Richelle Mead - Iron Crowned

“Drop the spell,” I said to Imanuelle, without looking at her. I wanted to be face-to-face with Katrice, and honestly, it wasn’t like my identity was a secret anymore. I felt another tingle, and a few gasps told me I wore my own form now. A small, tight smile crossed Katrice’s lips.

“Yes,” she continued, “you could unleash a storm here. You could destroy a large part of this wall, this castle. You could most certainly destroy all these people—which is what you’re good at, right? You put on this lofty pose about protecting lives, yet somehow, death always follows you. You leave it in your wake, just as Tirigan did. But at least he had no delusions about what he was doing.”

The comparison to my father increased the anger in me. The weather mirrored my reaction, the sky growing darker and the air pressure intensifying.

“Go ahead,” said Katrice. “Show me your storm.”

“You don’t have to kill them,” said Jasmine beside me, voice low. “Just her.”

Was she right? Was that all it would take? I could kill Katrice, no question. One unexpected bolt of lightning, and she’d be gone. If memory served, her magic was similar to Shaya’s: a connection and control with plant-life. As a queen, someone with the ability to conquer a land, Katrice possessed that power to levels that dwarfed Shaya’s. It was probably why the trees and plants here were so beautiful. It was also probably why we hadn’t been attacked yet. This inner courtyard around the castle was cleared land, hard-packed dirt that facilitated travel for guards, merchants, and other visitors. If we’d been outside the walls, I would have likely had a forest marching on me by now.

“You can do that too,” said Katrice, still trying to bait me. I couldn’t tell if she was simply attempting to prolong her life or trying to catch me off guard for some other attack. “Kill me in cold blood. Just like you did my son. It’s in your nature.”

“It’s not cold blood in wartime,” I growled. “And your son deserved it. He was a weak, cowardly bastard who had to lie and drug women to get what he wanted.”

This made her flinch slightly, but she didn’t hesitate to return the arrow. “But he did get what he wanted. He got you. He couldn’t have been that weak.”

Those words stung, but before I could respond, a young man slipped into place beside her. His resemblance was so strong to her and Leith that there could be no question of his identity: Cassius, her nephew. The rage within me doubled. Seeing him reminded me of what he’d most likely done to Jasmine. My reason was slipping, replaced by pure fury.

“You should have let this go,” I told Katrice, my voice perfectly level. “You should have accepted Leith’s death as punishment for what he did. An even slate. Lives have been lost because of you. More will be now.”

One bolt. One bolt, and she was dead. Hell, I could probably take out Cassius with it too.

“Eugenie,” said Kiyo. “Don’t. Don’t do it.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” I breathed, out of the others’ earshot.

“I warned you before there would be consequences. Please listen to me this time,” he begged. “There will be again.”

“What do you expect me to do?” My voice was louder. I didn’t care who heard. “This is wartime. I kill their leader. I win. Otherwise, I let hell loose in here, and these people die. Which do you want, Kiyo? Pick—or else find another way.”

He didn’t respond, but Katrice’s tight smile grew at seeing dissent within my ranks. “No options but death. You are Tirigan’s daughter. I’m glad now that Leith didn’t get you with child. His plan seemed wise at first, but it’s better my exalted bloodline isn’t mingled with yours—though the gods know how much Leith tried. He told me about it. Often. Ah, well. I suppose we’ll know soon how Cassius fared …”

Her gaze lingered slightly on Jasmine beside me. Imanuelle had dropped all our disguises.

“Eugenie—” Jasmine tried to speak, but I didn’t want to listen.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I demanded of Katrice. Each word was harsh, almost impossible to get out. I was changing my mind about the lightning. I was remembering how I’d killed Aeson, literally blowing him apart by ripping the water from his body. There were so many ways to kill her, so many ways to bring about humiliation.

Katrice gave a small shrug, and despite that smug attitude, I saw a pang of regret in her eyes. “I have a feeling I’ll die one way or another today. I just want everyone to know the truth about you before I do.”

I froze. I’d told Kiyo to give me another option, and he’d had none. But there was one other.

“The truth,” I said slowly, reaching toward my backpack, “is that you aren’t going to die today. But you’ll wish you had.”

I can only assume what happened next was born out of pure emotion, out of the anger and despair her words about me and Jasmine had evoked. Situational adrenaline probably played a role too, and … well, maybe there was something in my genes after all.

I pulled the Iron Crown from my backpack. Katrice turned white, all cockiness gone. Those who recognized the crown displayed similar fear, audible and visible. Others just stared curiously.

“No,” she gasped. “No. Please don’t.”

I think until that moment, she hadn’t truly believed I had the crown. I also think that had I demanded it, she would’ve named whatever terms of surrender I wanted. But I didn’t want simple surrender. I wanted suffering. I wanted her to suffer, just as I had.

So many ways to bring about humiliation …

I placed the crown on my head, and somehow—maybe it was part of its magic—I knew exactly what to do. The iron athame was still in my hand, and I crouched down with it. Katrice dropped to her knees too, but it was in supplication.

“Please,” she begged again, tears in her eyes. “Anything. I’ll do anything you want.”

“You’re right,” I said. “You will.”

I slammed the blade down—and pierced the land’s heart.

It really felt like that, like I was killing a living thing. And in a way, I was. I was destroying the land’s connection to Katrice. The land and its monarch are one. Kind of an esoteric concept … but, well, the truth. I’d certainly felt it in the Thorn Land. It was why I couldn’t ever stay away from that kingdom for very long. It called to me. It was part of me.

And so, I was essentially cutting a living thing in two. White-hot power burned through me as I did, the crown’s magic connecting with my own and pouring into the dirt below. I had little sense of my surroundings, save Katrice screaming. Below me, in a spiritual sort of way, I could feel the land resisting at first. It didn’t want to break its ties. In the end, it had no choice. The crown’s magic was too strong. Seconds, minutes, hours … I don’t know how long it took, probably hardly any time at all. But suddenly, it was done. The crown’s power faded from me, and the land lay there open and unclaimed. Raw and wounded.

As the magic’s haze wore off, the rest of the world slowly shifted back into focus for me. I stared around at the gaping faces and at Katrice, huddled and sobbing. I thought she’d aged before, but it was nothing compared to now. Being ripped from the land had devastated her. Her dark hair was almost all gray now, her face gaunt and lined.

And all around … all around, the land was restless. I could feel its energy, calling out … reaching out … yearning for a new master. Hardly any of the people gathered showed any recognition of this. They were still watching the drama of me and Katrice. A few spectators had puzzled looks on their faces, as though they too could hear the land.