44. Penelope
Penelope
Whispers.
They echoed from stone as The Judic and new Magister took their place in The Court. At the far back stood a dais. It tiered up almost like a pyramid, marking the ranks of the veiled men who took their place with the Magister at the top.
I could barely slow my breathing enough to appear calm.
I kept my hands fisted at my sides just so they wouldn’t shake.
What if I wasn’t ready for this? What if I didn’t make it past the first trial?
I felt confident in my knowledge, but that didn’t mean anything.
History wasn’t the same as having intelligence enough to strategize.
Should I have waited like Vaughn suggested?
Why was I so impatient?
A long exhale left me as I tried to slow my breathing.
We hadn’t even started, and I was already beginning to sweat.
The lightweight fabric of the black, long sleeve button up and matching tactical cargo pants did nothing to cool me off.
Heat was pouring from me through the anxiety, and nothing I did calmed my nerves.
The Judic sat down while the Magister remained standing at the top of the elevated seat, staring ahead right at me. His veil seemed darker than normal, and his voice was unfamiliar as he began.
“The trials you embark on were forged when betrayal split our kingdom. Loyalty was uncertain, and blood alone was no longer sufficient in determining who should stand beside a ruler. Queens were always chosen by birth. That’s not enough.
At The Order, they’re chosen by strength.
By intelligence. And sometimes, most importantly, by sacrifice. ”
My head lifted higher as I kept my stare ahead. I didn’t dare turn around to look at Vaughn.
“The trials exist not just to test your value as a queen, but your worth as an equal. The Queen of The Order must understand our history, our enemies, and the delicate balance that keeps this kingdom from tearing itself apart. These trials are not about love. Love cannot keep this place safe. What the trials ensure is our survival.”
The Magister paused.
“Penelope Taylor, Duchess of Rosemoor, do you have any questions before we start?”
“No, Magister.”
He nodded.
“Let us begin.” He looked down, only to look up. “The first trial you will face is The Trial of Knowledge. You will answer a mix of questions and scenarios.”
The Magister raised his hands, and two guards for The Order stepped in, taking their place to each of my sides. They held long floggers with thin leather strands that swung from their movements.
“If your answers are unsatisfactory, missing key detail, or not elaborate enough, you will be struck however many times we deem necessary. Know this, you will not come out of this unscathed. No queen ever has. You will bleed, and you will do so for The Order. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Magister.”
“Do you wish to proceed?”
My fists twitched through the increasing adrenaline.
“I do.”
“We begin…”
He lowered, sitting in his chair. A voice cut through the growing silence, and I wasn’t sure who it was coming from. It left me disoriented as I took in the question.
“We watched you stand in her crown. You spoke Queen Heleena’s words. Tell us… when the king fell and the throne was taken, what did the queen choose to preserve? Why did she form the structure that followed?”
To preserve…
I nodded.
“Queen Heleena chose to preserve the lineage, the loyalty… and the history. Without those, restoration would be impossible. The structure she formed was The Order. She knew the Crown had been stolen, and the families loyal to the king had been dismantled. Most were stripped of their titles, their lands, and legitimacy.” I paused.
“The Order was never meant to rule. Queen Heleena meant it to unite those wronged and to endure until the Crown could be restored.”
Silence.
The Judic lifted small pieces of paper, handing them to the Magister as he silently read over them.
I bit against my bottom lip, flexing my digits as I felt them going numb.
The Magister’s hand lifted, and he held up his index finger.
The guard stepped back, and I braced, squeezing my fist tighter as I waited.
Fire webbed across my back, instantly bringing tears to my eyes as I fought not to step forward from the force.
“The answer was satisfactory. Question two.”
A new voice echoed through the room. Candles flickered, and I blinked through my racing thoughts. I passed the question… and still got hit…
“The Crown today does not govern Parliament. It does not pass law, yet it still holds influence.” The Magister’s hand lifted. “Explain how a queen restores power without appearing to take it?”
My eyes lowered as my pulse exploded in rhythm. Words jumbled together, battling over importance. I stayed calm as I nodded.
“The Crown is about perception. It is not meant to command government. It’s legitimacy, not control.
A queen is most powerful when she projects authority through public standing and symbolism.
She reinforces authority without direct rule.
It is through being neutral that the Crown becomes trusted.
With trust comes influence. With that… power can be restored without conflict.
That is where it is the strongest. Above politics. Not with them.”
For a long moment, The Judic stared at me.
My jaw clenched and their heads finally dropped as they wrote on their papers.
Again, I flexed my fingers, trying not to wince at the fire burning into my back.
At the rustling of the paper and robes, I watched The Judic take turns handing the Magister their insight and votes.
The Magister kept his head down, slowly letting it lift. He held up two fingers and my lids closed, squeezing tightly as I listened to the guard step further away. I tightened my muscles in my back, clenching my fists harder as I waited.
The whistling registered just as the pain did.
The first ripped through the thin material of the shirt, and the second came almost on top of the other, sending me to my knees as I gasped through the agonizing heat.
My hands flattened on stone, and tears came with the sob.
The room wavered, but I forced myself to stand on shaky legs.
“Your answer was satisfactory. Question three.”
“You spoke the vows. You fulfilled the sacrifice by spilling the blood. Why did Queen Heleena choose ritual over rebellion? Why are the rituals an important part of The Order?”
I sniffled, wiping the wetness from my face.
Pain.
Fire.
I couldn’t think.
“Please… repeat the question.”
“You spoke the vows. You spilled the blood. Why did Queen Heleena choose ritual over rebellion? Why are the rituals an important part of The Order?”
My pulse was pounding in my ears. My lungs were so tight I could barely take in air.
“Queen Heleena knew the importance of survival. Rebellion dies. Memory fades. Ritual is the only thing that lasts.” I stopped the sob that wanted to come from the stinging.
“The queen turned it into tradition. Into doctrine and purpose so that the truth is never forgotten. That’s what Holy Night is about.
It’s what the sacrifices are for on auction night.
The Council may control The Order, but we never lost the true meaning behind its purpose.
That purpose is reclaiming the Crown above while also holding power below. ”
Again, I wiped the wetness from my face as I stood straight. Hot, stickiness had my shirt clinging to my back. Papers were passed up, and I held my breath as I waited.
“Your answer is satisfactory. Scenario one.”
I almost cried out in relief.
“The Masterson line did not die, it became known as The Black Line because of its association with the fallen Crown and a disputed claim. While some view it as legacy, others view it as a threat.”
The Magister leaned forward the smallest amount.
“If the public begins to fear the return of The Black Line, and instability erupts, do you distance the Crown from history… or do you embrace it?”
I rubbed the sweat from my palms down my pants.
“Distancing the Crown from the title, The Black Line, weakens our entire stance. It makes it less legitimate. To reject the title is to reject the very foundation of restoring the Crown.” I paused.
“I embrace it. Instead of focusing on it as a threat, I would present it as history. As survival, and the beauty that will become of it. It is legacy, not shame, and because we brand it as that, the people will accept it.” I shrugged.
“Besides, a queen does not hide her bloodline or the one she marries into. She defines it. She makes it better.”
Moments passed as papers were passed up. I flexed my shoulders, wincing as pain branched out.
“Satisfactory. We will take a five-minute break and move on to the second trial.”
I sniffled, nodding and turning to face Vaughn. He was standing, shifting on his feet as he held a bottled water in his hand. I didn’t make it halfway before he closed the distance, turning me so that he could look at my back.
“You’re doing great, love. Perfect, actually.” He winced. “Fuck.” He pushed opened the tear in my shirt. I quickly took a drink. I was shaking so badly, I almost choked on it.
“This is hard.” I sniffled again. “I don’t know if I’m right or wrong. I’m just answering as best as I can.”
“You’re setting the bar. They’re truly perfect answers.
” He straightened, cupping my face. “Just because they flogged you doesn’t mean you were wrong.
” He pressed his lips gently to mine. “They have to shed blood. It just is.” His eyes flickered with fear.
“Dammit. One of those lacerations are deep. Lord Oxley is on standby. I need to get him—”
“No. That’ll just delay it. It’ll take too long. We’ll let him look after the second trial. Before the fight.”
Vaughn paused, his brow creasing as he nodded.
“You’re sure you’re okay? Do you need me to get you anything?”
I took in a deep breath, doing everything I could to try to calm the damn adrenaline that left me in a constant state of feeling frazzled.
“I’m okay. I just want this part over with.”
“It’s already going by fast. Just keep answering honestly and go with your gut. That is the best thing you can do. Don’t overthink it. And I’m right here. You can ask them for a break or time if you need it.”
“Alright.”
Vaughn turned me again, moving my shirt to examine my back.
“I’m going to have Lord Oxley come in for when you’re ready. You’re bleeding pretty badly. I want him here for when this is over.”
I didn’t answer. I handed him back the water as he pulled out his phone. The Magister and Judic were already taking their places. Vaughn looked up, kissing my cheek as his eyes bore into mine.
“You’ve got this.”
I nodded.
“I love you, Penelope.” He gave me a weak smile, and I couldn’t help but mirror it.
“I love you, too.”
I stepped back, turning to face the dais as I walked forward. With every step, my back itched and burned. I licked my lips, forcing control to come back over me.
I was queen.
I was queen.
There was no future queen… there was just me.
I was here, and they were not going to take this from me.
“We now begin The Trial of Loyalty. This trial will be different from the first. A queen must put The Order and the Crown above all. She must choose duty over emotion. Exile… or execution.
“You know something about that.” The Magister folded his hands before him.
“But we will get there. Your history with The Order has proven complicated. You, Your Grace, have been suspended due to words deemed threatening to our structure. Where, during that time, you aligned yourself with the enemy. You return with a restored title. And when the Magister placed The Unavowed in chains…” his head lifted higher.
“You killed him. You took leadership into your own hands. You did not appeal. You did not wait. You decided.”
A long pause had me wanting to shift, but I held still.
“Your loyalty has been demonstrated in ways few before have shown. Would you say you were loyal regarding your suspension?”
“Yes. I could have worded my intentions better, but my loyalty was never a question.”
The Magister’s shoulders seemed to widen.
“What of King Lawrence? Do you believe your association with him reflects loyalty to The Order?”
Anger had my own shoulders going back and my head tilting.
“I would love nothing more than to cut all ties with King Lawrence. To do so puts not only me at risk but The Order as well. So, yes, Magister, I believe my association with him is showing not only loyalty, but my dedication and trust in what our society represents.” I paused but continued anyway.
“And since we’re going through my history, let’s not leave any of it out.
Let us start with my trip to Glenbrae where I was poisoned and lost The Unavowed’s heir after countless petitions to prevent me from going in the first place.
Instead of risking The Order, I was sent and left in the hands of the enemy.
“Let’s go into how I killed the previous Magister.
How I slit his throat because of his crimes against the Crown.
Crimes any of you could have put a stop to but refused.
Our laws were not followed. I understand that rescuing me could have come with its own complications, but nothing was even attempted. ”
The room grew heavy.
“You entered the Great Hall, Your Grace. You killed The Magister, and you forced this council into a choice at gunpoint. You did so… in defense of The Unavowed.”
A calmness rolled through me, and I took a step forward.
“Wrong. I did so in defense of The Intended. The law is clear. Harm on The Intended is harm to the Crown. I was poisoned. Incapacitated while the enemy molested and took advantage of me while and within hours of miscarrying. And… no one… came. My identity, an identity of honor, was desecrated. I was abandoned and had to find my way to a plane, sick, in pain, bleeding, and vulnerable. The Magister’s death was not about Vaughn.
You are not allowed to dismiss me and my child so easily.
We matter, and The Magister restrained the only person who would have acted.
He chose caution over the protection of the Crown just as you.
In my eyes, you all failed in your duty.
I enforced it.” I took my time looking at each one.
“And if I’m given the authority, I will make sure nothing like that ever happens again. ”