The rejected crown (book 1)

Love over fear

Jane

Right after the witch's execution....

Jane's world felt hollow as she was dragged back to the dungeons, the cold stone walls pressing in around her. The murmurs and shouts of the crowd echoed faintly, replaced by the metallic clank of her chains and the heavy footsteps of the guards. Her wrists ached from the iron cuffs, her body trembling from the raw aftermath of what she had just witnessed. Her mother's final words replayed over and over in her mind, filling her with a bittersweet warmth and unbearable sorrow.

"Love is stronger than fear."

She wanted to hold onto those words, but her heart was cracking, weighed down by grief and fury. The image of her mother engulfed by flames seared itself into her memory, a horror she would never be able to unsee. Her chest felt hollow, her breaths shallow and ragged as though the fire had stolen all the air from her lungs. How could she hold onto love in a world this cruel?

The guards said nothing, their faces unreadable as they led her through the twisting halls of the dungeons. Eventually, they stopped in front of a cell, unlocking the iron door before roughly pushing her inside. Jane stumbled, catching herself before she fell to her knees. The door clanged shut behind her, the finality of it like a hammer blow. She was alone.

Jane sank to the cold, damp floor, curling into herself. The darkness of the cell was suffocating, yet it mirrored the darkness inside her. Her mind reeled, her thoughts spiraling as her heart fractured into pieces.

How could they do this? How could the people she'd grown up alongside, the villagers she'd once trusted, turn on her mother so easily? One word—"witch"—was all it had taken. Her mother, who had healed their wounds, nursed their sick, and tended to the weak, now burned by the very people she had loved.

Her hands shook as she covered her face, muffling her sobs. She had tried to fight, had tried to reach her mother, but the guards had held her back, ignoring her pleas. Every scream, every struggle had been in vain. And Giovanna—though she'd tried to stop it, she, too, had been powerless against Richard's cruelty.

The image of her mother's calm face, the fierce love in her eyes as she'd told Jane to be strong, flickered in her mind. But Jane didn't feel strong. She felt empty, as though the flames had scorched her soul, leaving her hollow and burned out.

For hours, or perhaps only minutes—time was meaningless now—she lay on the floor, consumed by grief. Eventually, the flood of sorrow was replaced by a simmering rage, a hatred that burned with a slow, venomous fire. Richard. This was his doing. He had manipulated the people, twisted their fear into a weapon, and struck down anyone who stood in his way. He had taken everything from her. And he had used her mother's life as a demonstration of his power.

Jane sat up, wiping her tear-streaked face with trembling hands. She didn't know how, or when, but she would make him pay. She would make them all pay—the villagers who had cheered, the guards who had held her back, and most of all, Richard. They would feel the weight of her pain, even if it was the last thing she did.

As Jane sat in the darkness of her cell, drowning in sorrow and rage, she heard the faint scrape of footsteps approaching. At first, she thought it was just another guard, another faceless warden coming to check on the prisoners. But as the footsteps grew closer, she sensed something different, a weight, a familiar presence.

The guard unlocked the door and, after a moment's hesitation, allowed the visitor to step inside. Jane's heart leapt when she saw him: her father. He looked gaunt, his face drawn and hollow, shoulders slumped beneath the weight of everything that had happened. His clothes were worn and stained from the endless labor he'd been forced into since their family name had been blackened by accusations of witchcraft. Once a proud man who had lived and worked for his family, he now looked like a ghost of the person he'd been.

"Father..." she whispered, her voice breaking. She wanted to run to him, to hold him, but the chains held her back. All she could do was watch him as he approached, his face a mixture of sorrow and quiet despair.

He knelt down beside her, reaching out to gently touch her cheek, his fingers trembling. "Jane," he said softly, voice thick with grief. "My Jane."

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence between them heavy with unspoken pain. Her father's eyes were red-rimmed, but dry, as if he had no more tears left to shed. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, seeming unable to find the words. Instead, he just shook his head, his hand dropping away from her face as if the weight of it was too much to bear.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I... I couldn't save her. I tried, Jane. I tried to stand up for her, but..." He trailed off, his gaze falling to the stone floor.

Jane reached for his hand, holding onto it as tightly as she could with her chained wrists. "It wasn't your fault, father. None of this is your fault. This was Richard. This was his doing."

Her father looked at her, his expression one of deep, haunting guilt. "They've taken everything from us, Jane. Our name, our home... everything." His voice was hollow, broken. "I wanted to protect you both. But now... I've failed."

"No," Jane whispered fiercely, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "You didn't fail. Richard did this to us. And we're going to make him pay. For Mother. For everything."

He nodded, but the spark of hope she was trying to ignite in him didn't seem to catch. His eyes were distant, as if he were already somewhere else, weighed down by the crushing reality of their situation. "They'll never let us go, Jane," he murmured. "They've marked us all. I'm... I'm just another man now, a laborer for their fields and mines. They say I'm lucky they haven't taken my life too."

Jane's heart clenched at his words, but she refused to give in to despair. She squeezed his hand, her voice fierce. "We will find a way, father. I promise you."

The guard coughed, stepping into the cell. "Time's up," he said gruffly, gripping her father by the arm.

Her father's face twisted, as though he wanted to resist, to stay, but he didn't fight as they began to drag him away. He looked back at her, his expression filled with a mixture of sorrow and pride.

"Stay strong, Jane," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Remember what your mother said... Love is stronger than fear."

And then he was gone, the cell door clanging shut behind him, leaving Jane alone once more in the silence and darkness.

But this time, she wasn't alone in spirit. Her father's words, her mother's final message—both echoed in her mind, rekindling a flicker of strength within her. They had tried to break her family, but as long as she held onto their memory, their love, they could never truly win. She would fight, and she would make them pay. She had nothing left to lose, but everything to avenge.