“You question the very legitimacy of the crown,” the queen barks, clearly displeased they haven’t yet agreed with her.
“Yes,” they say as one.
“Then, we will go to the tribunal,” I blurt out.
The room goes quiet, and all attention narrows in on me. I blink quickly because, in truth, I hadn’t expected myself to be bold enough to speak. Even so, I hold my head high.
Jarron repeats my words in High Orizian and then adds, “We request a formal trial. If you will not take our word, as you have for every previous ruler for the last eon, then we will do what we must to prove our legitimacy.”
“And if you are found lacking?”
“Then, my mate and I will leave. My priority will always lie with her, not the throne. Not the people of Oriziah.”
I suck in a quick breath. Doesn’t that sound bad? For a future ruler to say he doesn’t prioritize his people?
No,Laithe answers. It is expected. Dedication to your mate is what proves a High Orizian worthy of ruling.
“We will find happiness together elsewhere, and my title will fall to my brother,” Jarron continues as if my internal comment never happened. “But mark my words, this conflict will not end with me. If you rule on the side of the rebels, you will destabilize the very structure of this world. Vandozer, and those who follow his blasphemous words, will continue undermining the royal family’s right to rule.”
“Your brother has long since earned his right to rule,” one witch spits. To earn your chosen is to earn your right to rule. Trevor claimed his mate early.
“And why do you think Princess Beatrice is not here? Because she too is wrapped up in this conspiracy. She is—” He stops himself from incriminating her. Trevor’s wings ruffle, unsettled. If Jarron blames Bea for the target on myself and my sister, he will forever sully her name and continue to damage the trust in the royal family. “She too is trapped, manipulated by an evil man seeking to destroy our way of life. He has betrayed the very soul of Oriziah, but he will not succeed. I will prove that my demon soul is strong and devoted to its chosen mate, Candice Montgomery.”
The ground rattles, and I suck in a breath.
Jarron stills, his eyes wide. I feel the uncertainty that washes through him, as well as my own fear.
“Jarron?”
An explosion shakes the walls around us, and a roar rips from Jarron’s lips.
In an instant, I am in his arms. The world around me is nothing but spinning shadows and shouts of fear and anger. I can’t tell what is up or down as Jarron carries me out of the palace. Then, the cold air sucks the breath from my lungs, and I am in the air, in the arms of the demon taking me high above the city now filled with fire and smoke.
48
Aftershocks
Jarron doesn’t stop until he reaches the portal high above the clouds and stumbles onto the hard, flat floor of Shadow Hills.
“What was that?” I pant the moment he sets my feet on the ground. The crowds who had been cheering for me just minutes before were pressing in on the palace walls.
“The first attack,” he says through gritted teeth. “They waited until the moment you arrived to make their first move.”
“Is everyone okay? What happened to the meeting?”
He’s pacing in front of me, wings splayed, hands clenching in and out. “They are fine. The attack did nothing more than minor damage to the lower level of the palace. It was a message.”
A message. That they chose to send as soon as I arrived.
“What does it mean? That the people didn’t accept me?”
“No,” he growls, although I can feel the half-truth in the word. “It means it isn’t enough.”
Presenting me as his chosen is not enough to prove his worth to the people now that this character has been questioned. We knew this was a possibility, but it was terrifying to see it first hand nonetheless.
Bea was right. Jarron declaring a chosen is not enough to settle the rebels. Too many believe in Mr. Vandozer’s claims. Too many doubt the royal family.
“Shouldn’t you go back?” I ask.
