Chapter 14 - The Bullet Meant for a King
“Rian!” Adrian shouted.
The captain’s face showed no recognition.
He fired.
Elara moved before thought.
She struck Adrian’s shoulder, throwing both of them behind a marble column.
The bullet tore through the king’s ceremonial robe and grazed his upper arm.
Royal guards fired toward the gallery.
Rian disappeared behind the curtains.
Panic consumed the hall.
Guests surged toward the glass doors, but the doors had locked automatically.
Someone had activated the emergency seal.
“They are trapping us inside,” Celestine said.
She overturned a table and pulled three terrified children behind it.
Helena seized a microphone from the musicians’ platform.
“Everyone remain down!”
No one listened.
Edmund Harrow crawled toward a side exit.
Miriam emerged from the servants’ corridor and blocked him.
“You are not leaving.”
He stared at her scarred hand.
“H-17C.”
“My name is Miriam.”
He drew a knife.
She broke his wrist.
At the front of the hall, Adrian checked Elara for injuries.
“I told you to stay behind me.”
“You were the one wearing a target.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Blood ran down his sleeve.
“You are.”
“It is a scratch.”
“The royal physician will be delighted by your diagnosis.”
Another gunshot silenced them.
This one came from the main floor.
A former minister collapsed beside the front row.
The bullet had entered his chest from behind.
Directorate members were killing one another.
“Evidence cleanup,” Adrian said.
Black lion seals appeared as men and women drew concealed weapons.
Royal guards returned fire.
Wealthy guests who had spent their lives believing money protected them crawled beneath chairs.
Uncle Alistair grabbed Elara’s dress.
“Help me!”
She pulled him behind the column.
“You laughed when Mother disowned me.”
“I was nervous.”
“You are always nervous in a remarkably insulting way.”
The speakers crackled.
A distorted voice filled the hall.
“King Adrian, surrender the Crownfall archive and the bride will live.”
Adrian looked toward the control balcony.
“Elara is already with me.”
The voice laughed.
“Is she?”
Across the hall, Helena had disappeared.
In her place stood a woman wearing the same cream satin dress and pearls.
Selene.
She held a pistol against Lavinia’s head.
The resemblance was so perfect that half the guests believed she was Helena.
“Where is my mother?” Elara shouted.
Selene smiled.
“Still deciding which of us deserves the title?”
“You shot her.”
“And yet you defend her.”
“She stayed.”
“She stole.”
“She raised me.”
“She trained you to beg for affection.”
“And you arranged my life from the shadows.”
Selene’s face tightened.
“I arranged for you to become queen.”
“I did not ask you to.”
“You would have remained a prisoner in that family.”
“So you replaced one prison with another.”
Selene pressed the pistol against Lavinia’s temple.
Lavinia sobbed.
“Please, Elara.”
Elara looked at the cousin who had mocked her for years.
Then she looked at Selene.
“Let her go.”
“Give me the Crownfall documents.”
“They are not here.”
Celestine rose behind the overturned table.
“They are under Ormaran protection.”
Selene turned the gun toward her.
Adrian used the distraction to advance.
A shot struck the marble near his feet.
Rian had returned to the gallery.
His weapon tracked the king.
Miriam looked upward.
“Rian!”
He did not respond.
She climbed the side staircase.
Royal guards attempted to follow, but two Directorate shooters blocked the path.
Miriam continued alone through falling glass and gunfire.
At the gallery, Rian loaded the silver bullet.
Adrian stepped into the open.
“Rian.”
The captain aimed at his heart.
“Winter follows lions,” Rian said mechanically.
Miriam reached the top.
“Summer remembers horses.”
Rian flinched.
The rifle lowered by an inch.
She came closer.
“You had a wooden horse with one wheel.”
His hands began to shake.
“You gave it to me when they said girls could not ride.”
“Stop.”
“You bit the instructor.”
“Stop.”
“You told me thunder was only the sky moving furniture.”
Rian closed his eyes.
The rifle dropped.
Then the veiled figure from the chapel stepped from behind the curtain.
She drove a knife into Miriam’s side.
Rian roared.
The conditioning broke.
He turned the rifle and fired at the attacker.
The figure fell against the railing.
Her veil slipped.
Queen Isabelle looked down at the wedding hall.
Adrian saw his mother’s face.
“No,” he whispered.
Isabelle smiled at him.
Not lovingly.
Triumphantly.
The queen mother raised a small remote.
“Your father failed because he believed a throne belonged to a bloodline,” she called. “Crownfall proved a throne belongs to whoever controls the heirs.”
Her thumb pressed the button.
Explosions shook the glass doors.
Steel shutters began descending over every exit.
A countdown appeared on the hall’s main display.
Five minutes.
Adrian shouted, “What did you activate?”
Isabelle looked at Elara.
“The final wedding gift.”
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Beneath the marble floor, hidden tanks released the sharp scent of fuel.
Fire raced along the edges of the hall.
