Of Blood and Roses

Chapter 46

I never thought I would be queen.

It was something that had always been Blanche's. Something I might have privately harboured, but never admitted out load. Today was the day of my coronation, and despite how I found myself with the new title, I knew I was the best person to rule Rosailles at this time. Because Garnette and Rosailles were back at war, and this time Rosailles called for blood.

And the Angels told me this was right.

I could see them now, hear them clearly. Most of all, my Angel. I did not know their name, but I knew their voice—their all-seeing eyes. As I prepared, alone in my chambers, I saw their shadow shifting in the mirror behind me. Always there. Always watching. Warmth bloomed through me.

That was all I needed. Things had changed ever since that day in the great hall when I had separated my enemies' hearts from my soldiers'. When I had eviscerated all of them with a squeeze of my fists. People looked at me differently now. I considered my image in the mirror as I styled my hair. I dismissed all my handmaids, unable to listen to the frantic beat of their nervous hearts as they tended to me. I understood why they feared me. What I had done had been brutal and violent. But so was what the Garnetti had done to our home, my people...my family.

I bit the inside of my mouth. I couldn't think about them. I couldn't think about him. His absence lingered outside my door, like a gaping hole in my life. No one knew what had happened down in the chamber.

I preferred to forget about it myself.

Even as I tried, a wave of nausea rolled through me. I placed my hands over my stomach, sucking in breaths. This had been coming and going for days now. The nausea. The cramping pain that sometimes accompanied my monthly bleeding.

The problem was, I couldn't remember the last time I had bled. I ran my hands down my still smooth stomach, swallowing as saliva built in my mouth.

"You know you must accept it, my sweet," said the Angel behind me. They, too, had been saying this for days now. I sensed their smile, though I could still not see it. Even in the dim grey light streaming into my room, the shadows clung to them. "Your legacy must live on, one way or another."

I stood from the chair, finally getting a hold on the nauseous wave. I sucked in a shaky breath. Out in the hall a steady, determined heartbeat approached. A heartbeat I knew well.

I straightened my clothes. "We have company," I said softly.

The Angel frowned. "That woman interferes. She will distract you."

Nerves fluttered through me as I double-checked my appearance. I was mostly unchanged, it was only when I used my Gift that my eyes turned black and blood ran in tears down my face. However, my new wings on remained my back. I had cleaned them, painstakingly as they still felt quite tender, so they now fluttered proudly behind me, a soft flume of feathers brushing my shoulders.

To honor my sister, I'd had new robes made since our mother's old ceremonial dress had been destroyed when the palace was ransacked. They matched my wings, silky and white, with golden roses embroidered into the bodice. I had pulled my hair back off my forehead, twisting and pinning it so it sat high on my head in the way I had seen my handmaids do many times before—though to be fair, it had been difficult with my unpracticed hands. I covered up the flaws with white roses.

My sister had been taken from us. I would now pursue her vengeance. First, I needed to be crowned. I took in my appearance. I poked and prodded, looking for the vulnerable girl beneath. She was there but buried deep. I pressed my lips together. If I was not careful, Sabine would find her.

There was a knock at the door. I sat and flattened my hands down my skirts to smooth them. I lifted my chin.

"You may come in, Captain Moreau," I said, using her new formal title, the new captain of my Queen's Guard. We had shared an intimacy down in those dungeons, during our escape. But a distance had yawned between us during our journey back, only to become more even greater after that day. If any closeness still existed between us after, it had been diminished with every passing day since. She left me alone to deal with my family's brutal murders. Alone to cope with my new powers, my new role.

As she walked into my chamber, stopping several paces away from me, I realized this was the first time we would be alone at all since that day. Even on the day I had bestowed her new title, the honor of captain of my guard, she hadn't even met my eyes as she had accepted.

Her gaze took me in then carefully flicked away, dropping to the floor as she bowed.

"Your Majesty."

I let her stay like that for a moment. I had not imagined how her heart had picked up slightly, though she was trying to calm it. She was frightened.

I clenched my jaw, my fingers gripped together tightly in my lap. Behind her, my Angel watched raptly.

"You may rise, Captain. Tell me, to what do I owe this pleasure?" I drawled.

Moreau straightened, slowly lifting her gaze to meet mine. It was forced, but for a moment I saw the same flicker of the woman I had met in that carriage ride all that time ago. Afraid as she was, she still boldly met my gaze when no one else would.

"I am here to escort you to the ceremony," she said stiffly. She ran a hand over her neck, pausing a moment to glance behind her right where my Angel sat perched over the fireplace. She blinked a moment, as if dazed, but turned back to me. "Though before we go, there is one matter of business we need to discuss."

I studied her, wondering if she had sensed the Angel behind her. She had always been quite devoted to our faith. I wondered what she would do if she knew she shared the room with one of our Blessed Ones. Would she be happy? Proud, perhaps? It would be nice to tell someone, anyone, of the divine things I was witness to. Surely, she wouldn't fear me then. She would be happy. Happy for me, happy to have me as Queen. I studied the grim expression chiseled into her features, and quieted the impulse.

Moreau didn't deserve the privilege of knowledge—of truth. To know why I had done what I did. I shouldn't have to justify myself to her. To prove to her I was devoted to Rosailles, that I was the true living messenger of the Angels, the one they had chosen. Few people knew me like Moreau did. The place I opened to her now sat raw, empty, a wound left behind because I knew Moreau still did not accept what I had done.

"And what business is this?"

To give her credit, she did not look away from me once. "We have pressed the soldiers we rounded up through the capital, we believe we have gotten all the information from them we could get. It matches up with what we know of the events that took place in Garnette. Now we must decide what to do with the remaining men."

I nodded slowly, tuning out all the pent-up emotions I was feeling upon seeing Moreau again.  After I had recovered from the immense effects of my gift, I had ordered all the remaining Garnetti in the city to be rounded up. With the bulk of their forces gone, it had been easy to capture those that had lingered outside their comrade's festivities.

"They have been in the dungeons a few weeks now, correct?" Already so much time had passed since then. Rebuilding, and cleaning the castle. The hardest part had been trying to remove all the blood from the Great Hall.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

I considered my options. I could use my gift, and have their bodies ripped apart, turning their blood to hard-edged thorns that burst from their skin. I could be brutal.

Only there were two things wrong with doing that. Those of my people who had survived the raids would want blood as much as I did. My gift was fast, but it also had to be private. Only those close to the throne, my devoted soldiers, and my future heirs could know the truth of my magic. Keeping it a mystery was part of its power. The only people who could be privy to such secrets were those who died by my hand.

I could leave the men to rot in the dungeons. Except after killing most of them, there were still many prisoners in my dungeons. A lot of mouths to feed, even if it was sparingly. Too much of our farmland had been burned to afford such scum leeching away our resources.

Making up my mind I returned my gaze to Moreau.

"Announce to the city there will be an execution tomorrow morning. Have the guillotine brought out and cleaned for the occasion." My lips quirked, remembering what the Garnetti had done to my mother's body, what they would have done to me. "Off with their heads. Post them outside the city for all to see. Let it be known that Rosailles will not cower in the face of the men that try and claim our power as their own."