Page 13 of Crown of Hearts
How the Darwicks knew was beyond me. It didn’t matter. I was sinking into much deeper trouble than I thought. The only thing the aristocracy hated more than a young and weak queen was the bandit who had troubled them for years.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Deny. Deny. Deny.
“I don’t make idle threats,” he said, and my mind raced, trying to come up with something to say.
The servant girl moved suddenly, coming towards us.
“Neither do I. It’s your word against mine.” I didn’t want him to see that I was scared. Couldn’t let him know he currently possessed the upper hand.
“Unless you marry someone more powerful, you’re out of choices, I’m afraid. And since nobody is lining up, I dare say you will be mine.”
The servant girl was behind him now. She tossed the broom to the side and pulled out a kitchen knife. I watched in shock as she pushed Edgar out of the way and came straight for me.
I moved quickly, my eyes focused on the long silver blade. Taking a step back, I almost tripped on the hem of my dress. Stupid dresses that didn’t have any places to keep weapons in them.
“You should never have taken the crown,” she spat out, hair slightly rough, her freckled face filled with disgust.
“You don’t belong on the throne.” She came at me, and I barely missed her jab to my stomach. Who’d sent her? Who did she answer to? I couldn’t process the thought of an assassin in my palace.
“Rhen, guards!” I shouted, watching for her next move.
Edgar stammered, mouth opening and closing stupidly. Instead of trying to help me, he stepped away.
“You’re not a real queen.”
“Enough,” I told the servant girl. I doubted I would be able to talk sense into her. There was too much hatred in her eyes. If only I had something on me to protect myself.
“You shouldn’t have come here.” She attempted to stab me again and I jumped out of the way. In desperation, I took the crown from my head and used it to try to knock the dagger from her hand. But the young girl’s grip was strong and her motivation more than ample. I dodged her left and right, while realising a pearly crown was not the most practical weapon. The doors burst open as Rhen and a few palace guards entered. It was only in this moment that Edgar decided to step in and help by grabbing her from behind. She kicked and thrashed, blade flashing, almost cutting him before the guards grabbed hold of her and held her hands behind her back. She continued to scream profanities as two of the guards dragged her out. As I had once been dragged out of the very same throne room. I shuddered, breathing deeply. Blood pumped wildly through my veins.
“You’re bleeding.” I flinched when Rhen touched my skin. The girl had managed to nick my arm, but I was shaking too much to take notice.
“Come on.” He led me by my other arm. “We’ll get a physician to look at that.”
“No.” I pulled away. “I’ll do it myself. Have someone see the Darwicks out.”
We both knew the best thing was to have a physician attend to the wound rather than add another ghastly scar to my skin. But Rhen also knew better than to argue with me. We hurried back to my rooms. He kept looking left and right, his body shielding me. I walked into my chambers with a few men standing guard outside.
“I need to go and deal with what just happened downstairs,” Rhen said. It had been a long time since I’d seen him this shaken, though he was trying his best to not show it.
“The Darwicks?” I looked in the mirror at the small trail of blood running down my arm.
“The girl. Someone just tried to assassinate you.” Right.
“What are you going to do with her?” I turned to face him.
“She committed an act of treason,” he said, as if I didn’t know.
“She’s just a child, Rhen. She doesn’t know any better.” And yet, Rhen was right. She had just tried to kill me. Beyond the hate, I saw something in her eyes that I used to recognise in my own. Desperation. She had done nothing that I wouldn’t have likely done, not so long ago.
Rhen met my eyes.
“I will interrogate her. Maybe she isn’t the only one inside the palace.”
I nodded and he left the room, allowing me to catch my breath. My heart was pounding, and for the first time in a long time, I realised that I was afraid... truly afraid.
I tossed the crown onto the bed before dragging my fingers through my hair. I wanted to be sick. My arm was still bleeding, and the pain of the cut started to settle in. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?
