Page 4 of The Stolen Throne
Her eyes widen. “Do you think he will kill us?”
I set the notebooks aside and grip her hands in mine. My voice is determined as I reply, “I will protect you all as best I can.”
She gives me a soft smile. “I believe that is something we should be saying to you, Princess.”
I shake my head. “It is my duty as princess to protect all my subjects. No matter their station.”
Her grip on my hands tightens. “Then we shall protect each other.” She gives my hands another squeeze before releasing them. “Well, I suppose we should get this mess cleaned up.”
I take another look around the room and groan. “I did not realize how many I had thrown. So many loose papers to pick up as well.”
She chuckles as she stands and holds a hand out for me. “It will be quite the distraction until morning comes. You will have to sort what papers go to which notebook.”
I roll my eyes but smile as I take her hand. “Then it will be a welcome distraction. That man is the last person I wish to think about this eve.”
Pulling me to my feet, she mirrors my smile. “Then I shall supervise. That way it will take longer.”
I laugh, shaking my head, as I move around the room, picking them all up. “You can pick out my dress for the wedding, if you wish.”
She claps her hands in delight, then rushes off to my closet. “I will make sure you do not upstage the queen.”
Chuckling, I continue the long task of gathering my things. Even if my mother marries that man, it does not mean I have to stop fighting. I will do everything I can to ensure my kingdom does not fall like all the rest.
3
What a strange wedding day… I am seated in the front row, unable to comprehend the sight of my mother standing alongside my greatest fear. The nave of the church is dressed in reflections, ornate mirrors and polished silver decorating the space…
The nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach does not fade as my mother stares into the eyes of the king who has killed so many. No, it seems to grow worse with each word she utters.
“I promise my heart to you, King Balor?—”
Does she not see the darkness surrounding the king? The smell of rot and decay seeping from his pores. He smells like death, but it seems that I am the only one who feels uneasy. No one else appears to see the gleam in his eyes as my mother hands him the keys to the kingdom before their vows draw to an end.
That gleam frightens me even more when he turns his gaze from my mother to look straight at me. This is the first time I’ve seen Balor, the King of Wylan, an utter brute of a man who looks like a bear squeezed into fine silk, in person. But his eyes look wrong, they hold no color except a metallic gray. They look like mirrors…
I tear my eyes away, stopping on one of the many mirrors that line the walls as decoration. Balor must have forced my mother to have them put up because she usually has better taste. I look at myself in the mirror and shiver because, for just a second, I see my reflection mouthing something I cannot hear yet somehow understand. She is telling me to run.
The moment the officiant pronounces them husband and wife, the world explodes. Fearful gasps pull my gaze from the many mirrors, only for me to wish I had listened when she told me to run. I stand frozen as I watch the new King of Arcelia plunge a dagger into my mother’s throat.
Chaos erupts around me, but my eyes are locked on my mother as she lets out a soundless scream. Their lips are still touching as blood pours from my mother's throat. I see the dagger, curved and wicked, ripping through my mother’s soft skin.
Her white gown quickly turns crimson as he nearly cuts off her head. The way he flourishes the dagger sends a spray of blood into the priest’s face just before the point is driven into his eye. The priest and my mother fall into a heap on the ground.
The world seems to slow down around me as I stand frozen; the only thing I can hear is a ringing in my ears. Hands land on my shoulders and forcefully turn me away from the horrific scene. Charlotte stands in front of me, wide eyed and screaming, but it takes what feels like forever to hear what she is saying.
“Run, Princess!”
I’m shocked out of my daze by the deafening screams around me. I look around, my eyes widening as I watch the mirrors all over the room shatter, turning into swirling portals of shimmering glass. Wylan soldiers begin pouring through, cutting down any who try to resist. But that isn’t what catches me so off guard. It’s the fact that every single soldier looks identical: dull gray skin, emotionless faces, and eyes like balls of glass.
Through my shock, I feel Charlotte dragging me toward the doors. Roaring laughter jerks my gaze back to the new king, and I see mother's blood dripping down his face, his blade held high above him.
“Arcelia falls tonight!” His gaze finds me in the chaos, and his smile turns sinister before he shouts, “Worship me!”
The room erupts with replies of, “All hail our God, King Balor!”
I take in the room around me and realize the only people who reply are the king’s undead soldiers. Blood covers the wooden floors as my eyes meet the king’s once more. He steps down from the altar and yells, “You cannot run from a God.” Someone screams beside me, followed by the sound of more glass breaking. Looking over, I find Charlotte in Balor's grasp, his blade having pierced her chest.
“Charlotte!” I scream as her hand slips from mine, and she drops to the ground. Balor's tongue, still covered in my mother's blood, licks Charlotte's ear before he lets her fall.