Secrets of the Crown Assassins

28

ARIELLE

I swore myself for the hundredth time as I walked through the palace halls.

Why had I exploded during my conversation with my father? Why did I even ask him anything? I already knew the answer. And more importantly, why did the answer hurt so much?

Edsel raised Phoenix to be his heir, his favorite daughter. Not me. I'm the second option, the girl with no skills besides a quick temper which is more of a hindrance than anything. I wasn't smart like Xavier. I wasn't charming like Damien. I couldn't command power like Phoenix. I'm just a little girl who used to hide in the shadows and wishes to hide still.

But I couldn't help the small nagging in the back of my mind, the one asking "What if?" What if I claimed the Crown just to spite him? What if I was actually good at it? What if I was better than anything Phoenix could hope to be?

And risk the reputation of the entire Fortier line for childish dreams?  Don't be foolish.

I clenched my fists. The only option for me was to convince Phoenix to claim the crown, no matter what. Erilia's funeral was over, which meant I wasn't tainting her name by breaking my promise to not attempt to persuade Phoenix. I was free to do whatever I pleased, but I would have to take a page from the Kingston's book and do things quietly so Phoenix wouldn't run away immediately.

After seeing her reaction to small displays of Assassin power, it was clear that the only option was to remind her of what it's like to be a Crown. If even that didn't work, there would be nothing else left besides threatening Tressa's life or persuading Xavier to blackmail her, but I wanted her as a willing participant. How was she supposed to properly rule a country if she didn't want the title?

Which was why I sent a servant to get her after I messaged Xavier and Damien to meet me at our meeting place—outside the locked throne room of the combined Crown. I had Alistair sort the information Xavier and Damien gathered. He managed to pull up schematics of the building the Raven bomber was hiding out in and organize a possible entry point, though I was sure Xavier would change it.

I didn't have the approval of the Crowns, but I was in no mood to speak to my father. The three of us would claw out the people who killed Aunt Erilia and sent my mother into a coma, and we would do it without fear or hesitation.

And Phoenix would be with us every step of the way, reveling in the long-lost power which finally quenched her undeniable thirst.

I turned the corner and my mouth fell open.

At the end of the hall, the combined throne room doors were swung wide open the lock sitting on the floor, useless. Phoenix stood inside, red hair bright against the dark surroundings, looking up at the singular throne.

The throne had never been opened ever since it was built and no one was able to break in, not even Damien and Xavier. Even when I was younger, I attempted to climb in through the high windows, only to realize they were strongly blocked. And now, nearly two hundred years later, Phoenix broke into the room in under ten minutes.

Taking tentative steps, I entered the vast throne room. It was the same size as the main throne room, but all of it was only dedicated to one person, one Crown. The throne sat against the farthest wall on a large platform, with its golden base and dark blue leather. The wall behind it adorned the Fortier's and Kingston's combined symbol—a golden triangle centered around a hexagon.

In the center of the room sat a large, square pit that must've extended hundreds of feet. I approached it and looked down, knowing what lay beneath according to the stories. Sure enough, at the bottom sat the combined crown, safely tucked into a glass box. It was hard to see the design from this far, but I caught glimpses of blue gems and golden spires.