Chapter 298: Northern Throne (1)
Over the next month, Arawn and Evanna stayed at the palace to celebrate the winter solstice. Once the celebrations were over, though, they began preparing to leave. After Eleanor’s execution, the royal family celebrated the unity of the Flori through Evanna and Arawn’s engagement. They were to marry in the elven lands, which Evanna preferred anyway, especially now that her mother was well enough to travel.
During this time, William and George were quiet, their food was barely touched, and presents were looked upon with forced small smiles. Their mother was not coming back, and they wouldn’t learn the reasoning behind Eleanor’s death until they were older.
While the peoples’ spirits in Dunhurst were gradually growing brighter once more with the return of their princess in good health, the soon-to-be marriage and unity between two kingdoms and the celebration of the heroes who kept Evanna alive, the north was in a completely different state. The brittle cold and ongoing storms marked the ominous presence of the Demon Prince’s return.
On his return from Lyvaria, Conrad’s mind was focused on his goal. His act of vengeance. To take everything away from those craving more power. King Horik made the poor decision to throw him into battle at such a young age. He thought Conrad would never return. How wrong he was.
Now, he stood before another bloodied battlefield. This one like none other before. Blood dripped down the pristine palace floors from suspended bodies on pikes. His father’s mouth gaped at him, eyes lifeless, expression shocked with the blade piercing his heart. His men searched the surroundings, and until they returned, Conrad shoved King Horik’s body onto the ground with a loud thud and sat on the throne, lifting the bloodied crown to his head.
"Prince Arvid has fled."
"Find him," Conrad snapped. The Crown Prince was the only one that could threaten his spot on the throne. There were also his other siblings, but he was sure he could keep them under his thumb. If not, then they, too, would die.
His gaze moved to Queen Annika; she trembled in the corner, hands covering her face, knees up to her chest as she leaned against the wall. Blood stained her garments, but it wasn’t her own. Even though Annika never saw him as a son and flinched anytime he spoke or tried to touch her, tried to earn her love, Conrad couldn’t kill her. Though he felt nothing staring at the woman who birthed him, he deduced that he kept her alive to ensure his siblings remained obedient.
"Your Majesty."