The rejected crown (book 1)

Shadows of the past

edweyn

The dim glow of candlelight flickered against the walls of Princess Giovanna's private chamber, casting long shadows across the polished marble. She stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself, staring into the vast darkness beyond the castle. Her mind was troubled, thoughts swirling around William—her cousin, and the only person who knew the truth about her affair with Sir Edweyn. But now, after that fateful night, William lay in a coma, his life hanging by a thread.

Behind her, Sir Edweyn leaned against the doorframe, his jaw clenched and his expression tense. The air between them was thick with unspoken fears.

"We have to stay calm," Giovanna whispered, her voice a fragile thread barely holding her emotions together. "If anyone finds out what really happened that night..."

"I know." Edweyn's tone was steady, but his eyes betrayed the weight pressing on him. "Your uncle is already suspicious. If William wakes up and tells him—"

"If he wakes up," Giovanna cut in, her voice sharp with fear.

They fell silent, tension filling the space between them. Giovanna's uncle, prince Richard, had grown increasingly powerful in recent years, quietly maneuvering to secure his position in court. He had his eyes on the throne, and he would use any opportunity to consolidate his influence. If he found out about her affair, he would seize on the scandal to discredit her and ruin her standing.

"He won't rest until he knows the truth," Giovanna murmured. "And if he learns that you and I—" She didn't finish the sentence, dread tightening her throat.

Before they could say more, a guard entered, bowing quickly. "Your Highness, Ser Edweyn—apologies for the intrusion."

Edweyn straightened. "What is it?"

The guard hesitated, glancing at Giovanna. "Two witches were captured this week, a mother and daughter. They were found near the forest, and the villagers are calling for justice. They say the witches used magic to kill a soldier."

Edweyn rubbed his temple, tension knotting in his shoulders. "The last thing we need is a witch trial stirring up chaos."

Giovanna's mind raced. "What is my uncle planning to do about this?"

"The prince reagent hasn't made an official decision yet," the guard replied. "But rumors are spreading fast. He's been hinting at a public trial. The people are calling for fire."

Giovanna's stomach twisted. Her uncle was too cunning to ignore an opportunity like this. A witch trial could rally the people to his side, feeding their fear of magic and turning them against anyone who seemed to threaten their safety. If he held a public execution, it would show his strength and resolve—and cast Giovanna in the shadow of his power, making her claim to the throne weaker.

Edweyn shot her a warning glance. "If Richard sees a way to use this to bolster his image, he will."

Giovanna exhaled slowly, trying to keep her composure. "If he holds this trial, he'll come out as a hero in their eyes," she said bitterly. "The people love nothing more than the downfall of witches, and he knows it. Every time he executes a supposed threat, he only grows stronger, more adored." She looked to the guard. "Do you know anything else about these witches?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably. "The younger one tried to escape. They say she fought like a wild thing, but the iron shackles subdued her magic. She's locked in the same cell as her mother."

Edweyn cursed under his breath. "A witch trial is the last distraction we need."

Giovanna ran a hand through her hair, feeling the weight of her uncle's schemes pressing down on her. "A public trial would only add fuel to the fire. Richard would use it to build his influence and diminish mine." Her mind churned with possibilities; perhaps she could find a way to help these women and, in doing so, undermine her uncle's plans.