Chapter 63 Seren
Chapter sixty-three
Seren
The solstice arrived in the quiet of the night.
I expected such an anticipated day to begin with fanfare, but instead it started as any other.
Between the council meetings and the wedding preparation, I hardly found a minute to breathe, and the exhaustion washing through me reminded me that sleep too was a thing of the past.
I finally maneuvered a gap into my busy schedule, and I wanted nothing more than to settle into my plush duvet for some much needed rest. I trudged down the hall.
The call of my pillows and the knowledge that, later that day, I would be marrying the man I loved were the only things that kept me going.
My room was locked, and I fumbled in my trouser pockets for the gold key within. It slid into the lock with ease and turned with a click.
I caught sight of the room for the briefest moment before the image turned on its side. There was pain in my temple—sharp and fierce—and when I raised my fingers to the tender skin, they came away bloody.
My vision turned spotty as my head rolled across the stone floor. I caught only a glimpse of red and gold and a sneering smile before the pain lanced through me once more and the world went black.
Dim light illuminated the room, tilting as my vision spun. My head pounded the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat. I groaned and stirred but found I could not move for the ropes at my wrists and ankles. Fear and confusion overtook me, and my pulse rocketed.
A voice disrupted my panic. “Ah, good. You’re awake.”
I tried to make out the person's face, but the figure was blurred. I blinked hard until my sight finally cleared.
Before me was the smug form of Claudian Sgalier.
Confusion brewed at the forefront of my mind. I tried to understand what had happened, but I could not quite grasp it. Claudian was in the dungeons, arrested for treason. At least, he should have been.
“Did you really think it would be so easy to defeat me?” He asked, glib. “I have spent my entire life fostering connections and loyalties in this kingdom. Only death would have prevented us from ending up right here, time and again.”
“Who let you walk free?” I asked, my voice gravelly and my mouth tasting of blood.
“As if I would tell you.” Claudian chuckled. “Anyway, it matters not. Lydia will be arriving soon, and you will be no more.”
“Ayla wouldn’t want this,” I tried, fighting against my bindings. I hoped to appeal to his fatherly instincts, if he possessed any at all.
Claudian frowned at me with disappointment. “Ayla does not know what she wants. I will make her queen, and she will be grateful. She’s always known how to appreciate a good thing.”
“No,” I countered. “She knew how to love a bad thing. She stood by you even though you treated her awfully. She loved you, and you did not return the favor.”
“How dare you.” Claudian bent over me. He grabbed my throat, pressing my aching skull harder against the floor. “I treated her better than anyone else in this palace.”
“That is no great accomplishment. She has been mistreated by all of you.” I choked through the words, straining against Claudian’s grip.
He released me only to rear back and strike me hard across the face. Blood gushed across my cheek as the wound at my temple opened again.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain, but I could not stop the words from flowing. “You are incapable of love.”
“I love my daughter,” he argued, voice dangerously low.
“Yet you would let her die.”
“She will be queen,” Claudian repeated, his anger getting the best of him. He wrenched me from the ground and pinned me to the wall with his forearm firmly across my neck.
“No, not if Lydia Adiran has anything to do with it. She will kill me and Ayla. She will steal the throne out from under all of us.” I met his eyes with steely determination. I did not know if it was confidence or merely the injury to my head, but I no longer felt afraid.
“Lies!” Claudian spat. He pushed away from me in disgust, and I sagged against the wall, hardly managing to stay upright.
“It’s the truth. Did you even read the ritual?” He shot me a warning look. “It can only be performed by a life mágik wielder, and it transfers the power of the participants to that person. She has lied to you.”
“Impossible,” Claudian scoffed. “I have worked with Lydia for over a decade. She would not betray me.”
“You are even more of a fool than I thought, if you believe that. In plays for power, no one is trustworthy, and no one is safe.” He seemed to consider my words for the first time. I had one last move to play. “It is not too late to save your daughter. If you truly love her, help us. Help her.”
Claudian’s eyes rolled almost comically. “You mean, help you steal my throne?”
“It is not your throne!” I shouted in frustration. I hated how we continued to talk in circles. There was only one way to put an end to it. “But neither is it mine. Ayla is the rightful queen. Perhaps not by line of ascension, but by every other measure.”
Claudian eyed me warily, and I returned the expression.
“Help us, and I swear to put Ayla on the throne. She will be queen, and she will rule by her own will.” Claudian opened his mouth as if to protest. “She is more than capable, and as her father, you should be able to see that. She does not need you or me to rule over her shoulder. She will make an excellent queen, exactly as she is.”
“She will fail without me.”
“No. Ayla does not believe herself capable because you told her she was not. She will thrive if only given the opportunity.” I grimaced as he clutched my arm too tight in his vice grip.
“Shut up,” Claudian hissed. “Time to go.”
Bright light scalded my aching eyes as he dragged me from the darkened room. I recognized the path we took as the one that would lead to the orangery, the room where I was to be married.
I could not discern how long I had been unconscious, and I feared what had become of Harkin and our friends. There was no time to wonder as Claudian threw the orangery door open with a bang and tossed me haphazardly to the ground.