Kill the Queen Read online

  Vasilia was far more than just a pretty face. She was also one of the best warriors in Bellona and could cut down opponents twice her size with the sword and the dagger hanging off her black leather belt. She was equally good with other weapons, everything from bows to staffs to spears. And then there was her magic. Vasilia was a powerful magier, able to summon up lightning with a mere thought, and she was as deadly with it as she was with everything else.

  The crown princess smiled and nodded, acknowledging all the admiring and envious looks. She let everyone stare at her for a few seconds longer, then began moving from one group of people to another, all of whom stepped up, eager for her time and attention.

  Perhaps it was our gladiator history, but there is a saying at Seven Spire, one that had spread throughout the kingdom and the rest of the continent—Bellonans are very good at playing the long game.

  Sometimes in the arena, you killed your opponent in an instant. But other times, most times, you had to wait and plot and plan. You had to cut down your enemy one small, shallow slice at a time. Playing the long game meant being patient, inflicting the wounds you could along the way, and waiting for that perfect moment to strike and finally finish off your enemy.

  All the royals and nobles excelled at the long game, as did the servants and guards. They knew that being nice to the crown princess now could go a long way toward getting certain favors granted to them when she was queen.

  Nox trailed along behind Vasilia, hovering at her elbow and engaging in her conversations, as though he were her consort instead of just the guard she was currently fucking. Whispers surged across the lawn, and everyone glanced from Nox to Frederich and back again, wondering how the prince would react to the other man’s presence.

  Frederich must have heard the rumors about Nox and Vasilia, because he frowned, as did Lord Hans. Queen Cordelia was standing next to them, and her lips were pinched into a tight, thin line that indicated she was quietly furious. Not only about Vasilia throwing Nox in Frederich’s face, but also because Vasilia was flitting around, instead of greeting the Andvarians first.

  The doors opened again. This time, instead of servants or some other late-arriving royal, more guards streamed onto the lawn. I started to ignore them, but then I realized that I didn’t recognize any of the guards, just as I hadn’t recognized the ones patrolling the hallways earlier.

  It just seems like there are a lot of new people around the palace lately. Alvis’s voice whispered in my mind. He was certainly right about that.

  Vasilia’s laughter rippled on the breeze, and the light, pealing sound made my heart squeeze tight with a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and resignation. I could almost feel myself shrinking, even though she wasn’t anywhere near me.

  It hadn’t always been this way. Once upon a time, I had considered Vasilia to be my best friend, a warm, comforting light in the dark aftermath of my parents’ murders. I hadn’t realized back then that that warmth, comfort, and light came with a price—one that I could never pay.

  Vasilia moved from one group to the next, smiling, laughing, and soaking up all the adoration. Eventually, she broke free of the crowd, and I thought she might finally deign to greet Cordelia, Hans, and Frederich, but Felton scurried up to her. He opened his red ledger, and she nodded at whatever he was showing her in the book.

  Vasilia must have sensed my gaze, because she raised her head, and her eyes narrowed. I stared back at her, wondering if she would favor me with a smile too. A servant carrying a tray of champagne walked in front of me, and Vasilia tracked his movements as he handed out the glasses, and everyone started sipping the liquid.

  She hadn’t noticed me. Not for one second. Of course not. I hadn’t been worthy of her time or attention in fifteen years now. My cheeks flamed, and I felt even smaller and more insignificant than before. I would have grabbed a glass of champagne and downed my sorrows, but the servants had already passed them all out, leaving me out of luck, just as I had been with the pie. Story of my life.

  Queen Cordelia had had quite enough of being ignored, and she tink-tink-tinked a fork against her glass, making the crystalline notes ring out across the lawn. She handed the fork to a servant, who slipped into the background with the others. Everyone on the lawn turned toward her.

  Even Vasilia faced her mother, her hands clasped in front of her, since she hadn’t bothered to get any champagne.

  “I want to welcome our distinguished guests from Andvari, but especially Lord Hans and Prince Frederich,” Cordelia called out. “They honor us with their presence and especially with their friendship.”

  She raised her glass in a toast to the two men, who returned the gesture, as did the rest of the Andvarians scattered throughout the crowd. Even Gemma, the girl who’d eaten my pie, lifted a glass, although hers contained sparkling apple cider.

  “Today, we usher in a new era between our two kingdoms,” Cordelia continued. “For centuries, Bellona and Andvari have been united in friendship and commerce. It is my intention that we will soon be united in marriage as well.”

  Prince Frederich smiled and dipped his head to the queen. Everyone looked at Vasilia, wondering how she would take the queen’s pronouncement, but she nodded to her mother, then smiled at the prince, playing her role perfectly.

  Cordelia raised her glass again. “To friendship!”

  Everyone echoed her words, then tipped up their glasses and drank half their champagne, as was the Bellonan custom.

  While everyone else was distracted, Cordelia glared at Vasilia and gave a sharp, pointed jerk of her head. The princess got the message loud and clear, and she moved through the crowd until she was standing beside Prince Frederich.

  Lord Hans beamed at them. Cordelia eyed her daughter, but Vasilia’s acquiescence must have satisfied her because she looked at the crowd again.

  “In addition to our long-standing friendship, today we also celebrate several new trade agreements with Andvari . . .”

  The queen launched into her speech, droning on about how happy she was that the ambassador was here, what an honor it was to host the prince, and all the other expected niceties. I tuned out her words, since I’d heard variations of them hundreds of times before at other events. By this point, I just wanted her speech to bloody end so that we could sit down and I could finally eat something. But a visit by an ambassador and a prince was no small thing, and the queen had prepared quite a lot of words in order to properly mark the occasion.

  My stomach grumbled in protest, and I looked toward the doors, wondering if the kitchen staff might come back with another round of fruit, crackers, and cheeses to get us through the queen’s speech. But the servants were clustered together near the edge of the lawn, clutching their empty trays, as if they had been told to stay put by the guards who flanked them.

  For the first time, I noticed just how many guards were here. Dozens of them ringed the lawn, and each one had his hand on his sword. Strange that they would be on such high alert at such a routine event.

  I wasn’t the only one who noticed the extra guards. Captain Auster did as well, and he sidled closer to the queen, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword. Worry flared up in my stomach, but I pushed it away. We were standing in the middle of the royal lawn. There was absolutely nothing to fear here, other than catty comments and backstabbing relatives.

  “A toast!” Cordelia called out, wrapping up her speech. “To new beginnings!”

  Everyone lifted their glasses again and downed the rest of their champagne, as was the custom.

  Vasilia pointedly cleared her throat and stepped into the open space in front of the queen. Cordelia frowned, obviously wondering if she was going to stage some sort of protest, but Vasilia nodded at Hans and Frederich, then turned and nodded at the crowd as well, as though she was happy that so many people were here to witness her de facto engagement.

  “As my mother said, we are quite pleased that you could all mark this special day with us,” Vasilia said in her lovely, lilt
ing voice. “It’s not often that so many Blairs, so many members of my extended family, are gathered in one place, along with such distinguished guests, and I’m so honored that each and every one of you could be here . . .”

  She was saying all the right things, expressing all the right sentiments, but her words made my stomach knot up with dread. I’d spent the last fifteen years watching Vasilia, analyzing her every word, gesture, and expression, and I recognized the cold, flat, distant note in her voice. It was the same one she’d used when she had betrayed our friendship.

  I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed the hollow ring to her speech, but everyone was nodding and smiling, hanging on her every word.

  Except for Felton and Nox.

  They were close to the palace wall, well behind the guards who ringed the lawn. Curious. Usually, the two of them were front and center, with Felton hovering around the queen and Nox doing the same to Vasilia. I frowned. Something was going on, something far more serious and worrisome than the usual cliques, politics, and infighting.

  I looked at Captain Auster, who was standing by the queen’s side, his hand still on his sword. He too was scanning the crowd, and the longer he looked around, the more his eyes narrowed, as if he had the same bad feeling that I did. His obvious concern increased my own worry.

  “For far too long, our kingdoms have squabbled over small, petty things,” Vasilia continued. “Well, I say no more. Soon, we will all be united, as my mother has said.”

  She glanced at Lord Hans, who winked back at her, apparently pleased by her words. Then she turned to Prince Frederich and gave him a small smile, the corners of her lips curving up, as though she was amused by some secret that only she knew.

  Those knots of worry in my stomach doubled, tripled, in size, then crawled up into my chest, wrapped around my heart, and strangled it. I knew that smile. It was the same one that Vasilia always gave me right before she was particularly cruel. The smile that dazzled, tricked, and conned you into coming that much closer to her warmth, light, and beauty, so that she could finally, fully eviscerate you.

  “Oh, yes.” Vasilia’s voice boomed like thunder. “Today is a new beginning for all of us. Starting with you, Prince Frederich.”

  Her eyes flashed with a dark, wicked light, and her lips curved up even more. Somehow, I knew exactly what was coming next, even though it was unthinkable.

  Before I could shout a warning, Vasilia plucked the jeweled dagger off her belt, whipped it up, and buried it in Prince Frederich’s heart.

  Chapter Six

  The shock was like a cold, wet blanket dropping over the lawn and blotting out the heat, light, and normalcy of the day. Everyone blinked and blinked, but no one could quite believe what had happened. That the crown princess of Bellona had just attacked—murdered—the Andvarian prince.

  Vasilia’s smile widened, and she stared at Frederich as she ripped her dagger out of his chest. The prince’s mouth opened, but only a small, strangled gasp escaped his lips. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he dropped like a stone, dead before he even hit the grass.

  Lord Hans yelled and lunged forward, but Vasilia coolly whirled around, executed the perfect spin move, and sliced her dagger across his stomach.

  Hans screamed and stumbled into a table, sending the plates, glasses, and forks flying through the air. His face twisted with pain, but he growled, clamped his hand over the blood and guts spilling out of his stomach, and pushed away from the table. He staggered toward Vasilia, still determined to attack her.

  The other Andvarians snapped out of their shock. They too yelled with rage, drew their swords, and shoved through the crowd, trying to reach Hans.

  Vasilia watched them come, along with Hans, who was still stumbling toward her. She let out a small, pleased laugh, then snapped up her hand and reached for her magic.

  White lightning streaked out of her fingertips and slammed into Lord Hans’s chest.

  For a moment, the ambassador resembled a fluorestone—this pillar of bright white light. Then the magic washed over his body, cooking his open guts, along with the rest of him. He screamed again and lurched back, but Vasilia had no mercy.

  She never had any mercy.

  She blasted Hans a second time with her power. Then a third, then a fourth. Or perhaps it was all one continuous stream of lightning. But her magic was just as deadly as her dagger had been, and seconds later, Lord Hans dropped to the ground, his dead body reduced to a burned husk.

  The hot, caustic scent of Vasilia’s magic filled my nose, along with the charred stench of Hans’s fried flesh. My stomach roiled, but I was too shocked to vomit.

  People yelled, screamed, and scrambled back, desperate to get away from Vasilia’s lightning before she cooked them to death too. I wasn’t close to Vasilia, but I still backed up until I hit the table behind me. Even the Andvarians stopped short, not sure what to do now that both of their leaders were dead.

  Once again, that shocked silence descended over the lawn, and everyone was frozen in place—except for Queen Cordelia. She marched forward, moving past Captain Auster, who had drawn his sword and stepped in front of her the moment that Vasilia had attacked Frederich.

  “Vasilia!” she barked. “Stop this madness at once!”

  Cordelia raised her hand and reached for her own power, since she was a fire magier and one of the few who could go toe to toe with Vasilia’s lightning. Her hand should have burst into flames, but only a few red-hot sparks flickered on her fingertips. Cordelia frowned and shook her hand, as though she didn’t understand why her magic wasn’t instantly igniting like usual.

  “What’s the matter, Mother?” Vasilia called out in a light, mocking voice. “It looks like you can’t summon up a single spark of power. Luckily, I don’t have that problem.”

  She waggled her hand, and more lightning sizzled on her fingertips. People sucked in ragged breaths and backed up a few more steps.

  “What did you do?” Cordelia demanded.

  “Nothing much. Just stood back and watched while you and everyone else guzzled down your champagne like usual.” Vasilia tapped her finger on her lips. “Well, I suppose that it wasn’t just like usual, since everyone’s champagne has wormroot mixed in with all those golden bubbles.”

  Cordelia’s eyes widened, and horrified gasps rang out. Everyone stared at the glasses in their hands, sick expressions twisting their faces.

  Wormroot was a particularly sinister poison. First, it extinguished a person’s magic, from the weakest mutt to the strongest magier. Then, when a person’s magic was gone, the poison went to work on their internal organs, reducing them all to mush, until their eyes, nose, mouth, and even fingernails hemorrhaged blood. My father had been poisoned with wormroot, and it was a truly horrific way to die.

  I would have drunk the champagne too, if not for the foul stench. I just hadn’t realized that I was smelling poison. I should have, though. I should have done something, should have warned people that something was wrong, but I hadn’t, and now, everyone was going to die. My stomach roiled again, but I swallowed down the hot, bitter bile rising in my throat.

  Most of my cousins were still clutching their glasses, fear filling their eyes, waiting for the poison to kick in. A few desperately snapped their fingers, trying to summon up their magier power, but all they could produce were weak sparks, like Cordelia.

  Madelena looked particularly sick, and she dropped her glass and pressed both hands to her bulging belly, as if that would protect the baby growing inside. She had been drinking apple cider, along with the children. Madelena must have thought that Vasilia had poisoned their glasses too, because she let out a soft whimper and swayed on her feet. She would have fallen, if Durante hadn’t steadied her.

  Vasilia rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, Maddie. I didn’t poison you, and I didn’t give our cousins all that much wormroot either. Just enough to keep everyone from using their magic. I wanted to do the final honors of finishing you all off myself
.”

  Captain Auster stepped in front of the queen again and snapped up his sword. “You’ll do no such thing,” he growled. “Guards! To me! Now!”

  Every single guard drew their weapon, but only about a dozen of them heeded Auster’s command and flanked him and the queen. Auster’s eyes narrowed as he studied the rest of the guards, who held their positions at the edge of the lawn, the sun glinting off the blades in their hands.

  I recognized the men and women standing with Auster, but none of the others. My heart sank. Alvis had been right about all the new people at the palace. And once again, I realized that the strange guards reeked of magic. Whatever power they had, they were getting ready to unleash it.

  Nox moved away from his spot along the wall, stepped through the ring of guards, and strode over to stand beside Vasilia. “Sorry, old chap. But as you can see, I replaced your men with some of my own.” He used his sword to snap off a mocking salute to Auster.

  The captain’s lips pressed together, but he tightened his grip on his weapon, ready to defend his queen to his last breath.

  Cordelia placed a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. Then she sidestepped her guard and faced Vasilia again.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  Vasilia’s eyes glittered with a cold light. “Because I’m tired of being the perfect little princess and taking orders from you. I’m tired of you ignoring my suggestions and undercutting my proposals at every turn.”

  “You mean imposing new taxes on Floresian goods? Annexing mines on Andvarian land? Sending troops to the Ungerian border?” Cordelia shook her head. “Your proposals would do nothing but plunge us into war.”