Chapter 21
Tears streamed down her face but whether she was sad or angry, she didn’t know. It seemed to be a combination of both. When her mother was alive, it seemed as if everything was perfect, as if her mother was this regal queen without a doubt in the world. Her mother seemed so happy, so full of life, so open . Now that she was gone and all of these secrets were coming out, she couldn’t fathom what she was going to do next. The one person she trusted the most in this world caused her the most pain. She had mourned a monster, not a mother.
What she did know was that she was going to leave Dramolux and Treoles better than she inherited it. Her first task, reigning in the dark magick. She didn’t want Dramolux to go back to the days of forbidden magick. She wanted her people to find their purpose, to see what the world had to offer. She didn’t want them stuck on this continent, defenseless against the outside world. How she was going to reign in this magick was unclear to her but she was sure Madam Bheva would walk her through it when she was ready.
She stood from the bench and wiped her tears as the sun drifted further away. It was time to execute their well-thought-out plan. Thunder clapped in her head with a cacophony of other noises. She knew how dangerous this was, but she didn’t have a choice.
As she walked through the castle and back up to her room, she glanced about, surveying the staff. Some men and women were dusting and cleaning the floors as they locked everything up for the night. Others were polishing furniture and dusting the tapestries. Some at the dining table eating their last meal of the night. No one seemed anxious.
But then again, would they?
Whoever this person was, they were skilled at keeping to the shadows and themselves. After all, her mother and whoever this was followed the same routine for the past twenty-three years.
When she reached her room, Jorlyn was outside with a bunch of her clean clothes in hand. “Where is she?” she asked as she held her door open for Jorlyn to enter.
“Sleeping in the adjoining room. Madam Bheva has been with her all day.” Aymeri sighed, unsure of how she felt about the events that had unfolded. Up until yesterday, she believed her sister to be dead. Finding her sister chained to a bed—her magick bound by shackles and medications—in a room with no sunlight, malnourished, unkempt, and unable to speak, aggravated her.
Why were all these secrets kept from her? Why didn’t her mother tell her? She could’ve helped! She would have stood up with her mother.
“And Drystan?”
“He’s speaking with the assassins and informing them to be at the ready. Should anything go wrong, you are their priority.”
“I cannot thank you both enough for helping me through this.”
Jorlyn smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Aymeri’s shoulder. “You don’t have to keep thanking us. This is what you do for friends.”
Aymeri smiled and hugged her. She was glad to know such kindness and hoped she could repay their favors in more than just money and food for their people.
“Are you going to be okay tonight?” Honestly, she had no idea. Part of her wondered if she was in over her head, but the other part of her knew this was the right thing to do. She had to protect her sister at all costs since no one else did.
“Is everything in place?”
“Yes. Drystan will have two assassins stationed outside of these two rooms. One more assassin will be right here in your room and another with Madam Bheva and Kumud. Everyone is well protected.”
Having the assassins everywhere did help her feel safer but before she took her sister’s place, she needed to see Drystan.
Crossing the room, she quietly opened the adjourning door to find Drystan briefing four assassins on their duties. They were dressed the same as Jorlyn with long black cloaks that no doubt hid their weapons just as she hid hers.
Drystan saw her and inclined his head before finishing his orders. When he dismissed the men to their posts, he closed the distance between him and Aymeri. Taking her hands in his, he whispered, “I don’t like this plan at all.”
Aymeri sighed. “I know you don’t, but it has to be done. Besides, you and Jorlyn will be in mother’s staircase waiting and you’ll have two other assassins with you. No matter what, we’ll catch them.” At least she hoped.
The room fell silent as they all gathered their courage. Jorlyn checked on Madam Bheva and Kumud, explaining the plan once again, as Aymeri thanked the assassin for their service to her. She did the same with the other guards before she closed her room door and said a silent prayer to the eleven.
It’s now or never , Aymeri thought as they made their way out of her room and silently to her mother’s. Once inside, they climbed up the staircase, Aymeri’s heart hammering against her chest. When they entered the room, Aymeri tousled her hair to look just as Kumud’s did the night they found her. Taking a deep breath, she worked up the courage and lay on the bed. As she did so, Drystan made the shackles appear as if they were bound to her feet and he tucked her into the bed.
Her thoughts flew rampant in her mind as they left the room, pulling the bookcase behind them.
What if this is the night they plan to murder her? What if they already know she’s gone? What if this was the plan all along? What if they wanted me to find her so they could kill me? Then I’d be playing right into their hands .
Through the ominous thoughts in her mind, there was still the sliver of hope that rested cold-to-the-touch on her leg: her dagger. It wasn’t as deadly as her bow and arrows, but at least it would buy her enough time for Jorlyn and Drystan to enter. Hopefully, she’d be able to summon her magick if she needed it. Though she wasn’t sure if it would do any good without proper training in it.
Time passed differently up here. She had no idea how long she’d been lying down but it felt like an eternity. The bed was old and rickety; the wood was chipped and lines were carved all over the headboard. Days her sister had been locked up here? Or perhaps days she had been alone and counting the days when their mother would next visit? Bile rose in her throat at the thought. Other than the bed, there was only one torch in the room, which was unlit, meaning no one had been up here since last night. Good.
The shackle, hidden beneath the covers so as to hide the fact it no longer chained someone and concealed their magick, angered her to no avail.
The longer she lay here, the more she hated her mother. How na?ve was she that she complied and allowed her eldest daughter, her heir to the throne, to be thrown in here like some kind of abomination to be tortured and ostracized? Queen Ismana was one sorry excuse for a mother and she hated that she’d been born to her.
The loud thud of a cane hitting against the marble staircase sent her heart into overdrive and it sank to her knees. As keys rattled outside and the lock released itself, fear gripped her by throat and held her there.
Pulling the covers over her head, she tried to even her breaths and still her heart. “Get up!” The voice boomed; her eyebrows shot up but she refused to reveal herself too quickly. “You lazy, worthless girl,” the voice continued.
Aymeri remained where she was, unmoving so as to appear asleep, her hand clutched tightly around her dagger. She needed the person to light the torch upon the wall so she could see who they were before she acted.
The person moved through the room, and Aymeri listened as much as she could to try and guess where they were moving to. The tapping of the cane against the floor helped, yet the sound seemed to bounce around the room. It sounded like the footsteps were moving away from the bed and toward one of the far walls.
She took deep breaths, trying to keep her breathing as even as she could, even as the terror of what could go wrong filled her mind. Even so, she pushed the fear far from her mind and silently slipped the dagger from beneath her dress. As slowly as she could, and taking the chance that the person was facing away from her, she slipped her hand holding the dagger beneath the pillow. With one eye open, Aymeri kept her eye on the man hobbling around with his cane. As the light from the torch filled the room, her stomach flipped, leaving nothing but anxiety behind.
“Dirty girl, must I do everything for you?” the voice growled above her. The cane slammed against the floor reverberating throughout the room and the blanket which covered her was torn away. Anger rolled through her, fire escaping her hands without warning. Her heart pounded in her ears and all she could see before her was the face of ultimate betrayal. Everything in this castle was a complete and utter lie.
“You!” she shouted, fire spewing in the man’s direction.
He dodged her flames, moving toward the door. “M-m-my q-q-queen…”
Her eyes narrowed, she threw more flames in his direction until he was completely surrounded and caged in by them. Her conscience was her only restraint from setting him aflame and letting him burn until he was merely ashes she could step on. “ You are the one who helped my mother orchestrate all of this? Who helped her imprison her own daughter ?!”
“I—I can…”
Aymeri held up her hand to silence him. “There is nothing you can say, Ser Parzival, that can ease the rage burning within me.” Heat continued to boil beneath her skin and it took everything she had not to end him.”
“You don’t understand!” Ser Parzival pleased.
“And I don’t want to understand! What you have done is despicable! There is nothing you can say that can warrant your actions and behavior.”
“I had no choice ,” he hissed, taking a step toward her, walking through the fire without as much as a flame catching him. As he walked through them, the flames died out.
She took a step back, fear seizing her body. “ Everyone has a choice. Isn’t that what you kept instilling in me as a child? You said it to me when my father died and again when my mother died. Are you saying your advice was false?”
“It is different for me! She suffers every moment she watches Treoles thrive! What was I to do?”
“I know naught of what you are speaking, Ser Parzival. Do not hold my kingdom responsible for whatever enmity is lying in your chest!”
“Tell me, then, what would you suppose I do?! Your father —I curse his name—abandoned his wife and child for your godforsaken mother. Was I supposed to just let my daughter’s insanity plague her? Would that have been fatherly?”
So, him following her father from Aixeris was all a ruse to destroy Treoles from the inside. It was a wonder her mother didn’t see through that. For a warrior queen, she seemed so na?ve. No, blinded. Probably by the love she had for Aymeri’s father and his trust in Ser Parzival. She wondered how her father even allowed him to join them if he was Queen Persida’s father. It didn’t make sense to her. She had to keep him talking.
“There are better ways to go about revenge. Instead, you resorted to murder .”
“Murder was too quick for them.” The old man spat on the floor. His eyes were narrowed with anger, frenzied with insanity as he talked to Aymeri. But fear no longer claimed her; hatred did.
“So, what did you think? That you could run Treoles to the ground? Has the entire kingdom turned against us? Then you were just going to give it to Queen Dimia? Did you not expect the people to rebel?”
If he was the one spreading the rumors of her mother’s insanity and had tongues wagging about her, that’s exactly what he was expecting. It was a perfect plan and she was glad Drystan and Jorlyn were around to ruin it.
“The people of Treoles are so na?ve they wouldn’t have even known what happened! Do you know how many of them think you have gone insane? That you killed your mother?”
Of course they did. That didn’t surprise her in the least. Everyone trusted the loyal advisor. But she knew she could change their minds. She’d show them all who the true Ser Parzival was, if that was even his real name. “And how long do you think they’ll believe that? Do you think I won’t expose you? That I wouldn’t execute you for treason? I am not the weak princess who was raised by you. I am Queen Aymeri Maudlin, Warrior Queen of Treoles.”
Laughter erupted from his stomach and echoed off the walls of the room. “Is that what you tell yourself? You wield nothing but a dagger and this wayward magick, Princess . What good is that going to do you? You command no one here. Everyone heeds my requests.” There was an ominous edge to his voice as he added, “You are powerless here.”
“Let me show you exactly how powerless I am.” Aymeri smirked.
She closed her eyes and imagined the hottest fireballs in her hands and an instant later, there they were. Taking a deep breath, she launched them at Ser Parzival who caught them in his hands and laughed.
“Is that all the power you have, Princess ? This will be an easy fight.” He slammed his cane onto the floor and the sheer vibration of it sent her flying into the bookcase hiding the secret door.
Dusting herself off, Aymeri stood again forming another fireball in her hands and this time it made contact with him. It stunned him long enough for her to send two more at him, burning his long tunic.
So, he’s not entirely fireproof. He must have used some kind of spell like the ones Madam Bheva spoke about.
Just as she was about to send another fireball his way, something barreled into her, pinning her against the bookcase. She tried to push through it but whatever it was had a firm grasp on her body. Her head felt like it was going to explode and all of the magic within her refused to come out.
Is this what Kumud felt for twenty-three years? Is this what the shackles do?
If she couldn’t use her magick, she was completely defenseless. All she had was her dagger and even though she was skilled with it, it would be no match for Ser Parzival who must have learned this magick from the kingdom Madam Bheva told her about.
How am I going to get out of this mess?
“Is this really how you want to Ser Parzival? By binding my magick like you did to my sister? Why not keep it a fair fight?”
She wasn’t sure bruising his ego was going to help but she had to try whatever she could. Under no circumstances could she let him win.
“Alright. Let’s see what you got.”
He was mocking her, she knew it. But so be it. She had to do something to get her kingdom back and restore order. He wouldn’t win and neither would his granddaughter; she’d make sure of it.
She pulled out her dagger, hoping to get close enough to him that she’d be able to injure him but no matter what she did, she wasn’t strong enough. He never allowed her within arm’s reach. The bed was completely broken and the bookshelf disintegrated by the time she caught her breath again. She couldn’t keep going on like this.
“Oh dear!” Ser Parzival clicked his teeth. “Poor Aymeri is going to die alone in this room and then after that, so is poor little Kumud. And after you went to such lengths to save her. A tragedy really. You know, when I told you to stay away from this floor, you should have listened to me. But no. Little Aymeri just had to have her way . Just like her selfish mother had to have her way with my daughter’s husband.”
Aymeri banged on the floor, all her anger tearing through her limbs as it raged out of her and into Ser Parzival. Flames covered his entire being but her body was battered from the constant use. It wouldn’t be able to withstand this battle much longer. She had to put an end to him.
“We won’t let you get away with this!” she yelled.
“We? Who’s we ?” He seemed amused by the idea of getting to battle more than just her.
On cue, Jorlyn and Drystan emerged from the door that connected Kumud’s room to her mother’s.
Laughter erupted throughout the room once again. “Your handmaid and this two-bit king of a famine-laced country? This is your army?” He shook his head in mockery. “Just as stupid as your mother.”
Aymeri looked at him evenly. “I present to you Jorlyn Raudaine, Head of Bréīn’s League of Assassins.”
In one swift motion, Jorlyn’s handmaid robes fell to reveal lightweight armor the color of Bréīn’s flag. In another, she held a sword to Ser Parzival’s throat. “What was that about me being a handmaid?”
A brief flash within his eyes and a simple hand gesture was all the warning they had before both Jorlyn’s sword and Aymeri’s dagger were wrenched from their grip and sent flying across the room. “I told you, Princess , you’re powerless here.” Another small hand gesture had Aymeri and Jorlyn flying across the room and slamming against the wall.
Ser Parzival laughed again, adjusting the grip on his cane and raising it, a blue glow emanating from the crystal which sat at the top. “What do you think you can do to me, girl?”
With Drystan and Jorlyn, there was a chance at winning. “I am Queen Aymeri of Treoles,” Aymeri raised her hand, summoning her bow and quiver of arrows. The room was small but the bow was short range at best. She hoped they had a fighting chance. “And I am more powerful than you think.”
Ser Parzival slammed his cane on the ground and the quiver of arrows dissolved into ash. “You may have your magick, girl, but I have been at this far longer than you.”
Aymeri could feel the anger ignite deep within her again, “ You are the one who murdered my father. Who poisoned my mother’s mind to make her imprison my sister! And for what?” Without even a second thought, fire erupted along her arms. She smiled at the brief flash of surprise within Ser Parzival’s eyes.
“I did you a service,” Ser Parzival snapped. “What do you think would have happened if knowledge of your sister’s uncontrollable magick got out?”
“A service!” Aymeri scoffed aloud, her voice bouncing off the walls. The flames which coated her arms seemed to glow hotter than all the other fireballs as her anger mounted. “Some service! My mother must’ve died calling her name, calling my name, while Kumud was driven to murder her. You are a monster.” The scream which tore itself from her throat was pure rage and on instinct she drew her bow back. The moment she thought it, an arrow of pure flame formed and without a second thought, she released it.
Ser Parzival merely raised his cane again and the fire arrow got snuffed out in a shimmering shield of Magick. “As I said, girl, you’ll have to do better than that.”
“You never finished telling me, what do you get out of this?” Aymeri demanded.
Ser Parzival’s face twisted into a sickening smile Aymeri couldn’t stomach. “Besides revenge?” there was a darkness in his laughter as he continued. “Dramolux is at war, as my daughter always wanted. Now my granddaughter is carrying out her mother’s dream and Treoles is all that remains. Once I hand her this kingdom, she will finally have the magick that was her’s by right!”
“Her magick! The magick belongs to the inhabitants of Dramolux, and to no one individual person. She is not entitled to it.”
“You will give it all to her and will bow before the empress.”
Aymeri drew her bow back and formed another fire arrow, “I will bow to no one!”
Ser Parzival raised his cane again, the crystal glowing ominously. “Do you think I went through all of this to keep you alive, girl? My granddaughter doesn’t care how I hand her Treoles, all she cares about is reclaiming what should have been hers!”
Aymeri barely dodged the bolt of lightning which lanced from the crystal. She fired another flaming arrow only to watch as it dissipated against that same shield of magick. Ser Parzival was right about one thing , Aymeri thought to herself, he apparently has more experience with magick than me . After all, it had barely been three weeks since she discovered she could summon fire and she was even now still learning how to control it. Still, there must be some way to beat Ser Parzival or at least catch him unawares.
That’s when her eyes locked with Drystan’s and he mouthed, Distract him . Aymeri’s brows knitted in confusion before she noticed that Jorlyn was nowhere in sight, having seemingly turned invisible. She wasn’t really sure what they were planning, but she had trusted them before and so far they had not let her down. Besides, it seemed that Ser Parzival was largely ignoring them anyway.
Aymeri discarded her bow and formed a ball of fire between her palms, she poured all her hate and anger and rage until the flames turned a searing blue. “Then I’ll send her your head as a declaration of war,” she spat out, unleashing the flames within her hands not as a fireball but as a stream of searing flame.
Ser Parzival was barely able to raise his magick shield in time, and Aymeri smiled when she noticed he was struggling against her onslaught. Even so, Aymeri wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to maintain her attack. Just as it seemed that her anger would no longer be able to fuel the flame, Jorlyn appeared behind Ser Parzival. The assassin wrapped an arm around his throat and kicked the back of one of his leg, forcing him to kneel. Ser Parzival’s free hand clawed at the arm which choked him, trying to pry himself free. That’s when it dawned on Aymeri, so long as he was shielding himself from her flames, he could not turn his magick against Jorlyn.
With that thought in mind, Aymeri advanced on Ser Parzival even as she started to feel her own magick fade. She needed to hold out for a little bit longer, she just needed to get close enough. When she was no more than inches away, she stopped her assault against the magick shield. In the split second it took for Ser Parzival to start to turn his magick against Jorlyn, Aymeri’s hands snapped out. She grabbed the cane in both hands and willed the flames back into existence. The cane hissed and smoked as it fought against her magick, and Aymeri called upon as much hate and anger as she could. Satisfaction came to her with a crack as the cane broke in two, the crystal which sat at the top shattering into hundreds of pieces.
“Kill me,” Ser Parzival ground out, “and my granddaughter will burn Treoles to the ground.”
“She can try,” Aymeri replied, and punched Ser Parzival in the jaw, knocking him out cold. Aymeri stumbled away. There was no more fight, no more energy left in her as Jorlyn dragged Ser Parzival across the room to the not-so-secret staircase without being told. As the adrenaline wore off, the flames which wreathed her arms sizzled out and she dropped to the floor. She was only dimly aware of Drystan kneeling next to her and wrapping his arms around her.
There were no words he could speak that could ease the pain in the pit of her stomach. Where once there was a fondness for Ser Parzival, there was nothing but a dark cloud of hatred. Where once there was adoration for the man who used to spend all day with her, there was now contempt. Nothing eased the pain of the loss of her parents and the confinement ofher sister. Nothing eased the pain of the secrets, lies, and betrayals of those she placed her love, faith, and trust in.
Nothing could ease the anger which fueled her flames and even now burned beneath her skin.
But she had to pull herself together. The people deserved to know. They deserved to see justice done. Forcing down her anger and hatred, Aymeri sat up straight. With squared shoulders and a jawline parallel to the floor, she looked past Drystan to the wall beyond him. “Inform the people to gather in the courtyard tomorrow morning at first sunrise.”
Without questioning, Drystan nodded and stood, holding his hand out to Aymeri. But she didn’t take it. Instead, she pushed herself to her feet. “I must learn to stand without you, King Drystan.”
Drystan shook his head. “Can’t you learn to stand with me?”
Aymeri cocked her head to the side. “Your kingdom needs you. You cannot stay here forever. You said so yourself.”
“I also said it would all change if you agree to be mine, Meri.” There was a desperate look of love in his eyes. “It is true they need me but it’s also true that you need me. There’s nothing stopping me from staying here forever...I mean, there is one thing...” Drystan replied.
Aymeri all but rolled her eyes at his response. “What do you mean? Come out with it. This night has been long and draining and I find myself without the energy to deal with anything.”
“We should honor our parents and join the kingdoms as they had wished,” Drystan said, a small smile on his face.
“Are you proposing marriage to me, King Drystan?” Aymeri inquired and felt a small smirk tug at the corner of her lip.
“Aye, Queen Aymeri, if you will have me?” Drystan said, holding out his hand once more.
Aymeri felt heat centering in her stomach that had nothing to do with her magick. “We will discuss this further once everything with Ser Parzival is settled.” She held up her hands as his mouth opened. “I am not saying no. I am saying we will discuss it.”
“So you will have me, then?” Drystan asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion.
“We shall see, King Drystan, we shall see.” Aymeri headed back to the staircase which led back down to her chamber.