The Ivory Knight

Chapter 27

Her scream sounded shrill, even to her.

Bile rose in Adeleina's throat as she stumbled back. The queen's face had nearly been crushed beyond identification. Her face, once hawkish and cruel, had been reduced to a ruined mess of bone and blood. Nevertheless, the tattered clothing was unmistakably the gown the queen had been wearing that morning. The gleaming jewels that had scattered away from the body seemed an odd contrast to stained cobblestone of the courtyard.

Adeleina threw up.

"By the gods," a clear, cold voice said. "Damien did a terrible job of this."

Adeleina spat and glanced back up. Another girl, tall and proud, was kicking over the dead queen's body with a disdainful look on her face. Damien's sister.

Adeleina felt her jaw slacken.

"I suppose he was clever about making it look like an accident," the princess mused. "Though the poor servants are going to have a hell of a time scrubbing away the blood."

"I— er— right, my lady," Adeleina agreed tentatively. "I suppose they will."

The princess shot her a sharp look. "You're that Corandellish girl," she said bluntly.

"Er...yes."

"I don't suppose you know where my daft little brother is?"

"No, my lady."

The princess wrinkled her nose, turning away from the ruined body of her dead mother as if it were merely a sack of spilled turnips she couldn't be bothered with. 

"Well, you should get back to the castle," she told Adeleina. "You wouldn't want to make this look like your fault, would you?" She smiled coldly at Adeleina. 

"No," Adeleina agreed in a small voice, afraid that if she lingered any longer she'd be sick again. She backed away slowly, snapping her eyes from the corpse.

The courtyard was deathly still. Adeleina found that odd; mere moments ago, it had been nothing short of a stampede. Now, she was alone— alone, that is, but for the carcass of the dowager queen.

A figure stood at the other end of the courtyard under the yawning archway that led to the interior of the castle. It was cloaked in scarlet and imperious gold. A Dale guard, most likely, though what he was doing outside Adeleina had no idea. He seemed to catch glance of Adeleina standing alone in the courtyard, regarding for a split second before beckoning her over with a jerk of his head. Adeleina numbly shuffled towards him, desperate to do anything but keep the flies and crows company.

"His Highness is looking for you," the guard said to her. "Come with me."

She complied, trailing after him silently under the shadow of the archway and into a smaller courtyard. From there, they swept through a corridor and up a set of stairs, only to pass through several more doors before the guard began to slow his pace. The part of Adeleina that wasn't sick or reeling with shock marveled once more at the sheer size of Dale's castle. How many centuries had this fortress taken to build? How many slaves had spent entire lifetimes pounding on these stone walls and carving these spiraling stairways? How many royal families had risen and fallen in the years of its creation?

The guard knocked sharply on an unpretentious wooden door. From behind it came a series of muffled thumps and bangs, before footsteps clicked and the door swung open.

"You found her," Damien sighed with relief, pushing a stray lock of ruffled hair out of his eyes. "Thank the gods."

"I'll leave her to you, then," the guard said. "Your Highness." He bowed stiffly and disappeared down the corridor.

"You're alright?" Damien asked Adeleina, stepping aside to let her into the room.

"I suppose you already know your mother is dead," Adeleina replied, stepping into the room.

"Already know?" A familiar voice chuckled roughly. "He killed her himself." Rowan pushed back his chair and stood up, letting the humble wood scraped across the stone.

Adeleina raised her eyebrows at Damien. "Is that true?" she asked weakly. The room spun.

Damien shot Rowan a poisonous glance. "I didn't really. That was part of the plan, though," he admitted. "Good riddance, I say."

"By the gods' eyes, you're right on that," Rowan agreed wholeheartedly. He shoved a glass of liquid into Adeleina's trembling hands. "Drink that, princess, or you'll collapse and be no use to us."

Adeleina swallowed, letting the harsh drink stream down her throat. It burnt her tongue and brought stinging tears to her eyes before settling hotly in her stomach.

"What was that?" she coughed, wiping her eyes.

"Mead, of course." Rowan sat down and poured himself a glass cheerfully. "None of your royal vintage wine, princess. That's real mead, straight from the barn."

"Hush," Damien said distractedly. "Adeleina, sit down. We have to talk." He flipped open a book, thumbing through the pages carefully.

"Can't you explain what happened in the courtyard?" Adeleina snapped back, feeling the warmth of the mead starting to restore her temper. "And what is he doing in here?"

"Excuse me?" Rowan spat indignantly.

"Hush. Rowan is here because..." Damien trailed off, pausing his page flipping to glance up.

"Because I'm wicked and clever," Rowan supplied. He kicked up his heels and rested them on the table. "And irresistably charismatic to boot." He wiggled his brows lasciviously at Adeleina.

"You're filth," Adeleina spat indignantly, feeling the heat of embarrassment tinging her cheeks at his impudence. "Get him out," she begged Damien.

"I can't," Damien said reluctantly. "He's supposed to be dead, you know."

"No, I don't," Adeleina shot back. "Because no one is telling me anything."

Damien shared a glance with Rowan, which only made Adeleina angrier. Since when had the two become so friendly?

"Well," Damien began slowly. "I suppose you should know that Alecsander of Seva has officially declared himself King of Corandell. Rumors abroad say that he's locked himself in the castle. Dale runners I sent came back empty-handed of information. Gods alone know what he's doing in there," he said, a bitter look twisting his face.

"An official coup, then," Adeleina said, her acid thoughts matching Damien's expression.

"A coup it is." Damien slapped his hand on the book he was holding, having evidently found his page. "That's why we're making plans to prepare for war."

Adeleina's jaw fell. "You want to wage war on Corandell?"

"On Alecsander," Damien corrected gravely. He looked her in the eye. "We march in a month."