Curse of the Undead Dragon King (Skeleton Key) (12 page)

I STAND ON THE
balcony looking out over the city and bite my lip, trying to keep from crying. A riot has broken out and all the castle guards are trying to restore order, but the people will not hear of it. Their king has been gone too long. And with my speedy recovery, they have accused me of being a threat, killing the king for his riches, his castle, and his kingdom. How they could think such a thing, I may never know, but my heart is breaking as I realize that if Aurelio doesn’t return, I will have to go into hiding, leave the city, and never return. The people wouldn’t never allow me to rule. Not now.

Someone has spread a nasty lie, and it has cost me everything. Castel steps up beside me and wraps his around my shoulder. “It’s all right, my dear. Things will calm down, and Aurelio will return. He must.”

I turn to him, anger filling me. “What if he doesn’t? What if this is how the kingdom ends? And for what? A curse we know nothing about? How can it be that we allow the people to fight, to call us liars, when we promised to protect the kingdom?” I pick up my skirts and walk through the doors, and down the steps as fast as I can.

I keep my head high as I stride with a mission in mind, with purpose. Renewed energy at seeing the people turn on us so quickly, at lies being told to them.

Even now the castle staff watches me as I go by, probably wondering whether or not they should believe the rumors.

Whoever could think I would kill Aurelio to take over his kingdom is certainly mad. And that’s exactly what I plan on telling them.

I step out into the courtyard, passing men as they fight, whether with their fists or their voices. Many people stop their bickering to watch me. I keep walking, continuing toward the town square where hopefully everyone will hear me out.

When I reach the cobblestone path, I go straight for the fountain. Stepping up on the ledge, I let my voice be heard.

“Enough!” I scream, getting attention. Men stop fighting mid-punch. Jaws slack, eyes wide, they all look at me, some changing from their dragon forms, swooping down and landing beside the fountain to listen.

“I do not know who has spread such ugly rumors, but I am here to put your hearts at ease. Listen to me. I did not kill your king, nor did I harm him. If I had wished to take over the kingdom, certainly I would have married Aurelio first to gain the crown. I was asked to help keep watch over the land while Aurelio could not. It was a trial of sorts as well, to show me what being queen is like, to teach me more about what I would do here at the castle after marrying the love of my life. If you so easily accuse me of such horrid crimes, if you so vehemently do not wish me to be your queen, then say it. Make it known to me—not through rumors, lies, fighting, not through destroying everything in this kingdom. Tell me with your words, to my face, that you do not want me to be your queen, and I will make it so. But by dragon fire, this all ends now. The chaos is over. No more will we fight with one another. Do you hear me? Do you understand me?” I look around, searching their faces, daring them to pick up where they left off.

“How can we trust you as our queen when the king’s council members are the ones informing us that you’re taking over, that Aurelio is already gone, dead, not sick in bed at all?” someone yells.

My heart hammers against my ribcage as I repeat those words in my head. The council? I look at the man who shouted. “Who told you those lies?” My voice has grown cold and hard.

I step down from the fountain and approach the man, people parting and creating a path for me as I walk toward him. He begins to tremble, fidgeting as he tries to find words.

“Who told you those lies?” I ask louder now.

“Elder Waylon, Your Highness.” A woman beside the man steps forward, concern in her eyes. She curtsies.

“Elder Waylon said this? He told you I killed the king?” I spin around slowly, looking at the people all around me, more filling in the gaps, getting closer so they can hear what’s being said.

A few of them nod.

“These are false!” I storm through the crowd, marching straight for the castle, right to Castel. He has to know.

Gasps rise from the crowd but I don’t look back to find out why.

Someone catches my wrist, pulling me back. I turn, ready to fight off anyone who dares touch me. But when I meet the man’s golden eyes, I can’t say anything at all. Tears begin to well up, and when I find air to breathe once more, I fling my arms around his neck.

“You’re alive! You’re alive and home!” I sob into his neck as I hold him against me, unable to let him go.

“As I promised I would be,” Aurelio whispers in my ear.

WATCHING ZANTA STAND
on the fountain, demanding to be listened to, I can’t bring myself to interrupt her. I watch in awe as she addresses the people, commanding respect by earning it. What I hear astounds me. How could anyone believe for even a moment that she was trying to take over the kingdom? To hear that the rumors were spread by one of my very own council members is a shock.

When Zanta rushes through the crowd, most likely running to get Castel and stop Waylon, I reach out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to me.

Waylon can wait. This moment cannot, for it’s been a week since I’ve seen the woman I love, and a moment longer is too much time to waste. Her eyes widen as she takes me in, not sure if she’s really seeing me at all.

I embrace her, holding her to me, never wanting to let go.

“You’re alive! You’re alive and home!” Her tears fall onto my neck. 

“As I promised I would be,” I whisper in her ear.

“Thank you.” She kisses my jaw, burying her face against me.

“Thank you, love.” I rock us back and forth for a moment, unable to let go of her despite the need to speak with Castel immediately.

“We have to talk to your uncle,” she whispers, still not moving away from me.

“I know. I heard your whole speech, but that doesn’t mean I’m any more willing to let you go.”

“Aurelio, please explain to me what is going on,” Jarlan interrupts.

I turn around to face him, still holding on to Zanta, though she turns a bit to see who I’m speaking to. “Jarlan, this is the woman who owns my heart. She is the foremost reason I could never have given up my life here for that of Itrummortui, my soon-to-be bride, Zanta.”

At the mention of her name, she straightens standing a little taller as she wipes some of the tears from her eyes. I rub my thumb over her cheek, catching the few she missed. “It is a great honor to meet you, my dear.” Jarlan takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it before bowing graciously.

“Oh, no need to do that. I am not royalty.” She blushes.

“My dear, royalty or not, you have saved me and Aurelio from a terrible fate, and for that, there are no thanks enough that I could give you. You are a rare gift, a true queen, and you will be the greatest gift to this kingdom.”

“I don’t know what you mean about saving both of you, but I must return to a mission I was on before this dear man surprised me.” She looks at me for a moment, and I’m content to stare at nothing else the rest of my life. But she turns back to Jarlan. “Thank you for your kindness, but please allow me to go stop a traitor from trying to ruin me.”

My hand in hers, Zanta once again makes her way through the crowd. I look behind us to make sure Jarlan is following before devoting my full attention to keeping up with Zanta, who doesn’t stop until we’re on the castle steps. Only then does she slow, and only so the guards can open the doors for us.

People give us odd looks, mostly watching me as we pass them which I assume has something to do with rumors of my true love killing me for the throne. But I simply remind myself to ask Zanta once we’ve found Waylon and discovered why he would lie to the people about Zanta and her intentions.

I let go of Zanta’s hand, storming down the corridor until I’ve reached Waylon’s private quarters. I don’t bother knocking, and the scene that plays out—him jumping out of his chair, papers flying everywhere, his wide-eyed expression of panic as he realizes what’s happening—would be quite comical if not for the fact that I’m resisting the urge to kill him.

“Speak. Now,” I demand.

“I—I—I—” he stammers, looking at me and then Zanta, back and forth to the point that he must be getting dizzy.

“No, let me speak.” Zanta steps up beside me. “I want to know why you lied. Why you accused me of doing terrible things I could never do. I want the truth, Waylon. What could you possibly gain by making the kingdom hate me in an already difficult situation?” She rubs at her cheeks, brushing away stray tears.

Waylon now stands, clearing his throat and running his hands over his clothes, smoothing them out as he collects himself.

“I do not know what you mean, commoner, but how dare you accuse me, a member of the king’s council, your elder, of such treachery?” he huffs.

“There are witnesses to your evil ways, Waylon. And while you may be older, you are not above Zanta in any way. She is my mate, my true love. I chose her to be your queen, to help rule this kingdom, and you have made the people hate her. I demand to know why.”

Waylon glares, first at Zanta and then at me. “You want an answer?” He growls. “I’ll tell you. I have been on this council for hundreds of years. I was loyal to this kingdom, and despite that, your father disrespected me every chance he got. He made one mistake after another, never heeding my words. And after he finally died—by dragon fire, I thought he never would—we got you, and you are no better. Marrying a commoner? This is not a free-for-all. You may be king, but you do not get to decide things that affect the kingdom without listening to anyone else. And you—”

I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “What do you mean, you thought my father would never die? He was young. He should have lived another hundred years at least.” I take a step toward him.

“Your father should have died a hundred years ago when he went to the city of the undead. He should have died when I sent dragons to destroy the villages. At least that task wasn’t completely useless, as it got rid of the wretched queen. Your father should have died long before you came to be. When he said his good-byes, it took all of my power not to shout for joy. The poison took far longer than it should have.” Waylon spits at my feet, angry, far too confident in his words, as if he thinks he could ever get away with any of this.

Hatred boils within me, and more than anything, I wish to roast this lying scum. But instead, I yank my arm back and punch him in the gut. “After the horrendous things you’ve done, how dare you talk about my parents like that? You killed them as you would kill me, and you will pay!”

“Aurelio!” Zanta screams, but I barely hear her over the pounding in my ears.

“Stop!” she yells again. Her hand closes over my fist, stopping me from hitting Waylon again, who’s now on the floor taking the punches, not even bothering to fight back.

“This is not you,” she says, her eyes filled with sadness. “I will send for the magistrate.”

I stand and take calming breaths, hardly able to focus on anything but the bloody mess beneath me.

“Why, Waylon? Tell me why you could possibly have reason to do all this.”

“Because—” He coughs up blood before rising and standing before me. “Your family does not deserve to rule. For too long, your bloodline has sat on the throne, making stupid decisions. Marrying commoners from the street, changing policies, disbanding the council full of members who have been loyal. Again and again, my wealth and status have been threatened because you and your father haven’t agreed with me, and it is something I cannot take any longer. I deserve better. I deserve the crown. I could rule the people with a mighty fist!” 

I let myself take a moment to figure out what to say simply so I don’t beat him again. “You could have had so much more, but it is because of you that your title and wealth will be stripped from you. Only because of your actions will you live out the rest of your long, painful life in a dungeon cell rather than your large estate. It is true—you would no longer have been on my council, but you could have easily found a position elsewhere.” 

“Do not do this, Aurelio. You have no right. I am trying to protect this kingdom.” He stomps his foot like a child not getting the toy he wants. 

“You think setting dragons to destroy the village is protecting the kingdom? You think poisoning the king is protecting the kingdom? Or what of lying about the future queen?”

“A queen who does not deserve the crown!” he wails.

“It is because of your traitorous acts that I even met Zanta. Had you never set out to destroy this kingdom, I might never have known her, and she would not be your queen. But we did meet because my mother died saving her from your mistakes, and now you will have to live with that. It is not up to you who I marry or who rules this kingdom. Certainly, it will not be you, ever.”

As I explain this, a look of utter shame and horror fills his eyes. “But . . . but . . .” is all he can say as he thinks it over.

“Guards! Take him to the dungeons,” I say sharply.

Two men walk in and bind Waylon before marching him away. I run my hand over my face and try to think of happier things, like perhaps the woman beside me.

I turn and look her in the eyes. “I am so sorry you had to hear that. He had no right to think you weren’t deserving of the crown,” I say, rubbing her arms, trying to warm the goose bumps.

She looks at the floor beside me as if ashamed. “It’s all right.” Then she meets my gaze. “I believe I’ve deserved the crown at this point.” She grins. “After all, I did just run the kingdom for a week.”

“Well…” I tilt my head as if truly thinking on it. “The people
were
rioting when I returned.”

“Yes, they also believed you to be dead by my hand,” she states plainly.

“I suppose that’s true. Very well, I believe you earned it as well.” I kiss her forehead.

“As do I,” Castel says from behind us. We both turn to find him standing in the doorway. “She has proven herself strong, willing, smart, kind, and most importantly, able to put up with me. I believe she will make a great queen.”

Zanta’s cheeks turn red. “Thank you.”

“Thank
you
,” Castel says to her. “For proving me wrong in every way.”

“It was my pleasure.” She curtsies.

“Indeed. Now, do we not have a wedding to prepare?” he asks.