The rejected crown (book 1)

The verdict

Giovanna

The grand hall was thick with a tense, suffocating silence as the council reconvened the next day. The pale light of morning filtered through high windows, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor. Word had spread quickly: today, Princess Giovanna's fate would be decided. The once-noisy crowd now sat in hushed anticipation, the whispers of her trial still fresh in the air. They had heard the accusations, seen the evidence, and now, they waited to see if the princess would fall from grace.

At the head of the room, Richard Lancaster sat, the faintest, most condescending smile tugging at his lips as he surveyed the faces of the councilors. The senior members of the council, men of age and influence, exchanged wary glances. They knew the consequences of executing the princess, the realm's only heir. It was a decision that would echo for generations, a decision that could fracture the kingdom forever.

The High Councilor, Lord Caelan, a tall, severe figure with years of service etched into his weathered face, stepped forward. His voice was measured, carrying the weight of the moment.

"The charges against Princess Giovanna are grave," he began, addressing the assembly. "Yet, as heir to the throne, her bloodline is sacred. To execute her would set a dangerous precedent and stir unrest that this kingdom cannot afford. The people are restless enough, and a royal execution could push them into open rebellion."

A murmur rippled through the room—some nodded in agreement, others shifted uncomfortably. Richard's expression tightened briefly before he masked it, forcing his face to betray none of the irritation simmering beneath. He could see the council slipping from his grasp, and though he detested appearing weak, he knew that challenging them outright would only make him more vulnerable. He would bide his time.

Lord Caelan continued, his voice steady but final. "After much deliberation, the council has decided: Princess Giovanna will be stripped of her titles, her lands, and her inheritance. She will no longer hold any claim to the throne. Her lineage is to be erased."

A collective gasp spread through the room, followed by a flurry of whispers. Giovanna, shackled and standing before them like a condemned criminal, met the news with a look of icy resolve. She had expected this, but hearing it spoken aloud was still a cruel blow. Stripped of her titles, she would be no better than the lowest peasant, her name erased from the kingdom's history. To be cast aside, her future left in the hands of men who had long since abandoned the realm's ideals in pursuit of their own power.

Lord Caelan's voice softened, as if pitying her, but his gaze remained unwavering. "The regency will pass to Prince Regent Richard Lancaster, who, as protector of the realm, shall assume the throne and rule as king. This is deemed necessary for the stability of the kingdom and to avoid the dangers of rebellion."

Giovanna's eyes locked with Richard's across the hall, her gaze cutting through the distance like a blade. His expression was a mask of cold satisfaction, but she saw the triumph behind it, the arrogance he could not conceal. She had known this day was coming, ever since he had orchestrated the death of Jane's mother, ever since he had begun his careful manipulation to seize control of the throne. Now, he had finally succeeded. She was to be erased, her legacy smothered beneath his cold, iron rule.

Giovanna's lip curled in disdain, but her voice rang out clear and commanding, a defiant echo in the cold hall. "Thank you, Lord Caelan," she said, her tone dripping with contempt. "Though you and your council may strip me of my titles, you cannot strip me of my worth. You may cast me aside like a piece of refuse, but I will never forget what I am, what I stand for." Her eyes swept over the room, each face of those who had turned against her, each face of those who had betrayed her.

"Titles mean nothing," she continued, her voice growing sharper with each word, "if they are not held with honor. You may take everything from me, but you will never take my dignity. I am the blood of this kingdom. If you believe you can erase me, you are gravely mistaken."

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, some faces filled with fear, others with admiration. Giovanna's defiance was not lost on them. Even in her fall, she stood with the power of a queen.

Richard rose from his seat, his voice cold and calculated. "Then it is decided. Giovanna will be escorted to the border, where she will live out her days among the commoners she claims to care so much for," he sneered, his words meant as an insult, a final humiliation.

Giovanna's gaze never wavered, her eyes seething with fury and a sense of inevitable vengeance. "I will not beg for mercy," she said, her voice steady as stone. "You believe you have defeated me, but you are mistaken. This kingdom is mine by right, and you may wear the crown for now. But there is no power in a crown without the people's love." Her eyes flicked briefly over the council, some faces unsure, some guilty, but all caught in her gaze. "Remember this moment, gentlemen. Remember who you've abandoned."

Richard, visibly irritated by her defiance, turned sharply, dismissing her with a curt wave. "Enough of this. Take her away."

As the guards moved to escort her from the hall, Giovanna stood tall, her shoulders squared, her gaze unwavering. She cast one last look at the council and nobles assembled—at the faces of those who had betrayed her, those who had bent to Richard's will. She would not forget. None of them would be spared her vengeance.

The grand hall doors slammed shut behind her, sealing her fate—but not the last word. No, she would have the last word, even if it meant she had to destroy them all to do so.