The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(74)
James was already standing close to me. Melanie moved near Patrick, their red-coated guards in close attendance as they all watched, waiting to see what the wraith boy would do.
Chrysalis stretched out his hands and turned up his palms. A low rumble filled the area, making soldiers stagger to stay in combat, but when the snow began to draw away from the bulk of the battle, shooting between legs and away from the wagons, people halted and looked around. A few took the opportunity to run, and some finished the fights they’d been involved in, but most just stood and stared.
Someone pointed up. Toward me.
The snow pulled itself into a wall along the entrance to the bridge, covering the guard stations. It gathered higher and higher until the top of the mound touched the passageway. Shards of compacted snow jutted up, reflecting the light of gas lamps. Angles shifted and focused until the white light surrounded me.
Everyone saw me.
“Soldiers of Aecor,” called the wraith boy, unnaturally loud in the sudden stillness below. “Your queen—”
“Princess,” I hissed.
“Your princess is here. She wishes to address you.”
I stepped onto the ledge. Behind me, Patrick and Melanie hadn’t moved, and their guards were with them. I hated turning my back to Patrick, but I trusted Melanie. James hoisted himself up beside me, and together we gazed down the steep slope of glittering snow, where thousands of men waited at the base.
The angled planes of snow amplified my voice. “My name is Wilhelmina Korte. I’ve come to tell the people of Aecor the truth about my stay in Skyvale. King Tobiah Pierce has not held me as a hostage, nor has he forbidden me to reclaim Aecor. For the last several weeks, since I first revealed my identity, we have been in peaceful negotiations. Patrick Lien returned to Aecor without my blessing. He incited this resistance without my consent.”
A blast of icy wind pushed at me, stealing my breath and whipping my cloak, but the wraith boy reached up and held me in place. James warmed my side: a steady, strong presence.
“I have with me Captain James Rayner, cousin to King Tobiah. He is here as proof of our alliance, and our dedication to work together to resolve the conflicts between Aecor and the Indigo Kingdom.”
“Very good,” James muttered.
Below, people shifted. A low hum of voices came, but it was impossible to understand anything that was said.
“This fighting will cease immediately. When I reach Sandcliff Castle—”
At the far end of the passageway, a door slammed open. Ospreys Ronald and Oscar Gray strode out, and between them they dragged a limp and bloodied Prince Colin.
“Oh, by all the saints.” James groaned.
Patrick beckoned the Gray brothers closer. There was no emotion on his face, just the same unwavering determination to do what he thought was necessary.
“I have what I came for.” He didn’t need to raise his voice, or even look at me. “This ambush was not to invade the Indigo Kingdom,” he said, drawing a sword. The point touched the side of Prince Colin’s neck, but the unconscious prince didn’t move. “I simply want to take back Aecor. Terrell, the man who took it, is dead by my hand.”
James stiffened beside me. I touched his forearm. “Don’t move.”
“Though my plans for the new king were thwarted, the message was delivered: Aecorians will fight for their home.” When Prince Colin began to stir, Patrick edged the blade away. He wouldn’t cut by accident; when he did, it would be with deliberate precision. “Now I have the Overlord of Aecor. He’s raised incredible taxes on the people, forced them to the front lines of the wraithland, and has even had the audacity to live in Sandcliff Castle—the home where the Kortes once resided. With his death, Aecor will be one step closer to reclaiming its independence.”
“No.” I drew my sword and dagger. “Drop your weapon, Patrick.”
He met my eyes, only a flash of triumph in his expression before he said, “You know how to enforce that command.”
Prince Colin blinked a few times and awakened. Blood dripped down his face as he scanned his surroundings, muttering curses under his breath. When he looked from Patrick to me, his eyes were filled with hate.
Patrick would kill Prince Colin. Just like he’d killed Terrell, and almost killed James and Tobiah. Just like the wraith boy had killed Meredith.
He’d kill Prince Colin for me. For my kingdom.
Tobiah’s words haunted me: “What kind of queen will you be? The kind who allows others to murder in her name, or the kind who stands up and makes decisions her conscience can agree with?”
“Fine.” The word was a breath. My heart sped faster, and the cold sapped at my strength, but I forced my voice to project. “I hereby declare myself Queen of Aecor.”
PART THREE
THE VERMILION THRONE
TWENTY-SIX
THE EFFECT OF my words was immediate.
A great cry rose up behind me. The air shook with thousands of voices, some in protest, but many more in triumph.
Prince Colin glared at me with murder in his eyes, but Patrick simply nodded and took a slow, measured step away from the prince—but not before edging his blade a breath closer to Prince Colin’s throat, leaving a long, thin cut. A reminder. A promise.
Then Patrick’s blade hit the floor and he held out his arms in surrender.