It was the smallest of mercies compared to everything else, but still the relief of it almost brought tears to her eyes.
“To prepare for your coronation,” James added. “You’ll be crowned tomorrow.”
Norah’s heart stopped, and her lungs turned to stone in her chest. She couldn’t draw in a breath. “I can’t be crowned tomorrow.”
“This works in our favor,” James said.
“Favor?” she stammered breathlessly.
“We don’t have the luxury of time, and this puts pressure to pull the coronation forward before the state. Pressure we need. Things will move quickly now. You must be ready.”
“Of course I’m not ready!”
Catherine hushed her and pulled her toward the castle. “Not here,” she said sternly.
Not here, not in public. Not that it mattered, with everyone’s attention on the wagon of severed heads. Her stomach threatened to rebel. She needed to get away from the courtyard, and she let Catherine pull her back toward her chamber.
No sooner had the door closed when her grandmother said, “Do you see now?”
Norah scoffed in astonishment. “See? I see that you’ll have me slap a crown on my head so I can hurry and marry! And that’s the only thing on all of your minds, not the thousand heads in our courtyard, the heads James says are in our favor!” Her voice came nearly at a scream now. “In what mad world would that be considered in our favor?”
“It helps secure the crown before your ignorance loses it,” Catherine snapped back. “And perhaps now it will open your eyes! This is only a token of what the Shadow King has done, and what he will do. You don’t want to marry? Well, I don’t want a kingdom of severed heads!”
Her grandmother’s words silenced her. She didn’t want a kingdom of severed heads either.
“Norah, Aleon has the largest army in the world.”
“To help me take a Shadow throne I don’t want?” She shook her head. “I don’t even want this one.”
Her grandmother snatched her arm and pulled her close. “Don’t ever say that again. Not ever. Not even behind closed doors. Do you hear me?”
Norah drew in an uneven breath, then another. Her desperation was talking for her, and she couldn’t let it.
“It’s not about wanting the Shadow throne,” Catherine argued sharply. “It’s about stopping a great evil. It’s about saving yourself and your kingdom. And I don’t mean evil in simply a vile sense, Norah. He’s true evil incarnate. The Shadow King made a pact with Darkness, a pact that required his own heart.”
Her eyes narrowed. “A man can’t live without his heart.”
“He’s no longer a man. And out of his pact with Darkness, he was given a demon to command his armies. The blood of men gives this demon strength. It does the bidding of the Shadow King, and in return, it gains the souls of the fallen. And now, the Shadow King has the power to corrupt this entire world and bring death to us all.”
Norah’s skin prickled. And he was coming for her…
Catherine’s hold on her hands softened. “I don’t say these things to scare you, child.”
It was a little too late for that. Norah swallowed.
“Come. I have to show you something.” Still holding Norah’s hand, Catherine pulled her out of the chamber and down the hall to a side door leading outside. Norah silently begged that they weren’t headed back to the courtyard.
They weren’t, and she let out a sigh of relief. She let Catherine lead her down a cobblestone side path to an adjoining stone building with no windows. Her grandmother pushed open the door without knocking, and Norah followed her inside.
They stood in the middle of what appeared to be a sitting room, but all around them were paintings. Hundreds of them. Panels of stretched canvas stood upright and were stacked against the wall, balanced on chairs, and piled high on a center table.
Norah maneuvered slowly through the images, following her grandmother. There were so many—mainly of war but some of celebration. Some were of individuals; there were countless faces.
“Samuel!” Catherine called as they worked their way back.
An older man with thick glasses dressed in a sand-colored tunic and matching trousers appeared in the doorway of an adjoining hall, leaning heavily on his cane. “Ah, Queen Regent,” he greeted Catherine. When he saw Norah, he gave a wobbly bow of his head. “Princess Norah. A very unexpected but very welcome surprise.”
“The painting,” Catherine told him. As if there were only one.
“Ah. Yes, yes.” He waved his cane for them to follow as he hobbled through a door and into a back room.
“Which painting?” Norah asked her.
“The only one that matters.” Catherine started after the seer.
Norah followed them to the back room. It was much like the first and also had paintings stacked against the walls. This room had more furniture, which, like the room before, seemed to serve only to hold more paintings.
“Are all of these visions?” Norah asked.
“They are,” he said as he made his way toward the back.
Norah let her eyes pass from painting to painting in the room of visions. She didn’t know what to make of them. Images of death and carnage surrounded her: castle ruins, fallen men, blood pooling in the streets. And in every image of destruction, there was a dark, monstrous man with a horned helm—the Shadow King.
“There,” her grandmother said, and she pointed to a large painting against the back wall.
Norah stopped and stared at herself. It was an image of her sitting on a throne of night, with a crown atop her head. She wore white, the color of Mercia, but this wasn’t the throne of Mercia.
“It’s the Shadow throne,” Catherine told her. “Do you see now? You’ll take it. You’ll overthrow the Shadow King.”
Norah could only stare. She almost didn’t recognize herself; this woman looked strong. Powerful. Like a queen. It looked nothing like how she felt right now. Her soul still shook from the courtyard, and her mind was still foggy with the day’s horror. This woman in the painting wasn’t her.
“This can’t be me,” she breathed.
Catherine clenched Norah’s hand tighter. “Of course it’s you, my dear. It will be you. Fate’s written it.”
Chapter sixteen
The day of Norah’s coronation came with the sun, and Alexander sat in his chamber polishing his boots. He brushed them meticulously, trying to keep his mind from the thoughts that threatened to consume him. Today Norah would be crowned queen and would be one step closer to marrying King Phillip. They needed Aleon, but that didn’t make supporting the marriage any easier.
A knock rattled the door. Before he could answer, Adrian stepped inside. Of course he’d come.
Adrian grinned. “Today’s the day, brother.”
Alexander raised a brow, but he knew what his brother was referring to. “You don’t know that.” Sometimes Adrian was too positive.
“What?” his brother scoffed. “Of course I do. You’re going to be lord justice. Really this time.”
Alexander shook his head as he wrapped the boot brush back in its cloth. “No. The decision hasn’t yet been made, and there are others far more qualified than I.”