Crimson Throne

Chapter One

Hot sand blistered the bottom of my feet as I stood on the shores of my home. Ignoring the pain, I continued gathering shells as Samson, my personal guard, approached me. He was a handsome man with bright blonde hair and haunting green eyes but also one I called a personal friend. His family had been in our service for generations so it wasn't a surprise to anyone when he was assigned to me, the ailing Duke's daughter. His eyes seemed worn as his strides were long and purposeful. Leaning down to pick up one last shell, I inspected it before asking, "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Ava, you must come now. Your father is asking for you, it's..." Samson hung his head low in sympathy as I picked up my skirts, rushing past him. It couldn't be time, the doctors said another year when in reality it'd hardly been a month.

The halls and the nobles that were currently visiting blurred past before I finally came to a stop outside of my father's door. I couldn't be left alone in this world, I would be the last one to carry on the family name and line but I was a woman and that was forbidden. My only option was to write the Crown Prince and King immediately. Perhaps they would allow me to keep my title for long enough before...the unspeakable.

Pushing the large wooden doors open, the curtains were drawn and servants milled about the room already preparing for what was to come. It sickened me at how disposable we seemed but there was always someone else to take the title. My eyes landed on my aunt who was sobbing at my father's side but no one could ignore the wickedness behind her glazed over eyes. Behind her stood her husband, a man who was born an Earl but with the death of my father would become the new Duke of Dannamore. There was always someone else to take the title.

"Leave us." My voice didn't falter so the servants scattered like ants, leaving me alone with my aunt and her husband. Her and I shared many of the same characteristics of the Loch family but the physical resemblance was where all resemblance stopped. She deserved to be with the snakes of her husband's house.

"Avalon, it's horrible. Your poor father, what will you do? I promise Leighton and I will take care of you. You can even stay here at Nightwell. Everything will stay the same." Clarissa's voice sounded genuine but everything about her told me something different. Leighton wouldn't even spare me a glance as his eyes wandered the room, what would soon become his room. My poor father wasn't even cold yet and they were already re-designing. Sadly, I was apart of that redesign. I wonder if my room would go to one of my third cousins.

"I said leave us." My voice was firm but Clarissa only peered back at me defiantly.

"Your father is my brother. Why would I leave?" Her voice came across as annoyed more than concerned for the well-being of the Duke. Was she going to rob him right under his nose? His chest barely rose up and down now. It'd be easy, too easy.

Finally, Leighton stepped in. He placed a gentle hand on his wife's arm as he told her, "Let's go. Were you robbed of a chance to say goodbye to your father?" He gave me an apologetic glance as him and my aunt finally left the room.

She may be a Loch but she was the spawn of my grandfather's second marriage, what rights did she have under this roof? She didn't grow up here.

Kneeling beside my father's deathbed, I took his frail hand into my own. I didn't know how badly my hands were trembling until now. Could he even feel my touch or was he already so far gone that he didn't feel the pain anymore? The apothecary had given him something to help with the pain, some type of tree root.

"Papa..." With a trembling lip, I continued on, "How did we end up here? You promised I'd always be safe but," the first rolled slowly down my cheek, "they're closing in. I wish Momma were here. She'd know what to do without you." I choked back a sob as a servant entered the room with a tray. Picking up the nearest thing, I threw it at her, shouting, "Leave!" Managing to dodge whatever object I just threw, she quickly exited the room with a look of terror on her face.

Leaning against the bed, I held on as tightly as I could. Begging, the only words that came from my mouth were, "Don't leave me. Oh god, please don't leave me." I'm not sure how long the words came from my mouth until I felt Samson wrap his arms around me, pulling me away. Kicking and hitting him, I screamed, "No! No! He can't leave! Don't let him leave!" Everything was a blur as I saw the doctor checking his pulse but I knew he was gone before he even gave the shake of his head.

"Papa! No, no, no." Tears streamed down my face, my cheeks becoming red and raw. Samson didn't let me go as the servants came to pull the sheet over his face. His aged but handsome face, the same face my mother fell in love with. The face that laughed with me in the gardens. The face that wept as my mother laid in her coffin. A face I now would never see again. A face that could no longer save me.

My knees gave out, causing Samson and I both to fall to the floor. Servants walked by, quiet as they continued on with their work as if their master wasn't lying dead a few feet away. It was all politics for everyone. They'd have a new person to say 'yes' and 'no' to within days so what did it matter to them? There was always someone else to take the title.

***

Pulling my hair away from my face, I glanced to my maids as they awaited instructions. Gently I told them, "I can dress myself today."

Bowing each of their heads, they all replied, "Yes, My Lady." Turning on their heels, they left me alone to my thoughts. Collapsing into my vanity chair, I placed my head in my hands. It'd been two days but it felt as if an eternity had passed. I could only wonder how my father felt when my mother died. A hole had been ripped from my chest, but he had half his heart ripped from him.

Gazing at myself in the mirror, I didn't fully recognize myself. Her skin seemed dull with raw cheeks and a bright red nose. Having my hair pulled away exposed the scars that lined my neck and took a portion of my ear away from me. It was rare I ever left myself so exposed but as he always used to say, "I believe they give you character, little one. Not every little girl can have such a special bond with so powerful a beast."

I sometimes wonder if he was right.

Slowly standing up from the chair, I stared at the black dress that was currently laid out across my bed. I gently ran my fingers across the lace as I sighed, it had been my mothers. She'd given my father two sons but I was the lone one standing. A somber laugh escaped my lips as I thought of the irony of life. It was demented.

A soft knock resounded at my door, one I was curious about. No one would dare come to my chambers, not after seeing my servants leave the room. My feet were silent as I moved closer to the door, hearing a quiet chatter on the other side. In my own home, I'd never been embarrassed about opening the door in just my nightclothes. Wrapping my fingers are the door handle, cool metal pressing into my flesh, the door swung open as hardened eyes met my own.

Yelping, I grabbed the nearest covering I could, backing into the comforts of my room as I cursed loudly. A deep chuckle followed the high-pitched cursings.

Floppy, red-ish brown hair fell into the Crown Prince's hardened eyes as he leaned on, what I assumed to be, a newly acquired crutch which supported his right leg. He appeared the same but somehow different, more mature. Even with the crutch, he still held the power of authority, something I had always been jealous of.

Pulling the thin fabric of my shawl tighter around my body, I asked, "Jacques, what are you doing here? I'm sure you've heard of the Duke's death but there's no way you made it across-"

Holding up his hand, a gesture I knew far too well, I silenced myself as he began to speak, "I was at the front, the north-east corner of the Gaterlands when I received your letter, I came as quickly as I could. I assumed you didn't know I was there instead of the palace, well I believe you need to give your messenger a nice break." He smiled his crooked smile, the one that made any noble girl swoon but all I saw was the boy who laughed when he fell from the apple tree one too many times.

My legs moved before I had a chance to process what was happening as I collided with my former friend. One strong arm wrapped around me as we supported one another, tears streaking my face. The prince's warmth consumed me as we stood in silence, my sobs echoing against the walls. Jacques knew better than to speak, knowing I valued silence, but for once I wished he could have said something, anything. Honestly, I would have listened to battle plans if it just meant filling the void of silence that'd flooded my home the last couple of days but for now, a warm touch would have to do.