A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,122

an avalanche down on us all.

She held one of Isa’s swords as she floated toward me, murder in her eyes. I was frozen, rooted to the spot by shock. Isa had warned me last night that Mother’s reaction to her death would be terrible, but this? I couldn’t believe it.

Too trusting. Not once had I considered my mother might be the one who sent killer after killer to end my life.

A bellow of rage sounded. I turned in time to see Baccha with his hand stretched toward the sky, in the same gesture as Mother’s just moments ago. Baccha’s hair, torn free of its usual braid, floated around him like a golden shroud. He looked like the Godling he was as power glowed beneath his skin.

The wind began to ebb away, calmed by Baccha.

My mother, feet firmly planted on the ground now, leveled the sword at me, eyes promising murder.

I stared down at the quiver still in my hand.

Killing is easy, Ysai had said.

It would have been so simple, sending one of these arrows to savage her heart. I was ashamed that I wanted to repay her for every pain. Every time she’d cut me down in front of the Court. For stealing my father from me and Otho and Isa. For her inability to love me.

For never once choosing me.

But simply because I could kill her didn’t mean that I should. Even if I wouldn’t mourn her death, Isa would. And I refused to do to my sister what Lilith had done to me. I wouldn’t take my mother’s life as she had stolen my father’s.

I let my magick ebb away. I didn’t need it anymore.

When she darted toward me, clumsy in her dress, I sidestepped her. I hooked an ankle round hers and she fell in the dirt.

When she tried to rise, I pointed my sword at her throat. “That’s enough.”

* * *

Isa rolled over onto her back and growled, “Gods, Eva, that hurt.”

“If you recall, it was your idea,” I countered. It was Isa who suggested I use the arrows to make it seem as though I’d stabbed her through the heart. I’d aimed for an inch above her heart, not a shot I would’ve trusted on an actual bow. As it was, Isa’s breathing had a labored, wet sound that worried me.

“Baccha,” I called. “Can you heal my sister, please?”

My mother’s eyes went so wide I could see the whites all around. Like she’d seen a ghost. “What is happening?”

I pointed to the soldiers who’d laid down their weapons. “You’ve confessed to ordering the killing of King Lei and repeated attempts to murder me in front of a sizable contingent of the army, Mother. I’m arresting you for treason and murder.”

“You can’t arrest the Queen for murder. And what treason? Lei was a liar and a fraud.”

“An act against a future heir is treason, Mother, and so is using a murder you orchestrated to start a war with Dracol.” I waved a hand at the crowd of soldiers, who had not taken my mother’s confession kindly. Even the courtiers were aghast, trading troubled looks. “Do you think they will stand with you? I do not.”

I walked to where Falun stood, carrying a small satchel. The shackles inside were the same ones Isa had worn months ago.

By the time I returned, it seemed something had broken in my mother. She didn’t resist as I slid each shackle over her wrists. Of all the things, it was her compliance that cracked my heart in half.

It was over. It was finally done.

Epilogue

A Queen of Gilded Horns

“Ow!” I groaned, massaging the back of my scalp.

“If you’d like me to cut out the knots, I can get the shears now, Evalina,” Mirabel scolded.

She’d woken me an hour before the sun was up. Apparently, the hairstyle she intended for today would require four hours of work. Lucky me.

Isa, seated in the corner of my bedchamber with her legs folded beneath her on a citrine velvet cushion, chuckled. She’d knocked on my door midmorning with a plate of buttery pastry, mazi fruit, and blood oranges.

Supposedly the kitchen staff had cleared the groves in Ternain and had more shipped in from the citrus groves south to account for the myriad of recipes for the coronation feast.

Mirabel had heard rumors that some of the cooks complained that I’d opened the feast to the public. We hired additional staff to make up for the new mouths to feed.

“Mirabel, will you braid my hair tomorrow?” Isa asked.