Book Two of The Usurper's Queen Series
The kingdom is slowly dividing itself into different factions. The people's true faces are being exposed in the race of wealth and glory.
And in the heart of it all is Anne, Duchess of Cindertrappe. The promise...
In the darkened hallway, Edmund could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, and they came closer and closer towards him.
He gripped the hilt of his sword and cautiously advanced forward. Soon, he realised that it was not just a pair of footsteps. Rather, there were dozens of pairs.
Then, he could see a face emerge from the darkness, and his heart quickly lurched. It was Anne, running as fast as she could, and her golden silk dress was stained with splotches of dark red blood.
"Anne !" he yelled out and ran forward towards her, and when his arms were around her, she melted into his embrace and fell silent, though Edmund could sense her erratic heartbeat.
"Are you alright, Anne? Are you hurt ?" he questioned briskly, but Anne only shook her head slowly.
Edmund lowered his gaze downwards, and he saw Anne's left hand, which was all coated with sticky red blood, and tightly gripped in her fingers was a single golden hairpin.
Gently, he pried her hand open, but there was no open wound anywhere. That was when he realised that the blood on her dress was not her own.
Then, the footsteps from earlier came closer and closer, like a horde of horses running across an open field. But then, they abruptly stopped.
And Edmund knew why. At the front of the group was the Marquis of Lockebel, his face frozen in fear and terror, just like a little boy that was caught stealing apples from the orchard.
As Edmund held the trembling Anne in his arms, he made his mind up. He had promised himself not to, but now it seems that there is no other option left.
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The golden sun reigned supreme in the blue horizon, blinding those who dared to look at it. The dark clouds of yesterday had dissipated after a frenzied torrential downpour, leaving nothing behind but a pristine, clear cornflower sky.
Periwinkles sprung from the green bushes that surrounded the palace, and when I looked down from my balcony that summer morning, all I saw underneath was a frenzy of pale purple and light blues.
It is a beautiful day. In fact, I think there had never been such a lovely day before.
Tomorrow, the east will mourn, but the south shall celebrate.
Two days ago, the court had made its verdict. Those twenty eastern lords who dared to trespass the palace and threaten me with death were put on trial and found guilty.
My father barely had to intervene.
In the end, all twenty lords were to be stripped of their titles and be put to death, including that red-bearded lord whose neck I stabbed with my hairpin. Their families were reduced to mere commoners, and anyone who tried to fight against the verdict given would meet the same fate.
