Chapter 34
A fter leaving my mother’s office—My office, I was thrown into a wind whirl of frantic staff and magic clouds. Literal clouds as the poor kitchen staff used their magic to shuttle the food and tables to the coven banquet hall. Chef Dubois almost crashed into me as he carted the items down the long hall. His face was as pale as his uniform. Call me prideful, but when he called me princess, I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from correcting him. Nodding my head, I just watched as he and Clarissa fumbled down the long hallway like two peas in a pod.
Those were some strong, inept genes.
When I finally made it upstairs to my floor, silence greeted me like an odd friend. Goosebumps formed on my arms. I knew it was me being silly, but the halls that led to my wing didn’t hold any warmth anymore. It all felt cold and sterile, like the shifter section of the dungeon. Or was it just me? I thought as I stood at the entrance of my mother’s hallway. If I closed my eyes, I could almost envision her standing at the end of her wing, just coming out of her bathroom with her fluffy white robe and her dark curls wrapped in a bun as she’d done. Oh, so many times. She would turn toward me, sticking out her tongue while I followed her into her room.
Folding my arms around my body, I made my way towards my wing, leaving the cold hall behind. I’m not sure if I will ever venture back down the tan hall, but I knew I would have to get rid of the things in the rooms. Finally, making the castle mines. When I arrived in my room, I threw myself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling until the sharp lines of the paint blended and shifted as my eyes narrowed until I was fast asleep.
When I awoke, Ms. Kincaid was standing over me. Her hands locked onto her hips for dear life. She had the same cocked eyebrow look from earlier on, but this time, she had a smirk on her face. Groaning, I sat up and rubbed the kink out of my neck. Ms. Kincaid was dressed in her emerald house dress as she swept into my closet, pulling out the dress my mother and I brought on one of our trips. The long-sleeved silk dress, the same color as my eyes, sat in the back of my closet reserved for royal funerals.
“I have your bath ready, and I’ll leave the dress on your bed. Or would you like me to wait?”
Without thinking, I hugged Ms. Kincaid. When I pulled away, she smiled. “Please wait. I think I will need help with the dress.”
“Of course, my Queen.” She paused. “I picked the staff. An older gentleman with no immediate ties to our coven, he’s simple. I’ve asked Sir Reid to place him in the holding cells in the coliseum, and everything else is set and ready.”
When I finished getting ready, I entered the room to find Ms. Kincaid folding clothes. I grabbed the silk dress off of the bed, slipping it over my head and over my body. Every curve that graced my body was highlighted in the dress. Ms. Kincaid finally stopped fussing with the scattered clothes, turned to me, and shook her head. “You’re the spitting image of your mother,” was all she said as she walked behind me. She made quick of zipping the dress up, helping me with my makeup, and helping with the last of my looks. A quick glance at the clock showed seven fifty-nine P.M.
“Thank you, Ms. Kincaid. Our guest and the coven are probably waiting for us. Let’s not keep them waiting.”
Without a second thought, a thundering noise made us jump as my white portal cracked the open space in the room. Both Ms. Kincaid and I jumped, staring at each other.
Ms. Kincaid humphed. “Well, someone’s new power has gotten the best of them.”
The shaky smile that settled on my face reassured Ms. Kincaid… or me, I wasn’t sure. Hurriedly, I took her hand, and we crossed the portal into the entrance of the coliseum. Pushing down the wave of nausea that threatened to make its way up, Ms. Kincaid’s gentle hand on the small of my back drew my attention back to my reality. Never let them see you with your crown down. Back straightened. I was about to make my trek to the coven circle when Sir Reid stepped into the small walkway. In his hand held my family’s crown that had been worn by Youna. The emerald gem-encrusted crown was exquisite. Two medium-sized silver bands formed the base of the crown. Between them were rhombus-shaped gems the same color, with Youna in the middle of the crown valley of the crown, holding both in her hands on either side of her. She stood strong, commanding respect.
“Let me fix it for you. It’s the least I can do for what you’ve been put through in the past couple of days. Remember, I’m always here to help you, my queen.” Sir Reid’s gruff voice vibrated through the empty walkway, shaking my already trembling nerves. I guess I could thank Ms. Kincaid for that. Since he always puffs out his chest when she’s around. “Not all the covens are well versed in the old ways, fate, and so forth. I would suggest being conscious of what you’re going to tell the coven. Your mother is going to be missed by many, and some may not take to the sudden change of power as they did with your mother. You and I both know that change is hard for the coven,” Sir Reid mentioned.
“I agree, Sir Reid. That’s why I had Ms. Kincaid find a prisoner.” I replied, agreeing with him for once. His eyebrows scrunched as he looked at me, perplexed. I guess there was a first for everything.
“Smart.” He nodded.
After he fixed the crown on my head, Ms. Kincaid made sure it didn’t mess up my hair. When she came close, Sir Reid nearly jumped out of his army attire. If this was any other time, I would tease him mercilessly. Too bad it was past the start time for the funeral, gauging by the amount of chatter from inside and the magically induced instruments playing my mother’s favorite songs.
“Let’s get to it. Time waits for no one and especially not a Thibodeaux.”
I took one last deep breath, standing by the entrance of the lion’s den with the same straight statue as my mother had always taken. Ms. Kincaid shuffled out of the walkway to where the announcer sat, waiting for my arrival. His white suit made the emerald shirt stand out against the crowd of plain emerald-suited crowd and the light-colored wood stage meant for the equipment. The announcer’s head bobbed as he fought to stay awake. By the time Ms. Kincaid reached the sleepy announcer, someone had knocked him awake. A sheepish smile and flushed face emerged as Ms. Kincaid whispered into the older man’s ears.
Rushing to the stage, the old man almost tripped on the stairs to the stage, causing the equipment to stutter slightly. He paused as he played with the ends of his suit while letting the music end on a good note.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Queen Kaydian Thibodeaux.”
The crowded arena became deathly silent as Sir Reid and I stepped into the elegantly decorated coliseum. Confusion had laced the massive arena as everyone watched my every move. A slight shiver passed through me. Could I do this? What if I’ve gotten it all wrong? It's too late now. It’s our time to shine. Swallowing, I held firm with my head held high and continued down the white carpet leading to the royal table. As I drew closer to the Royal coven table, each golden army bowed slightly. The gold-colored walls reflected the hanging lights that brightened up the dark arena. White banners with Youna and her mates hung in the open spaces along the coliseum walls. Our royal table was made of black onyx marble in a u-shaped that sat high enough, bringing us level with the bottom row of the coven seating row that lined either side of us. House guards lined the steps to the seating area, one on each step for safe measures. Sir Reid helped escort me to the top of the stairs, leaving me to acknowledge each of the six coven leaders from their respective continents.
Turning to face the coven members, I stalled slightly as I looked around the rows filled with my people. Typically, they would be seated in front of me on the coliseum floor, but tonight calls for a unique arrangement. Folding my hands in front of me, “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re all here. There has been a grievous event that took place today.” Turning to Sir Reid, who stood next to me. “Bring out the prisoner and my parents, Sir Reid.”
He nodded and sent the eight of the guards on the steps to complete my instruction.
“See, while we ate and slept, a treasonous bastard wormed his way into the Queen’s chamber and poisoned my parents with white odollam tea.” Pausing, the crowd echoed their dismay. Raising my hand, a hush silence fell over us. “I understand this comes as a shock to many of you…to me as well. We trust our staff, and to be repaid like this is unimaginable. Tonight is not only about redemption but celebration, as our Youna will have revenge for her blood.”
Two guards returned first as they dragged the prisoner to the foot of the stage. He was an older man with raw skin around his wrists and ankles from the chains. My nail dug into my palm as the stinging pain helped to keep the acid in my stomach at bay. Once they reached the foot of the steps, the guards let go of the older man, as he dropped to his knees. Even from here, I could make out the white cast across his pupils. It became so thick that you could only see the faint edges of his retinas. The thick ball in my throat burned when I noticed the tears falling from his face. Ms. Kincaid, who stood by the announcer on the other side of the stage, held her head straight, staring off into the crowd. Out of all the people she could have chosen, she chose a blind man. I’m too afraid to look back at the other coven members for fear I may break out in tears and ask for forgiveness. Sir Cross most likely would make my life a living hell if that were to happen.
The low chatter quickly died as the Golden Army’s heavy footsteps clunked across the cement floor. Funerals were the only time you will hear them coming and today I wish I hadn’t. “Fix your face, my Queen,” Sir Reid whispered low enough through his clenched teeth so that the coven wouldn’t see me blink back the tears that threatened to fall. Keep calm and never let them see you stress. I repeated in my head until my mouth was in two hard lines.
More clunking resounded in the coliseum as the small guards reached the steps with my mother’s casket. The Double casket, my mother’s pride and joy, was made of gold with a full length painting of Youna on its side that I completed when I finished royal classes. Embedded in the end was a diamond we painted emerald that was the size of my fist.
Pushing the small button embedded into the stage. The floor in front of the stage opened wide enough for the golden pedestal and the casket to emerge from beneath the arena. The golden army placed the casket on top of the wide pedestal and stepped back. Walking down the steps, past the kneeling prisoner. One guard waved their hand over the cover, and the casket caps opened, falling to the opposite side so that my parents were on full display to everyone, royal, and coven. Gasps, crying, and mutters of disbelief filled the building. Whether they were authentic, no one will ever know.
“This outsider has come into our village, our home, and desecrated Youna’s bloodline. Afterward, we showed him mercy.” Peering into the casket. My mother, even in death, looked beautiful in her emerald silk dress that almost matched mine with her pin of Youna. I remembered how her eyes twinkled when she found my size in the matching dress. Sniffing back tears, I thank Youna that the Golden Army would never react to me having a mini breakdown.
The coven grew impatient as they chanted wase roe . Kill him in what may be the last words they remember from the old royal language.
The dark green of my magic darted out, reaching the blind man before I could think, and dragged him by the casket. He screamed and cried some more as his legs dragged against the concrete floor, leaving a trail of blood behind. Flinching, I hadn’t commanded my magic to do anything, but it seemed it wanted to put on a show for everyone. My magic dropped him right at my feet. Face first on the ground. Sir Reid pulled him up to his knees, and the prisoner's shackles clanged as he trembled.
“What’s your name?” I asked low enough for us to hear.
“M-Micha?l, M-M-My Queen.” His stuttering was so bad that I almost missed his English accent.
“Why did you come to this coven when you’re clearly from England?”
Micha?l’s face flushed pink, causing his sandy skin to darken. The clinking sound of the metal handcuffs filled the void between us. He was as nervous as I was.
“Speak your last piece, Micha?l. Youna and the goddess will welcome you with open arms.” I said, but Micha?l just stared straight through me. Clearing my throat, he snapped out of his trance.
“S-Sorry, my Queen. I only have one ear,” he responded, turning his small head to the side. The dark puckered scar made Sir Reid’s one look like a paper cut. With jagged edges that ran along his scalp all the way to the base of his neck, whoever did this made sure that he would remember them. This did nothing to help calm my churning stomach. Could I do this to a man who has lost his sight and hearing? Was I such a monster?
Repeating my last question into his functioning ear. His shoulders slumped. “I-I ran away from England…”
His confession made me find the jubilant coven leader of Europe in the royal circle. With my eyebrow arched. I watched as a small smile crept onto his face. Sir Cross was many things, but he was loved and cherished by the European Royal coven and the coven. Both his and mine. All eyes were on me and the prisoner. I wish I had time to learn more about him because I hated to be surprised in front of the coven and royals.
“For?” I asked, curiosity laced in my voice.
Micha?l's bottom lip trembles, swallowing loudly. “Please, you have to understand… My Queen…”
“Micha?l…” I said through my clenched teeth. With everyone’s gaze on me, watching me. Judging me. The back of my dress stuck to my skin even in the cold winter air.
“I killed them. My family…they demanded too much of me, and I—couldn’t take it anymore. I slit their throats and burned the house I paid for down.” He wept. No doubt, Sir Reid placed a spell to regurgitate this horrid story.
It was as if time had stood still as I stared in disbelief. She couldn’t have told him a better story. My eyes felt like cotton, dry, and itchy. When his grubby arms wrapped around my leg, soaking my skirt with his useless tears. The silk garment stuck to me, but I still hadn’t moved as a state of shock washed over me.
“…I ran because I wanted a new life, and in return, the goddesses took my hearing and vision as punishment, but that’s okay since I made it here. Where I found a better life alone.”
To imagine Kaydian Thibodeaux, standing here in the middle of the stadium. The need to run away was quickly dampened by his omission. Finish it! Its life should have been shortened, anyway. My sympathy and tears for the witch were wasted on this despicable fool. Without a second thought, I unsheathed the guard’s sword and dug my hand into the bastard’s hair, pulling at the stringy, weak strands until he screamed. Thank you, Youna, for making me royal just for this. I used my strength to pry him from my leg and lift him with ease as I placed him over the opening of my mother’s casket.
“Go with peace and take this offering to the underworld,” I said the goddesses prayer in the Royal language. Unfortunately, my hand was trembling with anger as I lifted my heavy sword and dragged it back and forth across his meaty neck. Each pass of the sword caused the muscles and tendons to snap like a rubber band. I should have been appalled at feeling how much he shook while he screamed or the harsh snaps of his ligaments through my fingers, but it only made my magic ecstatic as it coursed through my veins, begging to help break the poor witch in half. But that wouldn’t happen as the complete exultation I felt as this blood splattered the white lining of the casket, my face, and my silk dress as I sawed through his vertebra. The metallic scent filled my nose as his blood dried on my face. Halfway through his spine, my arms gave out from holding my heavy sword with one hand. The loud ringing sound echoed throughout the coliseum as the sword found its new home on the ground. Taking my leg, I placed my knee into his flaccid back, locking his lifeless body between me and the casket, pulling at the dangling link of bone until the sickening wet sucking sound as the last of his spine slid out of his body. A monsoon of his dark red essence soaked the floor and what was left of his useless body as I stood watching his lifeless remains slowly slide down the casket and the pedestal, kicking his body off of the pedestal and into his pooling river of blood.
“Go with peace and an offering. May Youna guide you to the underworld.” The crowd repeated softly as I laid the head and spine in the casket between my mother’s hands. My mother was saturated with his offering. Youna and the goddesses will guide my mother…and my father, for that matter.
Closing the casket lid, I spoke the goddess prayer over until I heard the loud click of the lid closing shut. The emerald gem in the middle of Youna burned bright green as it flooded from the sacrificial offering. A hushed silence fell upon the coliseum as I walked closer to the Youna painting on the side of the casket. My fingers felt for the incandescent button in the middle of her chest, and as I pushed, my magic added to my mother’s stored magic. Green flames taller than I encased the casket, flickering and waving as the goddess claimed my parents’ bodies. Through the green fire, I noticed Bernadette and two other coven ghosts paid their respect to my mother. Although I cast Bernadette out of the castle, she still gave me a sad smile and nodded to show respect.
As the raging fire dwindled, I counted in my head until the green flame flickers dimmed till there was nothing left but the smoky scent. Nobody made a sound, not even after I turned, stepping over the dead flesh and up the steps once again. Wringing my hands together, flakes of dried blood decorated the floor in front of me as I folded my hands in front of me. The house guards dragged the lifeless body by the ankle to the dragon woods. With a flick of my wrist, the pedestal lowered below the ground. The last resting place for the Thibodeaux’s. Under the coliseum, where every one of royal descent could feel the soft hum of unbridled power that laced the tan building. A somberness fell over the royals and the coven as everyone turned their attention to the royal table. The loss of a royal from the second strongest family was a significant loss to every witch coven.