Crown of Blood (Crown of Death #2)

My brows furrow and fall to the page, focusing on the name I bore for nineteen years.

“A Royal with three Royal daughters drew a lot of attention in Roter Himmel,” I remember. “During that time, there was only one other female Royal born. You know how close Cyrus has kept an eye on the female descendants.” My eyes lose their focus, recalling the moments of tension leading up to the knock on the door that came once every six months. “Cyrus came to see us very often. Twice a year, from the time we were born, he would visit our home. He was always so happy. His eyes held so much excitement.”

My skin crawls, remembering what that meant to me when I was old enough to understand why he came to see me and my sisters.

“Cyrus favored my older sister,” I continue. “Aimée. He never said it, but I could see it in his eyes, he thought she would be the one when we Resurrected. He paid her the most attention. And I was grateful for it. If she was the Queen, I didn’t need to worry about it. I could simply plan my life, decide what my fate would be once I was immortal.”

Emotion bites at the back of my eyes and I shake my head. It comes back, clearer and faster, the more I talk about it. “We were sisters, had been so close our entire lives. We were close in age, so Cyrus allowed us to wait to Resurrect all at the same time.”

Goose bumps rise on my skin as I remember walking to the castle with my family. It was a great procession. Everyone in the entire town came to watch the Gadox sisters go to end their lives as human and wait to see if they were the one, Cyrus’ long lost wife, who had been dead for seventy-six years.

“We did it in one of the grand ballrooms at the castle,” I resume the story of Antoinette. “We stood in a row, Cyrus seated on his throne before us, Sevan’s empty one beside him. Three guards stood behind us, and drove a dagger through our hearts.”

A gasp slips over my lips now, and my hand rises to my chest, remembering those two seconds of agonizing, blinding pain. The feel of warmth slipping down my chest.

And then the dark.

“I woke four days later, at the exact same moment as my sisters,” I say. “For two weeks, we were pampered guests at the castle, spending nearly every moment with Cyrus. Cyrus watched Aimée so closely. Spent so much time flattering her and making her laugh.

“But then as I walked passed a door, I had a…vision,” I say. “A memory. I knew there was a passageway to the treasury behind that door. I spent the rest of that day wandering the castle, and one by one, I knew where every single door led. Slowly, I could recall cleaning the debris from the castle. I remembered Cyrus spending hours fixing it. And I remembered the way our son’s infant cries reverberated throughout the entire castle the first night we slept in it.”

My throat closes up and I can’t speak as I recall an angelic face.

But like a door being slammed closed, my memory goes dark, blocking it out.

“It took me another month to forgive Cyrus for the attention he gave my sister,” I say. “It was petty, and I knew he was only relying on hope and instinct. But it was still difficult, thinking he didn’t recognize me, even though I’d been there in front of him for so long.”

“It’s understandable,” Rath says, and I actually flinch. I had forgotten he was here. “Sevan, I cannot even imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

I look up at his face, and I’m filled with wonder.

Rath is very good at reading people. He’s good at reading the multiple people inside of me.

He knows when to address Logan, and he knows when to address Sevan.

I nod, settling back further into my chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. I’m trying to pull all these lives together, back to the surface, and consolidate them into one.

I look back down at the paper. “I don’t remember everything. And I’m not a very patient person. I might as well use the resources at hand, right?”

I stand and with my paper and pen, I head toward the door. But I stop just in front of it. I look back at Rath.

“You’re free to go wherever you like,” I say. Stupid Rath. He’s just one more man that makes my heart feel all tangled into complicated knots that can never be untied. “I’ll make sure no one from Court or the House of Valdez bothers you. You can return to Alivia if you like, or go wherever.”

He stands, staring at me, history and knowledge in his eyes. “I’ve served in some capacity or another my entire life. Right now, I see a woman who needs someone on her side, no matter who she is. I told you that I’m here for you.”

Rath may not be Eli, like I’d always thought. But he’s still here, supporting and protecting me.

I smile.

“Come on, then,” I say as I nod toward the door.

Together, we walk down the hall, to the elevator. We rise up a floor, and the doors open.

“Please find Hector, Edmond, and Rafael and tell them that I need to speak with them. Now,” I say to a House member who looks at me with questioning eyes as I head straight into the ballroom. But he scrambles and heads off to search.

I’m feeling bold. And even though Logan thinks this is weird and crazy, I head straight for Cyrus’ throne, which still sits at the head of the room.

My heart rate picks up a bit as I lower myself into it.

Rath slips in beside me, standing silent and solid, waiting.

I have to wait for five minutes. And then Edmond and Hector come out of the elevator. As they cross the ballroom, once again it opens, and out steps Rafael.

“My Queen,” Hector says as they all step in front of me. He takes a deep bow, which is immediately mimicked by his two sons.

“I’m hoping that you might be able to help me,” I say as they stand up. “I know you all are wondering why I came here without Cyrus. I don’t feel obligated to give you any kind of an explanation, but I will say this: when I return to Roter Himmel, and the entire world knows I’ve Resurrected once more, I need to have my shit together, and right now I have the memories of nine people racing around in my head.”

The look in their eyes changes from worried anticipation to confusion.

“I was dead for a damn long time,” I say, leaning forward slightly. Logan’s spitfire words are taking the lead at the moment. “My timeframe of who I was and when is a little out of focus. So I’m really hoping that the three of you will be able to help me sort a few details out.”

“Of course, anything, my Queen,” Hector says.

I can practically taste his anxiety and fear.

It may be their King they truly fear, but Sevan certainly isn’t someone to be taken lightly.

I hold out the paper with the names written down. “I remember names,” I say. “All the women I was. Am. What I don’t remember is who I was when, or where, for most of them. I’m hoping some of you are old enough to have heard of some of my past lives.”

Rafael looks nervously at his father, who gives him a look in return.

“None of you are particularly old, are you?” I say in annoyance.

“I’m sorry, my Queen,” Edmond says, stepping forward. “My father only inherited the House about ninety years ago when his father was killed. Rafael is the oldest, and he’s only been Resurrected for fifty-one years.”

“I don’t feel young,” Hector says, stepping forward, his eyes falling to the floor. “But my one hundred and twenty-two years is nothing compared to your timeline, Sevan.”

I let out a slow breath through my nose, my fingers curling around the end of the armrest. “Just look at the list, and tell me if anything jumps out at you.”

Hector takes it from my hands, and his sons gather around to study the names I have written down. Quietly they read them, and I can feel their stress rolling off them in palpable waves.

Sevan doesn’t really care.

“I remember hearing that the last time you were found, it was at the House in Borneo,” Rafael speaks up. “It’s the House that rules over all those islands, the Pacific. La’ei sounds like a name from the islands.”

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