The Night the Crown Was Stolen
Chapter 13 - The Night the Crown Was Stolen
Varrick moved faster than the king.
By sunset, his soldiers occupied the council chamber, the royal armory, and every city gate. He produced a decree naming himself Protector of the Realm until Aldren’s “mental illness” could be judged.
The decree bore the king’s seal.
Aldren had never signed it.
But seals mattered more than truth to frightened men.
The king barricaded himself in the old palace with two hundred loyal guards. Varrick controlled nearly a thousand.
Elara and Rowan reached Aldren through the queen’s tunnel. They brought the ledger and the river district leaders with them.
The king read three pages and lowered himself into a chair.
“All these years,” he said. “Every famine. Every border raid. Every accusation.”
“You trusted him,” Elara replied.
“I needed him.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It becomes the same thing when a king is afraid.”
Aldren looked at her. “You speak to me like Marian.”
“I never knew her.”
“No. But you carry the part of her I lost.”
He removed the royal ring from his hand and placed it on the table.
“I will surrender.”
Rowan stepped forward. “Varrick will kill you.”
“If I do not, the city becomes a battlefield.”
Elara thought of the people in the river district. They had not opened their doors so the king could trade his life for another lie.
“Do not surrender,” she said. “Confess.”
Aldren stared at her.
“Tell the city what you did. Tell them you allowed secret arrests, false trials, and forced marriage because you were afraid of rebellion. Varrick’s power depends on everyone believing you are too proud to admit failure.”
“A king cannot rule after such a confession.”
“Then perhaps ruling is not the first thing you should save.”
Before Aldren could answer, an explosion shook the palace gate.
Varrick’s men entered the outer court.
Rowan ordered the loyal guards to fall back through the western hall. Tomas led servants and clerks into the tunnels. Elara carried the ledger beneath her gown.
A servant girl appeared near the chapel, crying.
“Lady Elara, they found Lord Lucian’s wife and child.”
“Where?”
“In the old mint. Varrick says he will release them if you come alone.”
Rowan caught Elara’s arm. “No.”
“He will kill them.”
“He will kill you.”
“Then follow me without being seen.”
“That is not a plan.”
“It is the first honest thing I have asked you to do.”
She gave the ledger to Aldren.
“If I do not return, read every name aloud from the cathedral steps.”
Aldren closed his hand around the book.
Elara walked out through the chapel door.
Varrick waited in the courtyard beneath a black-striped royal banner. Lucian’s wife and son knelt beside him, guarded by soldiers.
He smiled when Elara approached.
“You finally understand,” he said. “The crown belongs to whoever is willing to pay for it.”
Elara looked at the terrified child.
May you like
“No,” she said. “It belongs to whoever convinces everyone else to pay.”
Then she stepped into Varrick’s carriage.
