The True Queen- Book Two

Chapter Eighty-Two: Illyana

"Someone pass the Master Scholar a sword," I instruct. His face pales as a guard comes up to him, sword in hand. "You have nothing to fear, Scholar Jensen," I say calmly, my voice projecting around the hall. "If your word is true and, as you have stated, I don't have a claim to the throne, then fate will protect you, will it not?" I ask. He slumps to the side as he takes on the weight of the sword. He opens and closes his mouth, trying to speak by all that comes out are hoarse mutters. I raise a brow.

"I am offering you a chance to prove me wrong," I say, walking toward him slowly. "I am offering a chance for you to defend yourself, something that is not offered in the rules of the True Trial," I state.

"Your majesty, I am not a fighter," he says. 

"The Rules of the True Trial state that if both you and my father deny my throne, then I have a right to fight him for it. If you win, it means you were right. If you lose, it means you are corrupt and denying me what I have rightfully, lawfully won."

"Bbb..." he begins, stepping away from me. "Bbbut... the king."

"Oh," I say, "So you were hoping I would fight father first and that he would win and you would be spared execution."

Shakily, he holds the sword up, pointing it at me. 

"Should the Master Scholar also say no, then the Princess is to take the crown by force. Should she win, it will prove that both the Master Scholar and the King are corrupt and both should be executed by her hand," I say, quoting the exact rules of the True Trial Contract. "So here I am, taking the crown by force as is my right."

"And killing a defenceless man?" Sebastian asks behind her.

"Isn't that the whole point of an execution, grandfather?" I ask and turn to him. "And don't you dare talk to me about killing those who are defenceless when you ordered the death of my sister." There are gasps and I glare around the room. "As if you all didn't already know," I scoff then turn back to Sebastian. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" I ask, somehow keeping my voice cold and calm. I turn to Kristoff. "Did you enjoy chasing her through the corridors of this very castle?" I ask him. He pales. "Did you enjoy it as she ran and pleaded for her life? Did you enjoy it as you ran your blade across her neck? All whilst she had nowhere to run and no weapon to defend herself?" The hall is deathly silent and I glare at them. "How dare you lecture me about killing the defenceless," I snarl. "Especially you, Sebastian Baylon. Do you need to me say all the names of everyone you have locked in your dungeons and tortured? None of whom ever stood a chance of defending themselves. How about we start with Shaelyn, your own granddaughter? Did you give her a weapon to defend her when you had your men hold down her down whilst you sliced off her finger and her ear? And what about me?" I ask. "When I was only thirteen and you had my father chain me to the walls of the cells whilst he lashed me. Did I have a chance to defend myself then?" He laughs coldly.

"You have no evidence of that," he snarls. I laugh and look around the room.

"We all know your reputation," I tell him. "But shall I go into more detail? How about Tristain?" I ask. My father freezes beside me and Sebastian's jaw clenches. "Just a poor gardener who dared love the wrong person," I say through gritted teeth. "And what did you do to him?" I ask. "You chained him up and skinned him alive whilst he screamed and begged for his life." 

"I have no idea what you are talking about. These are clearly the ravings of a mad woman," he says calmly. I nod my head.

"Yes, it always comes back down to that, doesn't it. I must be mad," I sigh. "You and your council stand up here and you lie, torture, and murder and that doesn't make you mad. It makes you powerful. It makes you untouchable. The rules do not apply to you. But I and my sisters fight for our freedom, and along the way, we kill a few monsters in order to free slaves, and that makes us mad?" I ask. "Your tyrannical reign is over, Grandfather." I hear scuffling behind me. I whip around, my movement a blur. My sword smashes Master Jensen's away from its target, which had been my back. With another powerful swipe of my own sword, before he can even comprehend what is going on, his head is separated from his neck. There are shocked gasps as his body slumps and his head rolls down the steps.