Page 55 of Pieces of Halves

“Thank you for the faith,” I say, feeling the weight of the job I have ahead of me.

They seem to believe in my ability, but I struggle to see the difference I would be able to make. My father ruled the land of Sarkup for forty years. His people are loyal to him. Will they accept someone who was always in the shadows?

“Of course, your majesty.” He nods with a playful grin.

Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. From the corner of my eye, I see Jacob slump back and look out of the window. There has been a lot of commotion over the last few days. Getting everything ready for me to take over my father’s throne and scheming ways to get Sofia's followers out has taken a lot of resources and time.

Jacob was always there, supporting me. He is my rock. Without him by my side, I would crumble. My body aches to reach out and take his hand, but with everyone else around, I keep them to myself. He seems to be at ease knowing Yanuk is there to keep me safe, but behind his well-composed demeanor, there is something weighing him down. He is quieter than usual.

I want to make it better for him. For that, I need power and resources. He needs a library with great records to find his lineage. Sarkup may not have one, but I know for a fact, myfather was obsessed with everyone who had power. If I gain power and ask around, I can help him.

“Keep reading. Solidify your knowledge.” Jorgan gives me a firm look. “Your father’s men will try to push you out, but you know that the people will not want another tyrant. The throne is rightfully yours. Do not forget that.” His stormy eyes bare deep into mine.

This is for the people.Nodding, I take in his confidence.

The castle is the same as I remember it. The gloomy gray stones are as they were when I left, yet somehow, it feels different –Ifeel different. I’m not that scared, clueless little girl anymore. The grand statues of naked gods and water fountains stand tall as we make our way to the entrance. Jacob walks next to me, his shoulders square and eyes always scanning. Jorgan and Yanuk are behind me, but I can feel their tension. Just like me, they don’t trust anyone.

The two guards wearing decorative red uniforms eye us and open the doors without waiting for us to pause, swinging them open effortlessly. My heart speeds up, but I do not falter.

Never let them see your fear.Those were the words Jorgan has been drilling into my brain for the last few days.They will feed on it. Holding my head high and keeping my steps even, I move along the wide hallway, which is filled with paintings I remember well.

Inhaling, I steady my breathing. The hall opens to a spacious room that is occasionally used for balls and smaller parties. It is empty, and the floor is shined and cleaned to perfection. Memories of my childhood come back. When myfather was not around, and Alexander threw parties, it was fun – those were happy times.

Now, there’s a group of twenty men standing on the other side of it –waiting for me. They turn to us when my shoes click against the wood, and I suddenly feel sick. How am I supposed to stand up to them? I am just a twenty-year-old girl who wants to study plants.

Never underestimate the power of lineage. No matter what, the throne is rightfully yours.Jorgan said those words so firmly that I had no choice but to believe him.

“Good evening,” I state as I make my way closer, my voice confident and head held high.Assert your dominance first. Another rule Jorgan made sure I repeated every few minutes during the ride here. “Most of you know me, but just in case, I am Isabella Vitorovna Bolkov, Queen of Sarkup.”

“Not queen yet,” someone says and my head snaps towards the sound.

They will try to get under your skin. Jorgan’s voice echoes in my head. I was getting a little annoyed at how repetitive Jorgan was, but right now, I could not be more grateful. Palms sweating, I keep my composure.

“Are you planning my death?” I ask, my gaze cold and calculated.

I have not met the older man before, but his brown eyes widen and his lips twitch into a barely noticeable scowl.

“Of course not.” He finally responds, his pale face contorting with displeasure.

“I am the queen. Coronations are just formalities. We all know that.” I speak and run my eyes through my group, committing them all to memory. “I expect full cooperation.There will be meetings held in the next few days. I want everyone to have their reports ready and written out in detail,” I state, my voice carrying confidence I do not feel.

My eyes land on Nickolas, my father’s cousin. He has not changed much in the last year. Like always, his black hair is closely cut, and his red jacket is perfectly tailored to his slim form. His glare and precise appearance are meant to intimidate, but I am tired of fearing men.

“What happened to Alexander?” Nickolas asks, his face void of emotion. He was always good at that, though –being distant and hiding his true feelings, whatever they may be.

My heart cracks a bit, and I almost break. Alexander was good to me. He may have been ruthless in business, but he protected and treated me like his daughter. He was the reason I once had a good life.

“Victor killed him,” I state, staring directly into his hazel eyes.

“To save your life, I heard.” He tilts his head to the side slightly.

“No, to use me.” I glare at him.

“You ran away. Why come back for the throne?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

My jaw clenches and my chest burns.

“Yes, I did run. I did not have to tolerate my father’s abuse to be worthy of my place,” I respond. The men’s eyes go wide, aghast at my honest response. How dare I call the deceased king an abuser? I scoff. “Let’s not pretend that my father was a kind man.”

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