Page 23 of Crown of the Courtesan

Awkward and ever a stickler for royal etiquette, Briggs argues, “We should honor the king’s wishes; he was our lord and liege, and his will be done. This girl is his legal daughter and heir by all blood rights.”

The High Lords remain silent, watching our exchange.

Breaking the silence, Briggs drops to one knee and places his fist over his heart. “Power reigns to the Queen.” The other men look around uncomfortably, their brows furrowing and feet shuffling. Briggs, appearing determined, repeats, “Power reigns to the Queen.”

“Power reigns to the Queen,” Balor echoes—something switching in his demeanor.

The others half-heartedly mumble the same, but General Metalla does not move his lips. He does not speak the words. Loudly, he declares, “This girl is no queen—not until coronation.” He sweeps a wrathful gaze over the council, making some of the High Lords stumble over their pledges before he exits.

I sway on my feet. Briggs catches my arms, lifting me by the elbows. “She’s exhausted.”

“Rightfully so,” Balor says. “Give her to me. I’ll take her to the… monarch’s chambers.”

“I dare you to try,” Captain Wellcrest growls as he steps out of the shadows, watching the entire time… waiting. His long braids fall across his catlike eyes as he strides over and swoops me into his arms like I weigh nothing. I don’t fight it. His armored chest is the first bit of comfort I’ve had during this nightmare.

“I suppose we should call you Queensguard now,” Briggs boasts, slapping him on the shoulder.

Balor heads toward the door. “I’ll fetch a healer for her injuries.” His attention narrows on me before he flees the turret.

The remaining High Lords burst into conversation once more.

“We must prepare for the funeral pyre.”

“Increase our guards at the border. When the Witch-King learns of this, he’ll see it as a weakness.”

“Somebody find Wella!”

But I hear nothing else as I’m carried far, far away.

* * *

Captain Wellcrest places me on my feet outside a set of double doors decorated with silver and iron ivy wrapped around the perimeter of the doorframe. Light from the wall sconces illuminates his concerned face as he gently informs me, “I do not enter the monarch’s chambers unless directly asked.”

I incline my head. “Thank you for your kindness. I am sorry… about the king.” An awkward moment passes. “Were you two close?”

A curt nod in return. “I wanted to come to you when you fell from the tower—but the king needed me in those final moments.” Sorrow etches into the warrior’s face.

I don’t know how to respond, and I’m terrible at comforting people, so I say nothing.

A commotion rings out at the end of the darkened corridor. A clattering of armor and voices rises in argument. Wellcrest pulls his sword, which shimmers in the dim light. His lips curl upward. “Your chamber doors are magic-fortified. No one can gain access once they’re locked.”

Pandemonium rings out from the looming darkness of the hallway. Screaming echoes off the stone walls. Gooseflesh rises along my hairline.

“Help them. I’ll be okay,” I urge, wanting the horrible noises to stop.

“I need to alert the Queensguard to ready their stations. Whatever you do, please remember to lock your door and wait for your sentry and maids. If you need me, let them know.” Wellcrest unlocks the latch, and a loud thud scrapes against the door, but he stops before opening it. He whispers a final warning: “There are dark powers at play. Before they crown you, trust no one.”

My stomach churns.

The door swings open to reveal the royal suite of chambers in all its decadent glory. Richly made furniture sprawls out in its murky depths.

When I turn to thank him, the captain is already gone, but that’s fine by me because I can only concentrate on one thing.

Bed.

I need to sleep before I can do anything.

A draft of cool air snakes along my body. The fireplace burns low, and I’m not surprised to find Balor sits in the wingback chair before it. He doesn’t even bother to stoke the dying embers.