One True Queen (School for Good and Evil Book 2)

Chapter 40

"The press is waiting for you, Your Highness," a voice said.

I turned to Kei, who stood at the door to my bedroom, the gold of his jacket specked with dried blood. He had a glum, tortured expression, as if haunted by a ghost.

"Pull yourself together," I said as we walked towards the ballroom. "You look as if you're half-dead."

"Rebels killed Rhian," Kei defended. "So forgive me if I'm grieving over my best friend."

"We mustn't become stuck on that," I said, ignoring the way my throat closed up. "The rebels will soon be taken care of."

A guard cut in front of us, scanty-haired and pockmarked. "Your Highness! The map inna Map Room's been burnt ta nothin'—one witha rebels' whereabouts!"

I stopped. "What?"

Kei flexed his jaw. "Could be one of the maids or cooks. I'll question them."

I turned to Kei. "You'd better hope you haven't let a rebel spy into my castle," I said lowly, glaring daggers. "For your sake."

Kei's expression went sour, as if offended I'd even suggested something. "Get back to your post," the captain said to the guard, escorting me past him.

Kei glanced at me out of the side of his eyes.

"Stop scowling," I ordered. "You're the captain of the guard, and my new liege. Act the part or I'll find someone who will."

Kei hardened to stone. "Yes, Your Highness."

"And clean your jacket while you're at it," I said, speeding ahead. "I don't want Snake blood in my castle."

***

"Your Highness, are you confident that all traitors have been rooted out from the kingdom?" asked a blue-haired reporter with a badge labeled The Pifflepaff Post.

"Of course," I replied, perched on an elevated throne beneath a massive Lion's head. "I am investing all of my resources in keeping Camelot and the Woods safe, as our king once did."

As the reporters packed into the Blue Ballroom clamored for the next question, I glanced at the two men hidden in shadows at the back, each in opposite corners of the room.

One with ice skin and frosty hair, with glacier blue eyes.

The other with a sun-kissed complexion and eyes of sea green.

Rhian had joined my visions of Rafal sometime in the last day or so. With Rafal, I was always comforted by his presence. He was my anchor, something to keep me steady. But each time I glanced at Rhian, guilt swallowed me whole.

A reporter's voice broke through the din—

"And what of the evidence that you have enlisted the Kingdom Council to reject the Storian's power?" said a man from the Netherwood Villain Digest. "Our reporting suggests that in the past week, 99 of the 100 founding kingdoms have destroyed their rings, with these leaders disavowing the Storian and pledging allegiance to you and the late king instead. Did you and the king believe in the legend of the One True King? Was he seeking to claim the Storian's powers for himself? Is that why kingdoms burned their rings for him?"

"It's obvious that the Pen has failed our Woods," I replied as reporters furiously transcribed. "The Storian is supposed to tell tales that inspire us and move our world forward. But these days, it fixates only on the students of a school that has become self-indulgent and obsolete. The Pen no longer represents the people. It's time for someone to rise in its place. A Queen. Someone who can give everyone a chance at glory." The words were effortless. "And please, no more questions about the late king. I wish him to rest peacefully."