Chapter 32
A week has never passed so quickly. Preparations were in place, the infantry had their orders, and all that was left was for the curtains to rise on the long awaited battle for the throne. It was Cole's title to reclaim, afterall, but the lot of us were set on laying down our lives for him. Even me, surprisingly. I've since long come to terms with the fact that my life and his were now intertwined, that I might be throwing away my second chance at life, but I have also decided living in a kingdom ruled by Margarite and Tristen is not a life worth living. Besides, despite my best efforts, it appears I've fallen in the sort of love that makes one a fool, the sort of love that leads to unyielding decisions – there was no living if he were not there.
Fool's love aside, I know Cole would make a benevolent ruler, the kind that wishes to bring commoners and nobles closer, not to further drive the divide like Margarite. She wants to make her position so undeniable, she wants to instill fear, and that's not the queen Belmar needs. Not to say that I'm that queen, just that I'm closer to that than her.
Tonight was a test of strength, of skill, of strategy. It was the mother of all tests, to prove my convictions true. This night had worked out fine in the books, but we're not in the books now. The outcome is yet to be determined and I'll be fighting on the frontlines.
No pressure.
This fight was to be different, though. Very different from what we're used to. People will die tonight, some of theirs and some of ours, and I guess I'm not sure if the reality of that has fully set in yet.
Not when we trained with the knights for the last time, not when we ran the battle strategy this morning, and not now, while we approach the palace on horseback.
"When are we to arrive?" I ask, glancing to my left at a strikingly stoic Cole.
"Momentarily," he says, gesturing over the tree line. It's clear what he's referring to; there's a dim glow in the near distance, a glow coming from the palace lights. He's right, we're arriving in enemy territory. "Have the flanks split off?" he asks, turning to me.
"About two markers back. Thompson cued me that the regiment broke off, his group to the left and Grace to the right. Everything has run smoothly thus far, we'll have Lambhurst encircled in a few minutes. If everything plays correctly, we'll have fought our way inside before Tristen, or if gods would have it Rista, even stirs. Give them a taste of the horrors we've waded through at their expense."
"If fate smiles favorably upon me, it would have my step mother awake for the horrors. An unconscious death is too merciless an end for snakes that find pleasure in spitting venom."
"Quite an unforgiving speech."
"One earned deservedly so."
"I do not deny it." I chuckle, a strange sound given the circumstances. "At least muffle her screams before she can call for help. Draw the lines and I will slice."
He scrunches his nose. "Bit brutal."
"Deservedly so."
We share a smile, something warm stemmed from the blossoming relationship I envisioned before we mounted these horses. I never once even considered that that relationship may never reach fruition.
"Cole," I whisper, staring at the reigns in my hands. "Could you mind the rearguard, their pace seems to be lacking."
"Pardon?" he turns his head, scanning the back. "They seem to be following, are they not?"
"No, I'm fairly certain they've fallen out of step."
"But Amy –"
"Cole," I snap, looking at him with pleading in my eyes. "Mind the rearguard."
YOU ARE READING
The Kingdom of Belmar
Fantasy"No, this isn't where he's supposed to be. He's supposed to run into Margarite Hastings, he's supposed to ask for her hand. If he doesn't dance with Margarite tonight, their fated meeting will be ruined. They're the protagonists, so what is he doing...
