The enthronement, p.34
The Enthronement, page 34
“How?”
“Like other kingdoms do.”
“With this guard?” I nod at them.
The leader laughs, “I see your point. But peace often brings agreements that wouldn’t happen otherwise.”
That is what Damian’s stories warned against. Nothing is as simple as they’d made me believe. I’m so naïve. No wonder Dad didn’t like me meeting him. Dad must use him to get what he wants. Letting the Loyalists win was letting my father win.
“Really? How do you intend to ensure that? There will be two unhappy factions if you win. Let alone what the Custods might do,” I point out.
He laughs at me. “Oh yes, Custods.” He rolls his eyes, “Who do nothing in this war but birth their own faction. They don’t care about Purerah, lass. Never have.”
That was rude. He knows who I am. I ignore it though for diplomacy’s sake. “So, you don’t fear what they’ll do?”
“No, they let us sort out our own mess. Have since the king enforced his mad tax,” the leader shakes his head. “The people don’t have a plan. Potentates riot when they get annoyed. No one does the work for Purerah. Not like we do.”
“So, when you win, what work will you do?” I challenge. “Winning isn’t enough for Purerah or her people. What will you do to preserve it?”
“To ensure peace? When the people get what they need, the griping stops. How many bandits do you know who steal only for lack of work? How many for lack of other means to simply eat a decent meal? What happens when you give them what they really want?”
“Fair, so how will you give it to them?”
The leader chuckles and sits back. “How would you do it, Miss?” He throws the title at me mockingly.
“I came here to learn about you. I didn’t say I had any plans.”
“And you demand them of me?”
“You have sat there since before I was born saying you want to right the wrongs of Purerah. You’ve had time to think on it long enough,” I reply.
The leader nods. “I see.” He puts the tips of his fingers together. “The palace taught you well.” He glances at Damian.
That does it! “I come speaking for myself, thank you. You want him to leave?” I’m getting tired of these “boys” controlling my life. “I’m not just a part in your machine. I can speak my mind.”
“And loudly,” the leader chuckles to himself.
I’ve heard enough. I am not letting that rabble in. “I see. Then I suppose we have nothing more to discuss,” I state coolly.
“You impress me,” the leader says. “I look forward to meeting again.”
I bow my head, but no more than that. I am not curtsying to him. I look at Damian to lead the way out.
Damian doesn’t move just yet. He eyes the leader. “This man you wish to establish as the next ruler. Where is he?”
Oh, why hadn’t I thought of that? Damian suggested that.
“Ah, he is about. He likes to wander the night; he’s not the most obedient little boy. He doesn’t like to come when called.” The leader glowers at that.
“You call him a boy, yet you expect him to rule?” Damian arches a brow, “Intriguing. Though I’m sure one of your men might be able to persuade him to present himself.”
“Do you not ever call your son your boy?” the leader asks, “Most of all when he’s being stubborn about a foolish point. Like appearing for an important meeting.”
“My son doesn’t need to be called a boy,” Damian says coyly, “because he understands the depth and breadth of meetings and their importance. But if such discipline has gone amiss among your ranks, how can you expect discipline in your new order when you seek to command not just your people but all others?”
“Because people unite under a common desire. When the divisors between them are gone, people corporate.”
“Oh, like they did on Restoration Day?” Damian arches a brow. “I doubt that very much. But... for argument's sake, let's say you’re right. You storm the castle and kill the ruling family, then what? You claim you will give the money back. But to whom? And how? And that’s under the notion that the money is actually in the castle.”
I frown as the leader laughs. That is a good question. I’m sure I’d never be allowed near it. And I have no idea where the royal treasury is. “Where else would it be?” The leader is still chuckling to himself.
Damian sneers and shakes his head. “You haven’t a clue, do you? You think five hundred years of gems are just sitting there, ready to take? But taxes don’t just go to the royal family. They pay for the city guard and everything official you meet. You think you can just take that from them? That’s their living too, isn’t it? They still have to eat, drink and keep a roof over their heads. But why should that matter? No, instead, you’ll steal what you think you’ve been robbed of. Trying to get it back into the ‘right pockets’, right? But whose are they? By the state of your living quarters, I doubt you even pay taxes. I very much doubt your men do either. Yet, I’m sure you’ll still want a ‘cut’ for your work. And who determines that? How much is your share? Do the people get a say on what you decide to do with their hard-earned money? Or will you take what you think you’ve earned before giving it back to those who actually pay the tax? Can you call that fair? Can you be satisfied with what the people say you earned, or will you become as those you hate by simply taking however much you want and expect the people to be happy?”
I’d not thought of that either. I have no idea what kind of money they take from the raids just that it is never “enough”. I know a lot of it goes to helping the children in need. That’s why Jake was always annoyed when they didn’t have enough for them. But you have to keep this operation going somehow. The Custod rebels don’t take a cut. But do Loyalists?
“And you think you know better?” the leader challenges Damian. “That you know what it’s like to be those cut off from even making a living by this overburden?”
Damian chuckles. “My dear boy, you have no idea. My father cut me off when I was a youth. I am what I am by what I did on my own merit. And I have traveled nations. Kingdoms and empires collapse on the back of greedy men with ‘good intentions’. You are a fool to think that blood and money will satisfy you or the masses. And if you do succeed in your plan, it will be your blood the people demand next.” He meets the leader’s eyes with a narrow intense gaze as if daring him to deny it.
The leader just shakes his head. “So, this is why the change of heart.” He glances at me. Of course, I can’t have an opinion of my own. But I keep my mouth shut. No one will listen anyway.
“The lady speaks for herself, and I for myself,” Damian says firmly. “But if you will not heed the warning and cannot provide your man, then I believe the lady is right, and we have nothing further to discuss.” He slips his sword back in the cane and twists the head until it locks. I like the satisfying click it makes.
Damian guides me out of the Loyalist’s den as if he’d walked the path many times, keeping his hand on my shoulder to ward off any who might try to affront me. I’m thankful for that, so I can think.
Once we’re out, I turn to him. “The Potentates are more in town. Do you know the burned district?”
“I’ve seen it before, but only briefly,” Damian replies.
“That’s where we’re meeting them.”
Damian nods to me. “Then let’s be off.”
He leads me through town, keeping a protective hold on me until we arrive. Soon, we’re surrounded by the Potentate rebels.
It’s a strange mix. Some are jeering at me, mocking me for being part of the problem. But unlike the Loyalists, they keep a respectful distance, for the most part. A few younger men try to get into my face.
Each time, Damian moves just as he did in the leader’s presence, getting between them and me faster than they can blink. “I’d keep my distance if I were you.” He glares at each of them with a frightening glance as his sword slides out of his cane again and becomes a yardstick between them and him as he guards me from all sides.
I smile my thanks at Damian as we press on. We pass through ruined buildings, large meeting areas, but none of them take us to a leader. I try to ask, but it’s hard over all the yelling.
“I said I’d come to meet with your leader!” I try. “Where is he or she?”
“That’s me.” A shockingly young man steps up.
“Uh no, that’s me.” A girl only a little older stumbles forward drunkenly.
Damian glances at me with an arched brow then turns back to the people. “Whom do you follow?”
The replies are loud, almost violent, and none match, making it impossible for me to know who they are cheering for.
“Seems they cannot agree among themselves,” Damian says to me.
“No.” This is the worst sign yet. “I guess I got my answer.” My heart is sinking.
All I’d known was a lie. And I had to sell my soul for it. I only just stop my tears, though I think I feel one slipping away down my cheek.
I jump back as a splat lands at my feet. Some laugh, others tell off the person who’d done it.
I look at Damian. This is out of hand. I can see why their trademark, according to the prince, is a mess like a drunk party. I worry that’s what I smell.
“SILENCE!” Damian calls out over all their voices.
That shuts them all up apart from a few drunk giggles.
“If you cannot talk civilly and appoint a few to be spokesmen, then no further good can come of this meeting,” Damian snarls, looking ten times more dangerous than I’ve ever seen him. “Speak with us or depart,” he commands.
“And who is going to make us?” The speaker looks drunk, swaying and trying to look big and strong, but not succeeding.
Damian meets his eye. His presence is commanding, dark, and almost foreboding. “I will,” he says darkly. “And you’ll be the first to fall. I can promise you that.”
The man stumbles back.
“Let’s just go.” We don’t need to make a scene. They can make a mess and yell at each other all they want.
“Very well. This meeting has ended. Go now and be gone. Any who tarry will answer to me,” Damian says commandingly.
The crowd doesn’t listen at first. I’d rather just go, but I can’t stop Damian. It takes a long time for them to start filtering out, seeming annoyed and disappointed.
Once most are gone, Damian takes my arm and leads me away, still very watchful of our surroundings. I let him, trying to stay close to him and keep an eye out. After all, I am not helpless.
Once he is sure they are all gone, he relaxes and puts away his sword. I let out a breath and shut my eyes.
Well, this was helpful. I wish it had been more soothing and comforting, instead, I only affirmed what I feared.
Damian watches me a moment before offering his hand. “Shall we press on?”
I nod. “How do we get in?”
“In what?” Damian asks.
“Oh, I was only able to arrange for the two of them tonight.”
Damian tilts his head and gives me that searching look. “Kascia, if we go back now, I can’t guarantee we can do this again.”
I swallow. “I know. I wouldn’t ask you to try again.”
I know I can’t meet with my father in front of Damian, no matter how badly I want to. I want nothing more than to feel his hug, to beg him for answers, to sort out the pain in my heart. Yes, I’m angry with him for making me do this, but I still love him. He’s my papa, my truth and guide. I’m sure he can help me figure this out if I just share it all with him.
But it’s too dangerous for Damian to see that. I can’t ask it of him. He’s been too good to me already.
“Can you be satisfied without finding out those answers?” Damian asks.
I nod. “Yes, I am.” I give him a smile and fold my arms. “I got my answers.” All that I can get anyway.
Damian’s brow arches more sharply, and he tilts his head the other way. “You’re sure? You seemed pretty upset and conflicted before.”
I bite my lips. I’m tempted. He could pin Dad down, I’m sure, but... “Let’s just... I know them pretty well. I don’t need to see them.”
Damian pauses a moment, his face almost blank, except for his eyes searching mine. “He’s your father, isn’t he?”
Tears rush to my eyes as the huge weight of having no one understand or know my secret lifts in a moment.
I nod. I didn’t tell, Papa.
Damian relaxes and pulls me into a hug, stroking the back of my head. “You poor girl.”
I accept the hug and hide my face in Damian’s shoulder. He holds me for a long time before pulling back with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”
I nod my thanks and wipe my eyes. “I didn’t want to do this. I want it to go back to normal, but it’s far too late for that.”
“Sadly, things always seem to happen that way,” Damian says sympathetically. “Come on. It’s late, and you need your rest. You can tell me the rest another time. Perhaps tomorrow if it suits you.”
I nod. Part of me is begging me to ask Damian if he can help me see my father, but the other part feels Damian is right and we should head back.
“I miss him, but I’m so scared,” I confess.
Damian studies me for a moment. “Would it help to see him?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know if it’s safe.” I pause. “But... I do want to.”
Damian nods and thinks for a moment. “I will protect you. No matter what,” he promises. “It is your decision, my lady.” He bows his head to me.
“Is it really safe? If anyone sees...”
“That’s what hoods are for.” He smiles and puts his hood up.
I manage a smile and wipe my eyes. I debate for a moment.
“He should be home. I know the way, but not sure how to avoid the dangers in between.”
“Point the way, and I’ll get you there safely,” he promises.
I guide with Damian making small corrections and pausing to let unseen people pass. Damian must have eyes like a cat and ears like a fox to know they are there because I’m clueless.
We finally reached my old home. It’s so odd to see it dark from the outside. A candle in the window shows my father working in the front room.
I swallow and move towards the window. I glance at Damian, who stays back and nods me on. I tap lightly on the window with my nail the way the messenger birds do.
Dad looks up and sees me. His face fills with shock then worry. He’s up and at the door in moments.
The second he opens the door, I rush to him and hug him tightly.
“Kascia, what are you doing here?” He sounds tender but also worried as he hugs me back just as tightly but pushes me back just enough to see my face. “You weren’t found out, were you?”
“No,” I admit. “I just... I had to see you. I need answers. Papa, you have...”
Dad sighs. It’s a mixed sound. He sounds annoyed and angry but also sad and hurt.
He pulls me close again. “I know. I know it’s hard. Our biggest missions always are. I’m sorry. I should have prepared you better.” His next sigh told me what he is about to say. “But you have to go back. If you’re found gone...”
“I had to talk to you, please. I hardly hear from you, and your last letter ignored everything, and I know it’s dangerous to write so...”
“Oh, my sweet cygnet.” He hugs me again, holding my head to his chest. “I understand, but there’s no time. If your mother or... others...” he glances around.
“I’m sorry, papa, but I just...”
“I understand. Really, I do, but we have to do this. You have to go back before anyone sees you.” Dad’s dark eyes dart around. I realize he may be expecting company.
I nod sadly, “I love you, Papa.” And I might have to betray him.
“I love you too, cygnet, but you have to go.” He gives me another tight hug. “I’ll see you soon.”
Right, in a month in his mind. But I’m not going to be able to do it. Would he ever see me and love me again?
He kisses my head and tells me to run before he ducks back inside.
Just as the door closes, Damian drops down from the roof. I jump. He’s as tricky as Sage. Thank heavens Dad didn’t spot him.
I hug myself and nod at Damian to lead the way back, holding back my crushed heart for the moment. I understand my Dad's reaction, but I just wanted to talk to him. Really understand.
Damian gives me a sad smile then ushers me into the next street then down a darkened alley before turning to me and pulling me into a hug.
I hug him back tightly, needing the moment as tears flood my eyes. That moment helped so much and yet hurt so much. It was the last time I would see him before... I had to do whatever I had to do. And I’m sure it won’t make him happy. I want to break down and cry, but it’s not safe here. Would it ever be?
Now I’m truly scared. I see the truth of what I have to do. I have to say no. I can’t let them in. I can’t let them win. I’ll have to betray my family, my duty, the oath I swore. What is to become of me? My life is over. Dad won’t let me home if I don’t let him in, and Mom will try and fail to help me. I’ll have nowhere to go.
But can I win? Can I still do what Dad wants just in a different way? The image I’d pictured at dinner flashes to mind. I don’t shove it away. I try to believe in it, but I can’t. I came here on a lie. I’m no true princess. I’m not even a true Custod.
I fight to stop myself from crying, hiccupping a bit in my attempt.
Damian gives me a long moment before pulling back and putting up my hood. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the palace.”
Chapter 29
The next two days are a daze as I try to take in the reality of what I know I have to do. I know what I have to do, but do I have the strength to do it? What will happen to me when I do? What scares me most is what my father and what the Custod Council will do to me.
I get a letter from Mom the next day, but it mentions nothing of last night. She doesn’t know. It likely should stay that way. She’d be worried.
On the second rest day, my maids take more time to themselves to rest, per tradition. I don’t mind the space. Damian comes in to check on me and asks me if I’m alright.
