Chapter 84 #2
Red fabric trailed behind her in a long train, her gown fit for a queen.
Though it did nothing for her sickly pallor, her freckles stark against her ghostly cheeks.
“Hello, Princess,” she taunted, tossing a royal blue bag onto the table.
It was Castellan’s. The one he’d lost when they first ran into Elodie in Moldenna.
“Did you miss me?” she asked, clutching her hand, her thumb sweeping over a bandage covering two missing fingers.
The noblewoman nodded to Eris before placing a kiss on Castellan’s brow, mussing his blond curls. Without sparing her a glance, Eris pulled out the chair once meant for Mora’s father and motioned for her to sit.
“I’ve missed you,” she muttered, sinking into her seat’s plush cushion and leaning on Castellan, her strawberry blonde hair tickling his shoulder.
“And I’ve worried.” Castellan wrapped a protective arm around her. “You shouldn’t have taken my things and forced my hand like you did. Straying so far from Moldenna was foolish; I had everything under control.”
“Did you?” She twisted in his hold, hailstorm eyes clashing with his thunder.
“You’ve always been softhearted; I knew you wouldn’t be able to stomach everything, and there was no way you’d agree to my plan if I didn’t make you.
Eris told me about the attack you arranged to force everyone to Cannamar.
” She pouted, hugging him as best she could while they remained seated.
Wincing when her wounded hand brushed his upper back.
“I know that was hard on you. You should have had me handle it. Especially since father was finally willing to let me go—I needed this. Needed to prove to him I could get his Indentureds back.”
He gently squeezed her shoulder. “Didi, I would rather destroy myself and know you’re safe, than put you in harm’s way.”
“I had...” Elodie’s lower lip wobbled. “I had Silas. I was safe, until the Fae…”
A muscle ticked in Mora’s jaw. She surveyed the room, the gathered lords muttering silently to one another while they waited. Completely unfazed. Eris she ignored, the weight of his dark eyes an endless presence. “Another lie, gallant knight?”
“I told you I’d do anything to protect my sister,” Castellan said, squeezing Elodie’s shoulder one more time before pulling away.
“You had us butchered. Imani’s dead because of you!” she snarled, her feral gaze finally flicking to Eris. A silent accusation in her stare: and you. Eris stared at his boots. Coward.
Castellan swallowed, a halo of curls tumbling over his brow as he bowed his head. “It wasn’t supposed to be that way. You were supposed to be in the camp’s center. You were supposed to end things before they grew out of hand.”
“You don’t get to play with our lives and place the blood on my hands, Castellan.” Her eyes flitted to Elodie. “No matter how softhearted she thinks you are.”
Elodie was Didi. The sister Castellan was all too willing to debase himself to save, even if it meant organizing bloodshed, Imani’s death a stain on his hands.
It was almost funny… He had told Mora everything in his own twisted way.
His laments about his poor sickly sister, locked away in Briar Manor, so despised by her parents, Lord Briar hadn’t deigned to acknowledge her.
“All the carnage, the Halflings who moved as if under a spell… it was you.” The weight of her stare washed over Elodie—Mora took pleasure in the way she shivered.
A pout sullied Elodie’s noble features. “You could try to sound a little more impressed. Before that, I’d only practiced blood thralls on smaller creatures my mentor gave to me. I was destined to be a great Enchanter...”
A sneer sullied Lord Briar’s face, his fellow lords pretending not to notice.
“Sorry, Father,” she muttered, staring at her mangled hand. “I did as you asked and was never seen using my... abilities. I hope I’ve made you proud.”
Castellan gave his father a stern look when the lord didn’t say anything, then pulled Elodie’s bag—his bag—into his lap, fiddling with the knots holding it closed. “I have one final wish, Mora, and then we’ll decide what your future looks like.”
“What my future looks like?” Pain bloomed in her chest, her nails digging into her bodice and pinching her ribs. The tightness in her lungs squeezing harder. “What about your sister’s future under the Laws?”
Eris hung his head, black hair falling over his brow, while Castellan stared at her as if she’d gone mad.
“You should know,” he muttered, pulling something from the bag, silver glinting in his grip. “The power of the Crown makes it easy to protect one person.”
“The power of the Crown.” She chuckled, a dark, broken sound. Mora knew the relic well. She’d studied its sharp sapphire-encrusted points nightly, imagining Dother’s end. “I am the only surviving Althenis; there is no Crown without me.”
“This document says otherwise.” Lord Briar slid a piece of parchment across the table, black ink script decorating its center, a myriad of signatures beneath.
The Royal Crest was stamped on its header, though the ink was red instead of blue.
“The Council ran Moldenna in your absence, while Castellan wrote to us and ensured we were informed and able to coordinate our guards’ positions throughout Berwick.
We see the merit in his leadership and unanimously agree you are unfit to rule.
For your disappearance, the carnage you waged across Berwick, and the threats you’ve made to those who stand with the Laws. ”
“We voted to crown Castellan as the new ruler days ago,” Lord Austeria added.
Days ago… Had Castellan known? Mora thought back to every time he’d disappeared, insisting she never enter her flask and remain where she was, rarely asking her to join him while he mailed his letters. That bastard.
“Fuck you,” Mora spat. “Fuck all of you.”
Someone chuckled in the corner before Lord Austeria muttered, “That attitude doesn’t bode well for her.”
“Mora,” Eris whispered, inching closer. “Play nice and Castellan and I will make sure you’re well taken care of.”
“Oh yes, because you’re so good at that.” Her fingers curled into tight fists, shaking at her sides. When he tried to reach for her once more, looking at her the same way he had that night in his barn, Mora slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Castellan frowned. “One last wish, Mora, and you can rest in your flask like you’ve wanted.
We’ll discuss what happens next once you’re ready.
” He held out the crown in offering, unable to meet her eyes when she accepted.
“I wish for you to abdicate any rights you have to the throne as you crown me the new King of Berwick. You will do so now, and once we are done, you will never speak a word of our time together to anyone outside this room.”
The wish clawed its way up Mora’s back, the frigid sensation so cold it burned her bones. Muscles tensed, her teeth digging into her cheek, a metallic tang flooding her mouth. But she endured.
Staring at the crown, Mora realized how foolish she’d been to believe such a thing could save them. It was simply a pretty lie she’d been told her entire life. There was no altruism in royalty, no goodness to be found in a system that uplifted the wealthy, the powerful, to rule over them all.
This wasn't their salvation; this was their downfall. And Castellan would lead them into darkness.
“All this time, I’ve hated myself for what I’ve become.
For the violence I can’t seem to escape, and all the things I’ve done to survive it.
” Mora turned the crown around in her hands, her elbow bumping Eris’s arm.
Her pulse calmed, a stillness in her center as the beast in her chest watched with ravenous eyes.
“Thank you for showing me I was right from the beginning.”