Chapter Sixty-Two Blodwyn #3
“If she is a witch, then so are the rest of you.”
This time, it’s Ayleth who speaks. She stands at the base of the dais, the court giving her a healthy distance.
“You,” Lord Warbeck sneers. “You should be arrested. Guards!”
Men start to tromp forward, but I hold up a hand. “Leave her.”
They obey. Probably because they’re worried I’ll flatten them with my power otherwise.
They needn’t be. That force shivers inside me again, but I still have no clue what to do with it, or even how I used it with Aunt Margaret.
The guards don’t need to know that, though.
I stand taller and fix them with a menacing glare. They shrink farther back.
“Go on,” I say to Ayleth. “What did you mean?”
Because I would very much like to know myself.
“The princess’s power was gifted by an Ancient,” Ayleth continues.
“One who chose Blodwyn because the princess understands that in order to heal this realm, we must come together. And that’s exactly what we did tonight.
Mortals, witches, and Dwarves put aside our differences and bound our magic for the first time in Riven’s history.
That is the source of the princess’s abilities.
And that is why she is queen. The true queen. ”
My throat tightens at hearing her say those words. Knowing what it means for her to give up her place—for me. The same way my own mother did.
“I don’t know what kind of sorcery this is,” Lord Warbeck continues, “but it ends here. Riven is a realm that relies on law. And the law states that a new ruler cannot be crowned until the trials are complete. There’s still another challenge remaining and—”
“I withdraw!”
Gasps ricochet through the chamber. My own jaw drops, watching as Gavin cuts his way through the audience. Lord Warbeck looks like he might explode.
“What are you doing, boy? This—”
“Is what I should have done a long time ago,” Gavin says.
“As far as I’m concerned, this is the final trial.
That of justice. And the princess has more than proven herself the victor of that challenge tonight.
She used her power to save her aunt, even after the duchess schemed against her for the throne. ”
Aunt Margaret shifts on her feet.
“And even with her father’s swords pointed at her,” Gavin continues. “she still offered him mercy. Would he have done the same for any of you?”
The court trades uncertain glances, no doubt recalling that—just hours ago—Papa vowed to put their hearts into mirrors.
“And, most surprising,” Gavin adds, his gaze fixed on mine, “the princess forgave me, a complete imbecile, who should have recognized her for what she is the moment we met: fair and kind and true. A far better ruler than I ever could be.”
My heart beats harder as Gavin approaches the dais and kneels. He holds his sword flat in both hands and lifts it.
“I pledge my loyalty to you, Queen Blodwyn,” he says, the flecks of gold in his eyes standing out as he looks up at me. “From this day until my last, I will follow you anywhere.”
And this time, I know he’s telling the truth.
A piece clicks into place inside me, one I didn’t fully realize was missing until I feel it settle.
I’m still not certain exactly what it is—friendship, or something deeper.
But I know in my bones that I have finally found my home. My family. That I belong.
“Long live Queen Blodwyn!” someone else shouts.
It’s Verity. She glances at Gavin and then back to me, waggling her eyebrows and mouthing: I told you.
A smile twitches at the corners of my lips. Still…Queen Blodwyn. That name feels awkward and foreign, but I tell myself to stand taller. To be the person Mother would want me to be. Fulfill the promise she made. The promise I made. That place on my palm prickles.
“I accept your service,” I say, my attention traveling the crowd.
“Along with that of all who will join me. I cannot pretend to know what the future holds, though I’m certain there will be a fair amount of difficulty.
But I can promise you this: I will not be the ruler my father was, or the White Kings before him.
The throne is not only mine—but ours. Together, we can create a new Riven.
A home for everyone. As it should have been all along. ”
Silence follows and I’m sure that they’ll reject me. That all this will have been for nothing. But then—
“Aye!” Roland knocks the end of his spear on the floor. “The Dwarves stand with the queen!”
He motions to the others and they nod their assent, raising their weapons in salute.
“Long live Queen Blodwyn!” Another cheer goes up.
The palace guards bang their fists on their shields.
Dwarves toss their hats in the air. The witches conjure sparks in celebration.
My attention lands on one in particular—Ayleth.
I recall the moment in the courtyard when I made my announcement to begin the trials.
The fear and suspicion and even hatred in her eyes.
This time, all I see in their glimmering depths is pride.