Chapter 27 - Crown and Veil
The sun’s glow lit the horizon on the morning of Derrick’s coronation. Blue and white banners fluttered above the city square. Two thrones adorned with golden bull’s horns stood at the center of the scaffold.
Brietta stood in front of her smaller throne, a sheer white veil covering her face. Baron Elvar was beside Derrick’s empty throne, holding the crown of Lycaster. The other five Barons stood in a line behind him.
Annalisa and I gripped each other’s hands as we stood at the front of the crowd. A line of soldiers in gleaming brass separated the Hyton women from the throngs of cheering townspeople.
Amethyst put her hand on my shoulder for balance. Her brown hair was neatly braided around her tiara, but her legs shook under the weight of her pregnant belly. Garnet stood on her other side, her eyes vacant as Amethyst’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“We should have the soldiers fetch you a stool,” I whispered.
Amethyst smirked, even as sweat beaded on her temples. “Mama stood through the whole coronation while in labor with twins. I can make it.”
Trumpets blared and the crowd cheered. War drums pounded and the Lycaster soldiers forced the crowd to part so they formed an aisle. The crowd of peasants and nobility alike rippled as they all dropped to their knees.
The hooves of a lone horse clacked on the cobblestones. General Hyton appeared, wearing the famous Taurus shield on his arm. I tried not to imagine the barbarian blood that had once stained the now-polished shield.
General Hyton’s eyes shone brightly as he led a white horse through the aisle.
I kept my mouth clamped shut, but some of the Hyton sisters gasped as soon as we caught sight of Derrick on top of the horse. His curls hung limply around his hollow cheeks and his mouth was dry and tight. His Hyton Blue cape and brilliant gems adorning his hands and chest did nothing to brighten his pallor.
My stomach plummeted. In his hand was Alastar the Conqueror’s spear. It looked exactly the same as in Fraleigh’s memory.
Like the Taurus shield, the Conqueror’s spear was a Hyton relic, passed down with each new Duke. I knew the spear played a role in the coronation, but I had always thought they used a ceremonial replica and not the spear.
The cheers of the crowd hushed as Fraleigh dutifully followed behind the horse wearing the same blue and white robes she wore to the funeral. Her chin was high, exposing that horrible collar.
The horse reached the front steps of the scaffold and Derrick jumped from the saddle. He looked nowhere but the steps as he ascended the platform. General Hyton handed the reins to another soldier and followed Derrick. Once Fraleigh had glided up the steps, General Hyton addressed the crowd.
“Vengeance!” he boomed. “A son’s vengeance for his father built our Dukedom!”
I held my breath and shifted my legs, ensuring my Nordingaard crystal was securely tied to my thigh. Even though General Hyton was merely regaling the story of Marcus Janus’s treachery, my stomach turned.
He knew I was a sorceress and had still not dragged me away in chains. He had to have something planned.
I tried not to stare at Traitor’s Bane in its sheath across the General’s back.
General Hyton armed Derrick with the Taurus shield, symbolizing how a son takes up the legacy of his fallen father, and turned back to the crowd.
“And just as Marcus Janus pretended to be our Conqueror’s ally,” he said, “a traitor is in our midst!”
The crowd jeered and my blood ran cold.
Although the crystal on my skin kept my heart from flying out of my chest, I squeezed Annalisa’s hand.
Alastar the Conqueror had gored Marcus Janus with his spear as soon as he came down from Nordingaard mountain, taking the throne of the newly formed Lycaster for himself. To keep the tradition, every Duke had slain a traitor at his coronation. Was that General Hyton’s plan for me? Reveal me as a sorceress and then drag me up on the scaffold?
I closed my eyes and let my white flame brighten. My crystal warmed against my skin and a cool calmness ran down my shoulders.
General Hyton would not take me without a fight.
The crowd hissed. I opened my eyes just as Hyton guards dragged a hooded prisoner up the scaffold steps.
I let out a relieved breath. No blade would kiss my neck.
But then General Hyton tore off the prisoner’s hood and my heart stopped.
It was Brandt.
Brandt’s round face was white and his eyes were the size of saucers as he faced the vicious crowd.
What had he told the General? Maybe I could stop this.
I shifted my weight forward but Amethyst kept her hand on my shoulder.
“Stay still,” she whispered. “Everything we do affects how they see him.”
I frowned. Regardless of the delicacies of the ritual, I still had to try to save Brandt.
I called out to the magic in the air, fanning out my power as much as I could.
“This man used his knowledge from our military academy to form his own militia in Bloodstone!” General Hyton boomed. “He snuck into the palace using a noble woman as his cover. He was found consorting with a raven, bringing Death into our walls!”
A raven—Erik. General Hyton had found Erik.
But the General said militia, not army. Brandt had kept some of the truth back.
As my magic searched for an opening, the crowd jeered.
“Northern filth!”
“Traitor!”
“Kill him!”
The magic swept around the scaffold, but none of the soldiers opened up. The light did not shine behind Brietta’s veil. Derrick was all iron as he gripped his ancestor’s spear.
Finally, my eyes met Brandt’s watering ones.
“He used the raven to send secret communications to his conspirator!” the General shouted.
My lip trembled as my mouth fell open. General Hyton found my message to him, maybe even the one I penned to Evereon.
Brandt was captured because of me. Riyan had trusted me to protect the North, protect Bloodstone Fortress and its soldiers…and I failed.
Because of my carelessness, I failed them all.
“But he refused to reveal the other traitor!”
I choked on a sob as the corner of Brandt’s mouth flicked up. He had still protected me.
Tears stung my eyes, but suddenly the white pinhole of light appeared between Brandt’s brows and the bouncing tune of a flute echoed in the back of my mind. I desperately threw out the invisible tether and sent a message into Brandt’s head:
“ I can get you out of this. I am going to try everything I can. ”
Brandt took a shallow breath and shook his head once, only enough for me to see.
I bit my tongue so I would not cry. Brandt had called me the North’s last hope. He would rather die rather than risk exposing me as a sorceress.
General Hyton gestured to Derrick. “Will you, the spirit of the Conqueror, defend this land? Will you protect its people?”
I nearly dropped the hold over my magic when the realization hit me—General Hyton was not supposed to kill Brandt. Derrick was.
My chest rattled with a sob, but still a spot of warmth from the crystal kept me still. I wrapped my magic around that warmth and sent it into Brandt’s mind— carrying a memory of a young man and his fellow soldiers playing music beneath torchlight as Riyan danced with the woman he loved.
I sent a command as tears distorted my vision: “ Listen to the music until the end. ”
Brandt blinked slowly, accepting the command.
Then that sweet memory of Riyan sent a different tune to my mind—it was lower and slower, but it was calming me too.
The magical tether broke as the soldiers forced Brandt to face Derrick.
Derrick’s arm trembled.
Sapphira leapt forward. “Kill him! Defend our House!”
Rubia, Pearl, and Emeralda followed, growing more vicious with every heartbeat as they shouted up at the scaffold.
Brandt’s lip quivered only once before he spoke, his words cold steel. “I die for the North.”
The voices of the crowd rose like a tidal wave behind us.
“The giants missed one!”
“Kill the snow-eater!”
“Feed his corpse to the ravens!”
Tears wet my lashes. Derrick was no killer, he would ask General Hyton to do it. A quick death from Traitor’s Bane would be the mercy Derrick would give.
“Just close your eyes,” Amethyst whispered. “We all did when we were girls.”
But my eyes stayed on Brandt. I could not abandon him in his last moments.
“ Vincere aut mori, ” General Hyton shouted. “Conquer or die!”
Then Derrick plunged his spear into Brandt’s chest.
My hand flew to my mouth as I held back a scream. Brandt let out a pained cry. The tip of the Conqueror’s spear was crimson and gleaming in the morning sun as it stuck out of Brandt’s back.
Derrick’s whole body shook but his brow was hard. With a hiss through his teeth, he pulled out the spear and Brandt’s body hung limply between the arms of the soldiers as his blood cascaded onto the scaffold.
I held my breath as the soldiers let go of Brandt’s arms. Before his body could crumple forward, Traitor’s Bane sliced through the air and severed his neck in a single cut.
General Hyton gripped Brandt’s blonde hair and held his head up to the crowd. “Hail Alastar XII!”
I used all my will to not vomit. In the corner of my vision, Baron Elvar placed the Lycaster crown on Derrick’s head.
My hand pressed against my mouth so hard I nearly cut my lips on my teeth, but still the mysterious calming song played in the back of my mind.
General Hyton stuck Brandt’s head on the tip of the Conqueror’s spear as the crowd echoed, “Hail Alastar XII!”
Derrick stood in front of his throne as blood from Brandt’s neck dripped down the spear onto his arm. He did not look at me, nor his sisters, nor Brietta—his blank eyes were bolted forward over the heads of the crowd.
Fraleigh dropped to her knees on the scaffold, just barely avoiding the trail of fresh blood, and bowed deeply in reverence to her new owner.
The crowd erupted into cheers. Soldiers appeared next to Derrick to remove the spear, but he would not release his grip.
After a few tugs and soldiers whispering in his ear, Derrick slowly uncurled his red-stained fist.
The entire right side of my body shook as Annalisa clutched my hand and silently sobbed.
“He is supposed to remove the Duchess’s veil with his clean hand,” Amethyst hissed. “The bloodshed is over. The people need to see their new Duchess. Why is he not moving?”
My heart pounded in my throat as I looked from Derrick to Brietta. Brietta’s hands slowly pushed the veil up to reveal her rosy face and the crowd gasped.
Brietta pushed her shoulders back and dropped the veil on the scaffold, blood consuming the crumpling white gossamer.
General Hyton pushed down on Derrick’s shoulder to get his knees to buckle and Derrick finally sat on the throne of Lycaster. Brietta gracefully followed suit.
The crowd was adoring, but Annalisa kept sobbing. “He is gone…he is gone…”
Derrick was gone—only Alastar XII remained.
I wrapped my arms around Annalisa and buried my face in her curls. I gritted my teeth and choked down a sob.
No matter what I had to do, I would force Alastar XII to release Fraleigh’s collar. Not just for Fraleigh, or Brietta, or Riyan, or Freya’s memory, or the women of Lycaster…but for Brandt.
No more blood would spill because of my failure.
Tears rolled onto my cheeks as the song in the back of my mind got louder, its low notes weaving themselves into words:
“Still with me somehow.”