The rejected crown (book 1)

Beneath the Weight of Judgment

edweyn and giovanna

Edweyn leaned against the polished stone wall of the castle corridor, arms crossed casually over his chest, though a tense energy simmered beneath his calm facade. Beside him, Giovanna moved with a regal purpose, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the corridor with wary scrutiny.

"Well, now that I've managed to silence William, there's one less thing to worry about," Giovanna murmured, her voice quiet but laced with satisfaction.

Edweyn raised an eyebrow, though his tone remained light as he replied, "Speaking of trouble, have you heard the latest gossip about the witch trial?"

"Naturally," Giovanna replied, dismissively. "But I couldn't care less about a witch and her mother. They broke the law; that's all that matters." A glint of cold satisfaction flickered in her eyes.

Edweyn shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "You know, I actually knew one of them—Jane. We were friends as kids. It's strange seeing her in chains now, but I suppose that's what happens when you make dangerous choices."

Giovanna's gaze turned mocking, her smirk widening. "Friends with a witch? How charmingly naive. I'd have thought even you would know better by now, Edweyn."

He chuckled dryly, though there was no humor in it. "We were children, Giovanna. Back then, it was just... dreams and games. We didn't understand magic, nor the danger it would bring."

"Dreams and games," she repeated, her voice tinged with scorn. "How foolish. Those 'dreams' have led her to this, and if you had any sense, you'd stop clinging to your childhood fantasies. The law exists for a reason."

Edweyn met her gaze, unflinching. "Is that what you truly believe? That the law has no room for mercy? What if they were wrongfully accused?"

Giovanna huffed, a sharp smile curling her lips. "If they were truly innocent, they wouldn't be here, would they? It's a waste of time to pity them when we have a trial to oversee. Spare me your sentimental memories."

His gaze softened as he watched her, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "It's easy to forget that people aren't just their choices. They have stories, Giovanna. Jane was just a girl trying to survive."

"Survive?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "And what of the lives she's upended with her so-called survival? Witches like her deserve no sympathy. This is the real world, Edweyn. Spare me your nostalgia."

With a frustrated sigh, he turned his gaze away, feeling the weight of her coldness. "Maybe so, but I refuse to see someone I once cared for burned at the stake without question. You may follow the rules to the letter, but I'd like to think there's more to leadership than strict adherence to law."

Giovanna shrugged, her indifference palpable. "Leaders make hard choices, Edweyn. It's not about sentiment; it's about order. Remember that when you watch the trial tomorrow."

As she strode away, Edweyn felt the sting of her words settle in. In that moment, he realized how deeply divided their worlds had become, each tethered to a different truth, and how those truths would collide with devastating consequences.

Edweyn took a deep breath, fighting against the swell of frustration and desperation rising within him. He pushed off the stone wall and hurried to catch up with Giovanna, who strode purposefully down the corridor, her regal demeanor unyielding.

"Giovanna, wait," he called, urgency lacing his voice. She paused, her back to him, and he could almost feel the tension radiating from her. "Please, listen to me."

She spoke slowly, her back still to him. "What more is there to discuss, Edweyn? The trial will proceed as planned. You know as well as I do that the people demand justice."

"Justice?" he echoed incredulously, taking a step closer. "Is this truly justice? To burn two women at the stake without considering their circumstances? I implore you to help me intervene. We can't just stand by and let this happen!"

Giovanna turned slowly, her eyes cold and unforgiving. "Intervene? And what, Edweyn? Let every weak-minded fool think they can defy the crown without consequence? No, I won't tarnish my rule with sentimentality."

"Leadership is about doing what's right, not just what's easy," he argued, his voice tight with frustration. "Jane and her mother—they're not monsters. They're victims of fear and superstition. You could show mercy, show the people there's a better way."

She sneered, crossing her arms defiantly. "Mercy is a luxury, one that weakens rulers. I am not a fool, Edweyn, and I won't let my compassion be mistaken for softness. My uncle taught me well—people respect strength, not kindness."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Edweyn's face as he stared at her. "Do you even care about them? Or is this just another move in your game against Richard?"

Her smile sharpened, dangerous and calculating. "And if it is? Richard is a threat to my rule, a snake lurking in my shadow, waiting for any sign of weakness. If showing mercy to a couple of witches makes me appear magnanimous, then I'll do it. But don't mistake that for softness."

He took a step closer, his expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "You'd only save them to make yourself look stronger?"

Her gaze was ice-cold, unyielding. "People want to see their leaders as strong, unbreakable. If sparing these witches makes them see me that way, then it serves my purpose. But don't delude yourself, Edweyn. I'm not doing it for them. I'm doing it for me."

His shoulders slumped, the weight of her words heavy on his heart. "And the people themselves? Do they mean anything to you beyond pawns in your game for power?"

Giovanna's eyes glittered with a hard, ruthless light. "The people are fickle, Edweyn. They'll believe whatever I tell them to believe, and they'll follow strength wherever it leads. If showing a touch of mercy here gives me their loyalty, then so be it. But don't expect me to care about anyone beyond myself."

He shook his head slowly, a bitter sadness in his voice. "Sometimes I wonder if you even know what true strength is."

She tilted her head, a predatory smile curving her lips. "Strength is knowing when to wield compassion as a weapon, Edweyn. Tomorrow, the people will see me as their merciful leader, the one who spared the witches—not because I cared, but because it made me untouchable. Let my uncle watch as I secure my throne with both power and cunning."

A silence fell between them, thick with tension and unspoken words. Finally, Edweyn sighed, his voice laced with resignation. "Very well, Giovanna. If this is what it takes, I'll stand by you. But I fear one day, you'll look around and find no one willing to follow."

She laughed, a sound as cold as winter. "People follow power, Edweyn. And I intend to give them exactly that."

Without another glance, she turned and strode away, her steps echoing down the empty corridor. Edweyn watched her go, a hollow ache settling in his chest as he realized how far apart they truely are