Page 7 of Royal Hunt
After a few tense moments, it was clear he wouldn’t. From the shouts and screams that echoed around me, he was likely busy with a new opponent. Or beating up another woman.
The corner of the man’s handkerchief from the balcony peeked out of my bosom and I grabbed it, wiping the man’s blood off my face. The silk felt unnaturally luxurious against my callused fingers, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I stuffed it back in my chest along with the stolen knife, and tried to run as I ducked out from underneath the tablecloth. Two guards spotted me immediately and hauled me up by my armpits, shoving me forward toward the other women. I tripped and fell, my face smacking against the floor. Blood welled under my nose.
Fuck, that hurt.
Another scream and I glanced up in time to watch Princess Ildris fall to the ground, blood gushing from the wide slit across her neck.
Prince Mellan roared, and fought against his captors. They punched him over and over again, his mother’s screams a rising crescendo that hurt my ears and my heart.
The attackers pulled back at a raised hand from their leader, a tall noble with a helmet over his head. Prince Mellan’s face looked like a slab of slaughtered cow meat, nothing more than an oozing, bloody pulp. The queen continued to sob and a strangled moan from the younger princess had my eyes snapping to them. Was she eight? Nine? Too young to witness such atrocities.
“LEAVE MY FAMILY ALONE!” Little Prince Hector stomped on the foot of the man holding him, but it did nothing over the armor that covered his feet. Instead, the guard lifted him into the air and shook him hard, the poor boy’s head flopping back and forth like a rag doll. He screamed once: a broken, horrific sound that cut off abruptly. Then he went silent, his mouth opening and closing with no sound escaping.
Prince Mellan spat blood, his green and gold eyes nearly indistinguishable under all the swelling. “Stop! Tell me what you want and I’ll grant it! Just don’t hurt them!”
The men laughed, the leader out front the loudest of them all. He pulled his helmet from his head, and I gasped as Gregory’s father, Lord Trenton, sneered back at the royal family.
“What do we want? You hear that, lads? Now the royal family suddenly wants to listen to what we have to say!”
The tension in the air was tangible, and hung heavy like a thick layer of smoke, making it hard to breathe. Lord Trenton glanced down at Ildris’s body, nudging her away from him with his foot. Mellan lunged forward, but was held tight by the two men on either side of him. “You’ll die, I’ll KILL YOU!”
Trenton laughed. “Your family sits in this castle, ignoring us when we tell you our land is dying and our crops are failing. Instead of help or compassion, you increase our taxes so you can buy yourself a pretty face to bear your heirs.” He spit on Ildris’s still form, and I covered my mouth with my hands at such blatant disrespect to the dead.
Trenton made a grand gesture to the hall, his voice mocking. “Do you see the men out here? The ones who stand before you, judging you and finding you wanting?”
My gaze followed Mellan’s, and it was horrifying. Most of the noblemen—all the lords and barons—stood, glaring defiantly back at their crown prince. The amount of dead guards and nobles seemed minuscule in comparison. This was no fly-by-night attack; it was a planned assault by nearly every land holder in the kingdom.
Mellan panted, his face pale. “Please, just give me a chance to fix it. You can have whatever you want. Take the gold, take the jewels—”
Trenton snorted. “Oh, we will. And we will build a better kingdom with a king chosen by us, who will represent our needs, and not the interests of the fae.”
Princess Rowan screamed in terror, and the queen fell at Trenton’s feet, her face pressed into the ground. “Kill me! I beg you! Spill my blood on these steps, but please spare the children!”
Trenton’s face took on a slightly disturbed air, and I wondered yet if there was hope. He wouldn’t murder children in cold blood simply to have a clear path to the throne, would he? My heart sank even as I realized it was exactly what he would do.
I watched his expression harden, and dread filled my belly. The queen saw it as well, wailing uncontrollably as Trenton gestured for more men to drag her up to her knees.
He drew his sword, pointing it toward her. “I will at least grant you the mercy of dying first, so you will not have to watch your children suffer.”
My cry was lost in the crowd as he raised the sword just as his men pushed the queen down on all fours, exposing the back of her neck to him. There was a blur of motion as he raised the sword and then brought it down, cleanly cleaving her head from her body. Mellan made a choked, hopeless sound, and his younger siblings screamed in terror. The queen’s body slumped over, her head rolling down the steps and over the form of her husband. Her eyes spun madly, mouth frozen in a rictus of horror. The weeping of the ladies in the middle of the hall increased to a painful level.
After his mother fell, Prince Mellan dove toward his younger siblings. His captors beat him again, not letting up until finally he quit struggling. He was barely conscious as they dropped him on the edge of the dais, but I wondered if that was more of a blessing at this point.
Trenton turned to address the hysterical women huddled in the center of the room. “I know you are upset, but this is necessary for the greater good. Those of you who have lost your husbands will be taken into other households, and married to my most loyal men.”
My mouth dropped open. So that was how Trenton had secured so many men to his side; he’d promised them the fortunes and wives of those murdered! How despicable! I wondered how many even believed in his cause—or just went along with it for the spoils.
Anger warred with panic as all the cryptic pieces came together to form a horrible picture.Gregory was in on it; that’s why he told you not to worry about Cadgan!The nausea returned, and I prayed it was just a sick coincidence. I knew better, though, because I knew Gregory. He’d been my best friend of my life, but he’d always been ambitious and quick to do anything to advance his station. Like most young men, he dreamt of being more than a baron’s youngest son.
Trenton pointed his sword toward Mellan. “I will grant you the same mercy I did your mother.”
“Burn in hell, you goat fucker!” Mellan raged. The guards dragged him forward before Trenton, and I forced myself to watch. The crown prince fought to stay conscious and flailed like a wild animal, but they were too strong for him.
“IF I HAD MY MAGICK, THIS WOULDN’T HAPPEN! YOU WOULD ALL BE DEAD! YOU WOULD ALL—”
Trenton slammed the hilt of his sword down on Mellan’s head, cutting off his diatribe.
“Do not speak that word here! Your heathen blood is why this land is cursed!” Trenton turned to the crowd, his eyes alight with a dangerous fire. “We must cleanse the bloodline to cleanse the land!”
