Chapter 2
The glass box in front of Queen Beatryce Blackbryar sparkled, the swirls of green and blue undulating like water, they were so vivid. It sat on the desk in the small office, part of the apartment that Beatryce had just taken over. The apartment that had once been her grandmother’s.
Script was etched on the lid. She ran her finger across it, feeling the letters where they engraved the glass. She read the words softly to herself. “By the breath of my blood.”
What did that mean? Bea tried to think like the grandmother she’d never known, but the pain in her hand made it difficult. It throbbed where she’d injured it grabbing the blade that had pierced her mother’s body. She’d wrapped it, but she’d have to get it looked at soon.
She was of Leda Blackbryar’s blood. On a whim, Beatryce leaned forward and exhaled, clouding the glass with her breath.
As the condensation cleared, she heard a soft crack, followed by a gentle sigh and the faint aroma of anise. She’d smelled that before, on one of her grandmother’s gowns that her mother had inherited.
Bea sat back. The box was open.
She hesitated, heart pounding. What could be inside? Might it be something that would heal her mother? Some kind of powerful magic that would return Anyka to full health? To her rightful place on the throne?
Beatryce bit her lip. She knew there was very little possibility of that. Whatever was in this box was something Leda had meant for her, not Anyka. Bea hadn’t even been born when Leda had arranged this box for her.
She might have dreamed of Beatryce, but had she also dreamed that her granddaughter would accidentally pierce her daughter’s heart with a blade intended for that wretched Radiant queen?
For all Leda’s power, Beatryce couldn’t imagine she’d seen that. Not even Beatryce had guessed such a terrible thing would happen.
She sniffed. That blade should have buried itself in the chest of Queen Sparrow. Not her mother’s heart.
She glanced in the direction of her mother’s apartment, just across the hall, where her mother lay at the edge of the Beyond, as much dead as she was alive.
The only thing keeping her from slipping across the threshold was Radiant magic.
The spells placed on her by Sparrow’s professors.
For all Bea knew, those spells were making her mother worse.
Anything was possible with those repugnant Radiant.
Again, Bea’s hand ached.
Bea stared, not seeing the wall before her, but her mother’s pale skin and unresponsive form on that bed. The dagger’s hilt protruding from her back, the tip wet with blood where it projected from her chest.
A sob caught in Bea’s throat. She deserved to feel pain. She’d put that dagger in her mother’s back. And now she’d been made queen. She wasn’t worthy of the crown.
And yet, here she was. In charge of the kingdom of Malveaux. About to be wed to a troll prince to secure an alliance that her kingdom needed now more than ever.
She swallowed and pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. No tears. She had to be strong. She had to find a way to save her mother and make things right.
The smell of anise drifted toward her again.
The box.
She returned her attention to it. The lid had raised enough for her to see that it was open. It was up to her to lift it the rest of the way.
She let out a breath and took the lid in hand, hinging it back. Inside the box, on a bed of blue-black velvet, sat a portal ring, a gleaming silver key, and a small scroll of parchment tied with a length of black silk cord. Trinkets.
“Hmph.” None of those things were going to save her mother, were they?
She lifted out the portal ring. It was heavy platinum and the stones were of fine quality and well-polished. She counted thirteen of them. With that many possibilities, a ring like this could take her anywhere.
Had this been one of her grandmother’s rings? Perhaps. Beatryce wasn’t supposed to travel by portal by herself. But she was queen now. She could do whatever she liked.
She set the ring down and took up the key next. It had weight. The silver warmed quickly in her hand. The high polish didn’t show a single scratch. Like it had never been used to unlock anything. What did it open? Could that information be in the scroll?
She returned the key to the box and exchanged it for the scroll. She slid the silk cord off. The paper was stiff but not brittle. Carefully, she unfurled it, releasing more of the scent she’d come to associate with her grandmother.
The handwriting was her grandmother’s. She’d seen it before. That looping, slanted hand was unmistakable. Nothing like her mother’s thick, angular letters.
My dearest granddaughter,
If you’re reading this, I have already gone to the Beyond. How I wish I could be there with you, for I also know that if you are reading this, you have become queen.
Such an odd thing to write as I am preparing for the celebration of your mother’s sixteenth birthday. I wish you could see how beautiful she is, but then, perhaps you have seen the portrait of her in her younger days. I’m sure you will outshine us both.
Beatryce paused. She knew her history. Everyone in Malveaux did. Anyka’s sixteenth birthday celebration was when King Lyonus and Queen Arylias—Leda, to her family and familiars—had been poisoned to death.
This letter must have been written just before that. She drew in a breath, very aware that she was holding in her hands one of the last communications from her grandmother. It sent a pang through her.
She paid closer attention to the words, looking for any clue that her grandmother might have known what was coming.
Regardless of my state, I know that you are beautiful and cunning and as fit for the throne as any Blackbryar woman has ever been. Perhaps more than I or your mother were.
I imagine you feel very alone right now. Possibly, unsure of yourself. You might even be questioning your ability to rule. Do not listen to those foolish voices in your head. You are the granddaughter of Arylias Blackbryar and the daughter of Anyka Blackbryar. You were born to be queen.
Bea sniffed. Despite her grandmother’s words, she didn’t feel that way at all.
The things in this box and the ones to follow are meant for you and you alone.
Bea blinked. Ishmyel had only given her one box. She would have to ask him about that. She read on.
Share them with no one. Not your lady’s maids, not a single one of your ministers, and especially not your husband, should you have one.
In the next box, I will explain the portal ring, but for now I will tell you that it will take you places you may never have imagined. It’s an exact copy of the one I wear.
The key is also an exact copy of my own and the door it unlocks will give you the rest of your inheritance from me. I will explain that in the third box. I only wish I could be there to share all these secrets with you in person. What an amazing and powerful queen you will be, my darling girl.
Remember always that you are a Blackbryar. Strong, courageous, and to be feared. Let no one tell you differently.
With much affection,
Your grandmother
Beatryce let go of the bottom of the scroll and it curled back on itself. She wound it tighter and slid the black silk cord around it again, then returned it to the box. She took the ring out and tried it on her ring finger.
It fit perfectly. She admired it for a moment, then slipped it into the little pouch on her belt for safekeeping. She turned to the key next, hefting it in her hand. What did this open?
Leda said it would unlock the rest of Beatryce’s inheritance. She’d also mentioned secrets. Her grandmother had been a great practitioner of dark magic. Could it be she’d left her grimoires behind for Bea?
That was an exciting thought, but would she be able to do anything with them?
She frowned. Once again, her childhood refusal to improve the slight magical abilities she’d been born with had come back to haunt her.
She should have listened to her mother, should have practiced and taken lessons and made herself master those skills.
Refusing to do so had been immature and now she was paying the price. She couldn’t even heal her own wound.
She tucked the key into the pouch with the ring, then picked up the box to find a safe place for it. She looked around. She couldn’t just put it on one of the shelves. Anyone who came in might open the box and take the scroll.
Although there should be no one in this office now that Beatryce had taken it over. Still, the servants and her lady’s maids would have access.
She glanced down at the desk. A drawer might be wiser. The box would at least be hidden from sight that way. What she needed was a vault of her own.
There should be one in this apartment, in the dressing room. Her grandmother would have kept her favorite and most worn jewels there.
But the lady’s maids would have a key to it, so it wouldn’t really be completely secure. They’d have to have access in order to fetch any jewels Bea requested. That was part of their job.
Which meant that the existing vault, wherever it was, wouldn’t do either. She’d have to speak to someone about installing a new, private vault for her. Maybe in this very office. Something that only she would have a key to.
Until that time, the scroll would have to stay with her, too. She added that to the pouch at her waist, then put the glass box in the center of the window ledge that overlooked the gardens.
It would catch the light there, and with nothing inside it, there was no reason to keep it hidden.
Satisfied, she left the office to see how the workers were coming along with moving her things in.
She went from room to room, pointing out a few items that needed further attention.
Chairs that needed to be arranged differently.
A painting that wasn’t hung quite as she’d requested.
Vases that should have been filled with flowers by now.
There was so much more for her to do. She had her mother to check on. She needed to speak to Wyett, who she supposed could act as her councilor as well, and see how the search for a healer and a magician to replace Nazyr was coming.
She also needed to speak to her great uncle Ishmyel, to see where these other boxes might be that her grandmother had mentioned.
If Leda had indeed left Beatryce all of her tools and books for practicing the dark arts, the possibility of help for Anyka might be closer than anyone realized.
She held fast to that thought as she went off to find Ishmyel.