Chapter 14 Isabel
Two days had passed since my performance before the pyres.
No one dared defy me after that—certainly not the Council following my other demonstration with Sheriff Wilfred.
The man had been loyal to the royal family for decades, but that meant he would never accept my rule after I killed the King and Prince.
Killing him served many purposes. Setting an example for the other simpering lords was chief among them, though I knew there was a faction still plotting against me.
“Let my Children deal with our enemies. They can be quite effective when given direction,” Irina hissed in my mind.
I shivered at the menacing voice that echoed through my consciousness.
When Irina had first spoken in my mind after the ceremony, I thought I might be coming unhinged, that my new magic had loosened my grip on reality somehow.
I could feel the spirit’s voice as it spoke, a thick syrup oozing through my chest.
The sensation was even more unsettling as Irina’s magic thrummed in dissonance with my own.
I maintained control, for now—but how long would that last?
With each passing day, Irina exerted slightly more control, imposing her ancient will over my thoughts and actions.
Pinpricks traveled up my arms at the thought of the long-dead queen consuming my soul entirely.
Can she do that?
Aside from my growing unease over my guest, two tasks consumed my mind.
First, I had to secure the throne. As long as Jess roamed free, my time and influence as Regent was limited. Some of the lords might even move to give Jess full power, eliminating the regency altogether. I could not allow that.
Once Jess was out of the way, Kendall would ascend the throne.
No one, not even my enemies, would think a child of his tender age capable of ruling.
I loved my son—at least that’s what I told myself.
He was a sweet, gentle boy, but he was damaged, the runt of the litter.
He would never amount to anything physically, and his dull wit made me cringe.
If he wore the crown, the Kingdom would become as weak as its broken ruler.
That would never do. However, putting him on the throne allowed me six, maybe seven, years as Regent, plenty of time to figure out how to claim the throne for myself.
Thoughts of Kendall and Jess made my mind turn to Justin.
My heart cringed as his eyes and easy smile appeared in my mind.
He would’ve made a good king. Justin was like Kendall, a gentle spirit, but with added layers of brilliance, confidence, and physical strength his younger brother lacked.
His training with the Protectorate showed in his broadening shoulders and growing chest and arms.
He wasn’t stunning like Alfred had been in his youth, but he was handsome, and his Gift—Spirits, magic’s Charisma flowed from him in waves—made it virtually impossible not to like the boy.
I loved him more than anything, even more than my own ambition.
Until I killed him for it.
I found myself standing at the door to Justin’s room. I turned the knob and walked inside. No one had been in here since he died.
Neatly folded breeches and shirts lay in short stacks on the dresser.
Two elegant doublets hung beside a riding coat in the armoire, its doors left carelessly open.
Two pairs of boots and a set of formal shoes lay perfectly in a row like little polished soldiers awaiting inspection.
I drew a deep breath to steady myself, and the faint hint of Justin’s scent found its way to me.
My icy composure shattered as my mother’s heart finally acknowledged the price I had paid for power.
My baby boy.
I fell onto the bed and wept, a woman exposed and adrift.
A mother without her child.
I closed my eyes and saw Justin’s face before me again, smiling lovingly. My hand reached out, and I felt a wisp of hair as I pushed it from his forehead. I cupped his cheek, and he leaned into the gentle caress. Love and pain rolled through me, twin storms warring in an enraged sky.
“Enough!” Irina’s barbed voice scraped across my wounded heart, ruining my intimate moment. “You are Queen, not some simpering dog!”
Justin’s image vanished.
I jolted upright, startled by the intense rebuke I felt in my core. Chastised, I wiped the tears from my face.
Focus. Focus only on what matters. Only on what needs to be done. Secure the throne. Find Jess. That’s first.
I had sent search parties in every direction, but none had returned with even a sighting.
How hard could it be to find a girl, an old man, and an oafishly tall Melucian?
Frustrated with the Royal Guard’s lack of progress, I had given command of the search over to Danai.
He had always been highly effective, but dealing with Jess might need my personal oversight. I would have to correct that.
My second quandary was how to get my army through the mountain pass in winter.
Irina’s voice thrummed with confidence, insisting that it could be done, but my advisors were emphatic that the snows would be too deep, the cold too harsh.
General Marks believed winter would last five or six months.
I could not stomach the thought of sitting in this inn, reminded of everyone who had once surrounded me, for that long.
The bland food alone might drive me mad.
There had to be a way.
I received a host of new magical Gifts when the final sacrifice was completed. There had not been a moment to consider them, much less learn the extent of their power. I decided it was time to take inventory of my new arsenal.
My innate Gifts were Fire and Clairvoyance.
Hmm, Fire. I could certainly melt the snow and make it warm for men to pass, but how far could that extend? The pass winds through too many mountains and valleys. There is no way I can extend my power that far.
“And you would create rivers of mud that would snare men and siege equipment. That will not work. Move on,” Irina snapped, her voice jarring.
I shook off the feeling of being watched and turned to the Gifts I received through the sacrifices.
With each offering, the Gift of each sacrificed spirit flowed into a diamond on my crown.
The headpiece was Enchanted so the wearer could wield all seven captured Gifts, in addition to their own. That gave me access to nine Gifts.
Nine! I have nine powers!
I knew the ritual would grant new abilities, but I had not fully appreciated how many that would entail. A broad smile crept across my face until Irina’s voice scraped against my mind again.
“I had ten. Stop gloating and get on with it.”
I was beginning to despise my patron spirit.
I sucked in a breath, then ticked through the list.
Enhanced Strength was the first new ability I actually used to toss the Royal Guard out of the way at the inn. Between the bulk of the men and their armor, I manhandled hundreds of pounds of muscle and steel like it was nothing.
I had used Enchanted items many times—the charms that allowed me to Travel were my favorite—but I hadn’t tried using my new Enchanting ability.
I could now create Enchantments, but I did not even know the rules of that game.
Could I only give an item the magical powers I possessed?
Or could I do more? This could be an incredible asset to my army as they faced the Melucian Mages. I needed to ask my Mages to learn more.
Telepathy was a high-value ability. I could certainly use it to strengthen my command structure. My orders could be carried to anyone I had come in close contact with. If only it would work both ways and allow them to speak back.
Then again, I like it when my men do not talk back. I smiled at that thought.
Charisma was interesting. I had always been persuasive, helping Alfred wrangle the unruly pack of lords and advisors and their wild schemes, but having a magical boost for my efforts to influence would definitely help the cause.
Was this something I had to proactively cast, like a spell?
Or was I simply more likable, more believable?
Had I actually used Charisma when I spoke at Alfred’s funeral?
That was another question on the list for my Mages.
Then there were Animal Communication, Healing, and Empathy.
“Healing is fine. The others are useless. Move on,” Irina snapped impatiently.
I ground my teeth.
How do I get an army through a mountain pass covered in many feet of snow and where blizzards are near-daily events?
This was why the legendary Phoenix had created the mountain range in the first place, defeating Irina a thousand years earlier as she tried to conquer the globe—to prevent a repeat of a full-scale invasion by either side, to keep the peace.
White-hot rage flared in my chest as Irina screamed, “That blasted beast didn’t defeat me! It just delayed my rise. Now stop daydreaming and focus.”
I was beyond annoyed with the nasty little bird that kept chirping in my mind. More unnerving, Irina apparently knew what I was thinking. Would I ever be alone again or have my thoughts to myself?
“No. You will not.”
I turned to the sideboard. It took several glasses, but wine seemed to keep Irina at bay.
I stared at the ruby liquid as I swirled it in my crystal goblet.
One silver lining of being stuck in an inn was that large quantities of alcohol were only a bell ring away.
My guards had surely noted the increase in consumption but dared not comment on it. They dared not comment on anything.
I peered out the window and saw the Royal Guard standing erect, pikes upright. Soldiers and Protectorate scurried through the square, following one command or another, the import of which they would likely never fully understand. These were men fighting for me now.
My chest swelled with pride at all I had accomplished.
The war was only the beginning, and there were many leagues to cross before reaching my goal, but we were crossing those leagues.
Spirits knew that was a lot more than my husband had ever done as King.
I took a sip and savored the hint of cherry for a few blissfully silent moments.
Irina stirred.
“Those aren’t men. They’re tools. Useful, perhaps, for the moment,” she said, contempt dripping with each word.
I couldn’t take it anymore. “What do you know? You would still be dead or trapped in that stupid Orb if it weren’t for me!”