The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(54)

Ellie didn’t raise her hands.

He stalked to his throne and sat, watching his future bride. Why was she hesitating? He tried to meet her gaze but she looked at the ground, fists clenched at her sides.

“Lady Elizaveta, please, it’s your turn,” the king said, impatient.

A second passed before Ellie lifted her head to look the king in the eye. Color left her cheeks, causing the splattered crimson to stand out. “I-I have no magic.”

“What farce is this?” the king yelled.

Gerard’s stomach twisted. Ellie turned to him and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t understand. He’d seen her perform old magic. She’d held her pendant and…wait, where was the pendant? Her gown was ripped along the neckline, the chain and glowing jewel nowhere to be found. Was that the source of her gift? If so, why wasn’t she wearing it?

Lady Olivia cleared her throat. “She can’t win if she has no magic. The rules are clear on the subject. She’s nothing more than a servant, bound to masters for the rest of her life. I refuse to follow a queen who’s nothing more than a tramp. A whore.”

Ellie spun to spear Lady Olivia with a haughty glare of her own, looking every bit the strong, regal woman she was. “Shut up.”

Anger and a silent rage built. It was one thing to admonish Ellie for a lack of magic. But whore? Gerard stood, intent on dragging Lady Olivia from the throne room, but his mother gripped his arm before he made it two steps. He spun on her.

The queen raised her chin and squinted at Lady Olivia. “Sit, my son. This is Lady Elizaveta’s battle.”

“What did you tell me to do?” Lady Olivia’s face purpled with indignation. “You don’t belong here. You’re a magic-less servant in your own home. You’re a cheat and a liar.”

The gathered nobles gasped.

Ellie did not back down. She did not cower. She stood tall and proud, like an avenging angel. He realized with a start that he loved her.

Magic or no magic, she was his. The queen of his heart. He stayed standing. Is that what she wanted to tell him? That she had no magic, save for the old? He didn’t care.

Ellie’s shoulders flattened and she turned toward her verbal attacker with the lethal grace of a predatory feline. She lifted her chin in a bray of pride. “I may not have magic. I may have lied and cheated to make my way here. But I did it for the people. For my kin.”

“You-you can’t be queen! You have no qualifications. You’re nothing but a slave. A nobody. A stain on my dress that a flip of my wrist will erase. Forever,” Lady Olivia screeched and golden sparks erupted from her fingertips.

“Ah, so true.” Ellie bowed her head. “But if we’re speaking of the truth, allow me to enlighten our kingdom.”

“Shut up!” Lady Olivia squealed and raced for Ellie’s throat, talon-like fingernails extended.

Pierce raced to the lady’s side and tugged her back. Olivia fought Pierce’s hold but was no match.

Gerard’s heart pounded harder and he realized that he’d made it halfway down the steps toward Ellie. She shot him a sad smile and held up her hand to keep him at bay.

“Your crimes are the worst ever committed within the Citadel’s walls,” Ellie said.

The crowd gasped and as Ellie continued, she looked resolute.

“Three decades ago, Dame Lange stood in the same spot. Beaten by our own queen.” Ellie spun her tale with a voice that gained strength with every word. She crossed her fingers, hoping she’d understood the dame correctly.

Gerard tensed, eager to go to Ellie’s side in a show of support, but knew his mother’s earlier words had been right.

This was Ellie’s battle.

“That’s not true!” Lady Olivia screeched and clawed at Pierce who held her still despite her struggles, a stern expression on his young face.

“Sadly, it is,” Ellie chided. “And when it became clear that the rivalry this decade was fiercer than in her time…you two came up with an ingenious plan—hex the competition.”

The crowd roared in anger. Pierce shook Olivia, her feathered mask slipped down to hang from her neck, exposing her features. “Is it true? Are you the one responsible for the pox? For the deaths?”

For a second, Gerard thought Olivia would deny her part again. Scared innocence blanketed her perfect face.

“You’re wrong, Lady Elizaveta.” The queen stood from her throne. “It wasn’t Lady Olivia’s mother who fought against me all those years ago.”

“But—” Ellie began.

“I didn’t recognize you with the mask on, Lady Olive,” the queen said and calmly walked down a few steps. The crowd stunned silent, her words echoed through the ivory marble room. “How did you keep your visage so young? You must be over fifty now.”

“Bitch.” Lady Olivia’s face changed from serene to acidic in one second.

A lone cough echoed, the only sound from the crowd.

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”

“You may be able to hide your age, but you can’t hide the evil in your soul. Why the subterfuge?” the queen asked.

“I deserve to be queen. I’m the most powerful woman of our century, the most cunning, the most beautiful. That throne should be mine!” Spittle flew from Olivia—Olive’s mouth. “I went abroad after my defeat and learned the dark arts. It was easy to worm my way back into this kingdom. You all are so naive and trusting.”