the throne.”