Eyes Like The Ocean | A Culled Crown Novella

Chapter 15

Oredison Palace, Gazda.

Four days after the poisoning.

The prince made a sound, a sort of outraged cry, but it was silenced by Viera blurting—"I beg your pardon?"

The man held up a hand to keep them both quiet and said, "You agreed on your day of announcement that, if you were to survive the Culling, you would take up your rightful place as queen."

Malcolm spoke through clenched teeth, "She didn't survive the Culling. There was no Culling."

The man nodded. "That may be true, but since she is the last goddess-touched girl, the crown still falls to her."

"Like hell it does."

Viera swallowed. "But, I can't—I don't want to be queen."

One of the Synod members snorted. "My dear girl, it's too late for that."

"Regardless of how you ended up in this position," The Speaker of the Synod said, "you are the only marked girl left standing. Erydia is, regrettably, in need of a sovereign. And you—"

"No." Viera shook her head.

For once, Malcolm agreed with her. "I'll kill her myself before I let her sit on my mother's throne."

Panic began to set in.

"I'm afraid it isn't your mother's throne anymore," the man said. "And it is not yours to decide."

She could feel Malcolm's eyes on her now, felt that sweltering hatred hiss against her skin. The room swayed as she realized what exactly was happening. She pressed the backs of her fingers to her lips as her mouth began to water. Viera was going to be sick. She would be sick in front of all of these people.

Viera shook her head. Over and over again she shook her head.

No. No, this wasn't happening. She wasn't going to be locked her forever with him. With Malcolm. That couldn't be—she couldn't be—

The prince stepped forward; his fists clenched at his side. "So, she kills my family—all the people I love—and you're going to crown her queen because of it?"

This felt like a dream, a nightmare. She needed to wake up. Wake up right now.

"These are the laws—"

"Then change the damn laws," Malcolm yelled.

She looked at the throne in front of her.

The Synod member held out a hand, palm out, towards the prince. As if he were trying to calm a frightened horse and not an irate man. "I understand that this is a shock to you," he glanced to Viera, who was still looking at that throne, "to both of you," he said. "But people are already beginning to grow restless. There is talk of doing away with the royal family and our ruling system."

Another of the men added, "Prince, if you intend to keep your kingdom, you will need to make allowances."

He was shaking with rage. "No. This isn't an allowance—it's treason. What she's done—"

"Is terrible. Unforgivable." One of them said, "But we need a queen and the goddess has left us with only one choice."

Malcolm shoved a finger in Viera's direction. "I will not marry her and I will sure as hell never bow to her."

"If you want to save your kingdom and your throne, you will."

The room fell silent.

Malcolm opened and closed his mouth. Viera felt the eyes in the room shift to her. They were all waiting for her to speak, as if she had something of value to say. She couldn't make herself look at anyone, especially not Malcolm.