Chapter 25 - The Bold
The sky was still dark when glassy-eyed Merri entered the Duchess’s bedroom and roused the three of us. Brietta solemnly unraveled from our tangle of limbs, rising from the bed as the new Duchess of Lycaster. Magnus nuzzled Annalisa’s arms as she awoke into a nightmare where her mother was dead.
Merri said the maids had selected modest dresses to wear underneath our black shawls of mourning. I spoke up, specifically requesting one of my Hyton Blue dresses for the funeral.
I did not want the Dukedom to think I merely belonged to the new head of the House of Hyton, I wanted to be seen as a Hyton.
Even though my plan was to become his mistress, Derrick did not have me, I had him. His heart was mine and his head would soon be mine too. I just had to get access to him again.
Merri directed the two maids in the group to fetch our dresses. When they returned, Rosaline was with them.
I kept my lips pursed as Rosaline dressed me. If she was supposed to be part of Daigen’s “gentle hand of guidance,” she was doing a shit job. Hell, Daigen was at the Darkest Night and he could not even save me from…
I let out a silent sigh as Rosaline slipped my bodice on. It did not matter. I could not change it. All I could do was get Fraleigh out of captivity. As long as Derrick played into my hand like he should, it would be easy.
Then I would bring Riyan back from the mountain and hopefully forget any of this ever happened…if he would even want to look at me once he found out.
Rosaline tied my laces at the back of my dress. She leaned in close and whispered so quietly no one else could have heard, “Fraleigh wants to see you.”
I held my breath. Even though my main task was to free Fraleigh from the Hytons, I did not think I would speak to her again.
What could I even say?
Rosaline disappeared back into the fold of maids as I wrapped the knitted mourning shawl over my shoulders. Whatever Fraleigh could say to me, I just hoped it was enough to free us all.
Merri stood on a footstool as she worked the comb of a sheer black veil into Brietta’s hair.
“You will walk with His Excellency behind Duchess Freya’s coffin,” she said. “No one is to see your face until the coronation.”
Brietta rolled her eyes before the veil fluttered over her face.
Once Annalisa had found an embroidered handkerchief to carry, the three of us walked hand-in-hand out of the Duchess’s bedroom. The other Hyton sisters slowly joined us in the hall of the family quarters. Each sister was shrouded in black and completely silent.
Despite footsteps running through the halls like rain, the palace was still somber and grey. All nine of us huddled at the bottom of the foyer steps, waiting to face the Dukedom.
Stiff-backed soldiers marched through the foyer at the direction of General Hyton, who was dressed in his military uniform. He did not have so much as a scrap of bronze paint left on his skin from the night before, but his body shone with all the brass regalia he could fit on his chest and shoulders. The only part of him that did not shine was the black scarf tied around his right arm and the lavender rings beneath his eyes.
“I bet a hundred marks Derrick does not have to cover his face,” Brietta grumbled beneath her veil.
Annalisa wrung the handkerchief in her hands. “Where is Derrick?”
General Hyton crossed over to us. I quickly glanced away as my cheeks warmed.
It was almost him. After I drank the Cupid’s Blood, I had thrown myself at Riyan’s father.
I had to stop myself from retching as General Hyton bowed to Brietta. “Come with me, Duchess. We must begin the procession.”
Brietta’s eyebrows knitted beneath her veil—she was the only woman tall enough to look General Hyton in the eye. “Derrick is supposed to be here.”
General Hyton’s voice softened. “He is safe. We found that Alastar XI’s death was an accident, but His Excellency is in a secret location because he could still be in danger.”
Accident or not, Anders’s gored corpse flashed through my mind. Only the snap of Annalisa’s teeth pulled me out of the horrifying image.
“ Bullshit, ” she said. “How convenient that the man next in line for the crown is keeping the new Duke locked away? Quit acting like you—”
“Do you want to walk behind his coffin next?” General Hyton’s eyes turned deadly. He dipped his chin and faced his youngest niece. “While you are painting your silly pictures and dancing at the fourth ball of the week, the rest of the world is in chaos. The Sudrian empire is crumbling.”
Sapphira spat a curse in High Sudrian that I could not translate. Rubia grabbed her arm to keep her from charging at the General.
General Hyton paid no attention to the scorned empress and kept his eyes on Annalisa. “Your brother is the last of his line. You never know what an ambitious few would do to the last Hyton heir, especially when he is in such a fragile state.”
I gripped my skirt. Fragile?
General Hyton looked up to address the rest of the family. “The House of Hyton is in a precarious situation.” He shot me a quick, pointed glance. “If you want to make it out alive, you will listen to me.”
I swallowed and shut my eyes, but his footsteps drew nearer. General Hyton bent at the waist until his face hovered near my left ear.
“We will talk later,” he forced something hard into my hand, “ sorceress. ”
My hand instinctively wrapped around my Nordingaard crystal, but every other part of my body froze. In the bloody frenzy of the Darkest Night, I had forgotten that I had even worn the crystal.
General Hyton walked away as if nothing was amiss and offered Brietta his arm. Brietta quirked her chin up and walked beside him, but Annalisa shot me a worried glance.
My heart thudded, but the familiar crystal on my skin sent a gentle whisper of serenity through my body.
General Hyton held the Duke himself somewhere unknown and gave the Duchess orders. He commanded all the palace guards and the entire army.
No wonder he had never made any moves for the crown. He was already the most powerful man in the Dukedom.
If he wanted the sorceress dead, I would not be standing in the foyer with an illegal crystal in my hand. I had to be useful to him…somehow.
With a wave of his hand, General Hyton signaled for us to join them outside. I quickly stashed the crystal inside my bodice and held Annalisa’s hand as we walked into the cold dawn. The rest of the Hyton sisters paired up, gripping each other’s arms as we all joined the funeral procession.
Six soldiers each carried two oak coffins and stood in a line in front of the palace gates. The coffin at the front of the procession had the Lycaster flag draped over it and the Duke’s crown on top. The second coffin had a modest wreath of fuschia flowers laid upon the wooden surface.
Brietta stood right behind the second coffin. She took a breath, straightened her spine, and sent her shoulders back.
She stood alone, but she could not be weak.
A line of the six Barons wearing their colorful House capes stood behind us. Baron Tyreon Elvar wore rich purple and chains of diamonds. His eyes swept from General Hyton to Brietta—the richest man in the Dukedom now had the Duchess for a niece.
General Hyton whistled and my head whipped forward. Legions of soldiers snapped into attention at once. I quickly scanned the soldiers for Brandt’s round face. The entire Lycaster guard seemed to be present—had Brandt thrown on a uniform to stand with them? Or was he sitting in an empty guard house?
I needed to check in on him as soon as I could. I had not heard from him, or Erik for that matter, for too long.
After ensuring his soldiers were properly positioned, the General walked to the front of his brother’s coffin—he would lead the entire cavalcade.
As if waiting for General Hyton’s signal, the Great Sorceress of Nordingaard appeared beside us as she walked to the front of the procession. The Hyton sisters all held their breaths as she passed and so did I, but for a different reason.
Before, Fraleigh had been a walking legend, a pillar of ancient power, and the greatest ally the House of Hyton could ever have. Now, even though the cerulean luminescence of her skin was the only color in the bleak morning, I could not pry my eyes away from the golden collar around her neck that I had never seen her without.
I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry. The evidence of her servitude had been right in front of our faces, and yet none of us had ever noticed.
But why would we? Even as she walked to stand behind the Duke’s coffin with her golden eyes bolted forward, she still carried an air of omnipotence. The soldiers bearing Anders’s coffin even stiffened as she approached.
Though I knew the truth, the question pulled at the back of my mind—how was a sorceress as powerful as Fraleigh still in servitude? Why could she not fight back?
Trumpets and pipes blared, so my mind went quiet. The iron palace gates creaked open and the procession began.
So we took the first step into a new world where Derrick reigned.
Annalisa gripped my hand as we passed through the palace gates and walked the long path to Hyton city square. The citizens of Lycaster lined the streets of Hyton in somber reverence as their fallen Duke and Duchess passed them one final time.
We slowly marched through the square as the pipes sang. Cobblestones turned to grass as we arrived at the cliffside overlooking the Western Sea. Annalisa shook with silent sobs as we stepped into the royal cemetery.
Stone markers of every Duke and Duchess of Lycaster stretched to the sky, standing tall as giants. Each marker was in pairs except one—“the Wise” stood alone.
Ilsa was not even allowed to rest as a Duchess. From what I had heard, her corpse was burned like a peasant—no trace left behind.
We passed “the Wise” to two freshly-dug graves. A whole team of diggers must have worked all night to have them ready.
General Hyton ordered us to stand next to Freya’s grave. Brietta took a step to go first, but then Annalisa tugged me along to walk past her. Brietta stood to the side, allowing Annalisa to stand closest to her mother’s final resting place.
Annalisa stared at the hole in the ground as Brietta joined me at my left side. I took Brietta’s hand in mine, finally ending her tragic solitude.
The eyes of the growing crowd turned to me and I wanted to hide, but I had to be a pillar for the friends who clung to my hands. Out of the three of us, I never thought they would rely on me for strength.
The burden of being their support in front of all those eyes was sudden and heavy. Was that how Riyan felt as the Hero of Lycaster?
I had once thought his stony countenance before a crowd made him heartless, but that was likely just his way of staying strong for the people. He was steel when I needed him to be, and he had not faltered once.
I never gave him enough credit for the pressure he had faced.
The other Hyton daughters filed in behind us as the six Barons appeared, standing in a line by Anders’s grave. All of them had their eyes on the veiled Duchess.
I glanced out into the crowd of noble mourners and saw my mother, standing near Anders’s grave and clutching a small bouquet of fuchsia flowers. Her eyes sparkled with tears. Even though Anders was dead, she still had to play the part of the dutiful mistress.
General Hyton stood in the space between the two graves and his voice rang through the stale morning air. “We gather to say a final farewell to Alastar XI—a brother, father, and friend—who reigned over Lycaster for twenty-two years.”
“All hail the Duke,” the line of Barons chanted.
General Hyton’s eyes swept over the crowd. “Before we begin, it is only right that all of Lycaster knows what became of our ruler. After a lengthy investigation last night, we found that Alastar XI fell from the balcony in his chambers. He was trying to get a better look at some… activity in the garden and lost his balance.”
Brietta gasped and gripped my hand. Even the black veil could not hide her scarlet cheeks.
The Barons exchanged glances, some hiding their amusement better than others. Whatever Brietta had done with Myles and Gerond at the ball was apparently anything but private.
General Hyton cleared his throat, silencing the snickering Barons. “We also say our final goodbye to the bearer of the Lycaster heir—beautiful, faithful and dutiful.”
On cue, the soldiers approached the grave with Freya’s coffin.
“Hail the Duchess,” the Barons muttered.
I bit my tongue. They would not even say Freya’s name.
Two of the soldiers around Freya’s coffin stepped back as the other four lowered Freya into the ground.
The notes of Annalisa’s song with her mother skated quietly over her lips as she stepped toward the grave. “ Raindrop, raindrop… ”
She gave her handkerchief a kiss before releasing it on top of the grave. “ My rainbow will come some other day. ”
I watched the handkerchief fall and whispered, “Goodbye, Freya.”
Brietta sniffed. “Goodbye, Freya.”
Annalisa stepped back to us and I grabbed her trembling hand.
The crowd parted for Fraleigh as she glided across the grass behind Anders’s coffin. Fraleigh took her place at the end of the grave with her eyes forward and her hands clasped in front of her.
Six soldiers held the coffin above the grave. The Duke’s golden crown gleamed in the rays of the morning sun.
General Hyton turned to the line of Barons. “What say you, Barons of Lycaster?”
Baron Elvar stepped toward the coffin. “The Barons of Lycaster wish a triumph over Death to Alastar the Bold.”
“Hail Alastar the Bold,” the other Barons chanted.
The Bold—that was the best they could come up with? I had a list of names that would have been more fitting for that conniving worm.
But none of the pageantry had to be honest, it was all just ritual. No one could really triumph over Death, anyway.
Well, none but a select few.
Fraleigh kept her eyes on the grave as Baron Elvar took the crown of Lycaster off the coffin. The rest of the Barons chanted “the Bold” over and over.
The rest of the mourners joined in, their voices rising like an incoming storm over the sea.
“The Bold!”
“The Bold!”
“The Bold!”
As they chanted louder and louder, Fraleigh stepped forward to the edge of the grave. The sleeves of her robes billowed out as she waved her arms and the crowd instantly silenced.
She held her hands in the air and closed her eyes before placing her palms on the wood of the coffin. She bent at the waist and gave the flat surface of the coffin a kiss.
My stomach turned, but the General stole my attention with his booming voice. “With the blessing of her majesty, the Great Sorceress of Nordingaard, we return Alastar the Bold to the earth—to be part of Lycaster forever.”
Blessing? What blessing? I did not feel any vibrations of the tears in the air or even the barest sparkle of magic.
I stared at Fraleigh, her face the picture of composure. Like the chastity examinations, her blessing was just another lie.
I could have even conjured up something wondrous to impress the crowd if I tried. Maybe nothing more than a little flame, but at least something people could see. Something to sell the lie.
Did that mean…Fraleigh had even less power than I did?
Fraleigh took a step back from the grave and dropped to her knees as the soldiers lowered Anders in his grave. The lower the coffin went, so did Fraleigh. She pressed her palms into the earth and lowered herself in a bow so deep her forehead was in the grass.
I felt like I was looking through the altered mirrors again, but instead of seeing a dressing room, I was watching a slave in the dirt while everyone else saw the Great Sorceress performing a grand ritual.
My skin crawled. How had I never seen it? How had none of Lycaster seen it?
The legend who had scorched armies on a battlefield was long gone, all that knelt in the grass was a mere husk, like her flame had…suffocated.
My own flame danced around my heart. Maybe no one realized Fraleigh had no power because none of them knew what powerful sorcery looked like, or felt like, or how it singed the air and made it tremble.
The only magic Lycaster ever knew was the magic of a Hyton lie.
“Today, the sun will set on Alastar the Bold,” General Hyton said. “But tomorrow, the sun will rise on our new ruler—the young, new Duke of Lycaster!”
“Hail Alastar XII!” the Barons shouted.
Alastar XII—not Derrick, not Midnight, not Der. Another Alastar.
And we did not even know where he was.
General Hyton ended the funeral by plunging an iron sword into the earth at the head of the grave—a weapon to fight Death. The mourners trickled out of the cemetery. Baron Elvar carried the crown of Lycaster away, ready for the coronation at the next sunrise.
Even as all the Barons and the Hyton daughters left, Fraleigh stayed on the ground in reverence to the fallen Duke.
Only my mother crossing the cemetery could tear my eyes away from the Great Sorceress in full submission to her last owner. Mother laid the bouquet of flowers at the head of Freya’s grave and I swore I heard an apology escape her lips.
She tugged her black shawl closed and followed the line of mourners back to the city.
I stroked Annalisa and Brietta’s hands with my thumbs. “I have to stay behind and speak with Fraleigh.”
Brietta let go of my hand and held it out to Annalisa. “Come on, Anna. I do not want to walk by myself again.”
Annalisa sniffed and took Brietta’s hand as they walked past the tall graves.
As soon as they left, Fraleigh and I were alone. For a few heartbeats, I just stood above her and listened to the waves of the Western Sea crash into the Hyton cliffsides. Mist crawled around the gravestones. Sea birds cawed over us. Clouds moved peacefully overhead in the grey sky.
Fraleigh pressed up from the ground, but refused to look at me. “I hear you came to save me.”
I gripped my hands. “I…I am. Your sister said she would release Riyan if I—”
“Don’t.”
I furrowed my brows as the sea crashed against the cliffs in the distance. Fraleigh’s eyes stayed north as I struggled to find words to say. Why would she not want me to free her?
“I am…restricted on what I can say,” Fraleigh finally said. “Everything must happen at the right time, and in the right way…but you still get a choice. Remember that you get a choice.”
I dared step closer. “What choice?”
Fraleigh paused, carefully selecting her next words. “Carrying the Man of the Mountain’s gift is a heavier burden than most people at the edge of a wishing well could ever imagine. What seems like a key is actually a lock.”
Did she think I was as weak as she was?
I straightened my spine. “My life has been nothing but a series of locks, one right after the other. Iron locks. Doors slammed on my nose. Bricks of stone that crash in front of me. I still find a key every time.”
Fraleigh finally turned, her golden eyes gleaming as much as the collar around her neck. “I believed that once too.”
She let out a breath and extended her left hand to me, where a faint scar crossed her palm. The white light twinkled between Fraleigh’s eyes.
The Great Sorceress had let me in.
My stomach turned at what I was about to see, but I stepped forward. My left hand met hers, my fresh scar brushing up against her centuries-old one. The moment our skin touched, the shrieking of the winter wind filled my ears.
I closed my eyes and let the scream of wind push me down the tether into Fraleigh’s mind.
Then I opened my eyes and saw snow.