Chapter 6 - The Grandmother Who Knew the TruthAgnes Vale was eighty-seven years old.
She had been dead for eight.
At least Rowena believed she had.
Rowena had buried her.
She remembered the coffin.
The cold chapel.
The grave.
Nathaniel watched disbelief turn into something darker.
“You are lying.”
Vincent shook his head.
“I wish I was.”
“You saw her?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
Rowena’s breathing changed.
Nathaniel stepped closer.
“Where?”
Vincent answered.
“Blackstone Keep.”
Rowena’s grandmother had not died.
The implications arrived one by one.
The coffin.
Closed during the funeral.
The physician who refused to let Rowena see the body because illness had “changed her appearance.”
Her father insisting they bury Agnes quickly.
Rowena stared at the copper coin.
Had her grandmother planned everything?
Nathaniel touched her shoulder.
She pulled away.
Not because she blamed him.
Because she could not stand being touched while her entire childhood rearranged itself.
“Why would she leave me?”
Nobody answered.
Elara finally said, “Maybe she had no choice.”
“That is what people always say when they abandon someone.”
Nathaniel flinched slightly.
Rowena saw it.
His mother had died when he was young.
Elara had been presumed dead.
Everyone here carried abandonment in different shapes.
Vincent continued.
“Severin has kept Agnes alive because he needs her blood.”
Matilda frowned.
“Why wait until now?”
“Because the Queenmaker rite requires willing invocation.”
Rowena looked at her.
“Willing?”
Matilda nodded.
“A Queenmaker cannot simply be cut open.”
“Good to know.”
“The ritual requires spoken recognition.”
Nathaniel’s face hardened.
“Then Gabriel cannot use Agnes if she refuses.”
Vincent shook his head.
“He has leverage.”
“What?”
Vincent looked at Rowena.
“You.”
Of course.
Gabriel had spent years searching for Rowena.
Not to kill her.
To control Agnes.
Rowena laughed bitterly.
“My father.”
Vincent looked away.
“Was leverage too.”
Nathaniel’s head snapped around.
Rowena understood.
“Gabriel killed him.”
Vincent said nothing.
Nathaniel stepped toward him.
“Answer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Who does?”
“Severin.”
Rowena closed her eyes.
Tomorrow’s coronation had changed.
It was no longer simply about Nathaniel’s throne.
Her grandmother was inside that castle.
Possibly responsible for secrets that shaped Rowena’s entire life.
She would go.
Nothing Nathaniel said could stop her.
He knew it.
That made their argument shorter.
“I stay beside you.”
“Yes.”
“You do not leave my sight.”
“That may not be possible.”
“Rowena.”
“I’ll try.”
“I need better.”
She looked at him.
“You want promises reality can break.”
He stared.
She softened.
“I promise I will not take unnecessary risks.”
“That definition concerns me.”
“It is the best you’re getting.”
Nathaniel sighed.
“Fine.”
Elara smiled.
“He’s learning.”
Nathaniel glared.
The plan began at dawn.
Thousands of wolves climbed Blackstone Keep for Gabriel’s coronation.
Clan leaders wore ceremonial colors.
Soldiers lined the mountain roads.
Drums echoed through the valleys.
Nathaniel’s rebels blended into arriving groups.
Rowena wore a black cloak.
Nathaniel remained hidden beneath armor and a helm.
Vincent, strangely, became useful.
Gabriel’s officials still believed he was loyal.
He escorted Rowena through a merchant entrance as his “assistant.”
Nathaniel followed disguised as guard.
Every step upward tightened Rowena’s chest.
The castle interior was enormous.
Obsidian floors.
Black columns.
Silver torches.
Wolf carvings.
People everywhere.
Nathaniel’s hand occasionally brushed hers beneath their cloaks.
The contact steadied them both.
Near the throne hall, Vincent separated.
“If I survive this, the debt is canceled.”
Rowena stared.
“It should have never existed.”
“Yes.”
He looked almost ashamed.
“For whatever it matters, I am sorry.”
Rowena did not forgive him.
But she nodded.
“That is something.”
Vincent disappeared.
Nathaniel leaned closer.
“You are kinder than I would be.”
“I noticed.”
They reached the western altar.
Nathaniel found the hidden passage from childhood.
Inside, darkness.
He removed his helmet.
Rowena looked at him.
“This was your escape route from table lessons?”
“Yes.”
“It smells terrible.”
“It smelled better twenty years ago.”
They moved behind the throne hall.
Through cracks in the stone they could see the ceremony.
Gabriel Thorn stood beneath a black crown.
Rowena had expected someone visibly monstrous.
He was not.
He was handsome.
Blond hair.
Blue-gray eyes.
Elegant armor.
The sort of man strangers trusted.
That made him worse.
Severin Black stood beside him.
Thin.
White-haired.
Nearly seventy.
His face reminded Rowena of a knife.
Then guards brought an old woman forward.
Rowena stopped.
Agnes.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
Her grandmother leaned on a cane.
Rowena covered her mouth.
Nathaniel caught her before she moved.
“Wait.”
Tears filled Rowena’s eyes.
Agnes looked toward the crowd.
Even from behind the wall, Rowena knew those eyes.
The same eyes that watched her learn to sew.
The same hands that braided her hair.
The same woman she mourned.
Gabriel spoke.
“Agnes Vale.”
The hall quieted.
“Last Queenmaker of Silver Hollow.”
Murmurs spread.
Agnes stared at him.
“You talk too much.”
Rowena almost laughed through tears.
Definitely her grandmother.
Gabriel smiled thinly.
“Recognize my claim.”
“No.”
The hall reacted.
Gabriel’s smile hardened.
“Think carefully.”
“I have had eight years to think.”
He leaned closer.
“Your granddaughter lives.”
Agnes’s face changed.
Rowena felt Nathaniel’s hand tighten.
Gabriel continued.
“She is inside my reach.”
Agnes looked across the hall.
Searching.
Rowena’s breath caught.
Then Agnes looked directly at the hidden crack in the wall.
Impossible.
Yet she saw.
Her eyes met Rowena’s.
Agnes smiled.
Rowena nearly sobbed.
Gabriel noticed.
“What?”
Agnes turned back.
“You made the same mistake every false king makes.”
“And what is that?”
“You thought power belonged to whoever could hold it.”
She lifted her cane.
Then slammed it against the floor.
The Saint’s Tear in Rowena’s pocket ignited.
Every torch in the hall went blue.
Gasps erupted.
Nathaniel’s royal blood surged.
Agnes shouted.
“NOW, CHILD.”
Nathaniel pushed open the hidden door.
The entire throne hall froze.
The dead king stepped out.
Silence.
Absolute.
Nathaniel removed his helmet.
Somebody whispered his name.
Then another.
Then hundreds.
“Nathaniel.”
“The king.”
“He’s alive.”
Gabriel went white.
Nathaniel walked toward the throne.
Seven months of suffering vanished from his posture.
He was not the chained wolf Rowena bought.
He was the Alpha King.
Gabriel recovered.
“This is an impostor.”
Nathaniel smiled.
“You always were a bad liar.”
The hall erupted.
Wolf captains shouted.
Soldiers hesitated.
Elara entered through the eastern doors with loyal guards.
More shock.
Two dead Ashcrofts returned in one morning.
Gabriel drew his sword.
“Arrest them.”
Nobody moved.
He screamed.
“I AM YOUR KING!”
Nathaniel’s eyes turned gold.
Half the room instinctively bowed.
Gabriel stared.
That was when Severin moved.
He grabbed Agnes.
A silver blade went against her throat.
Rowena stepped from the hidden passage.
“Stop.”
Every head turned.
Agnes’s eyes filled.
“My little Roe.”
Rowena walked forward.
Gabriel stared at her.
“The heir.”
Nathaniel stepped in front.
“Do not look at her.”
Gabriel smiled.
“So protective.”
Nathaniel growled.
Rowena touched his arm.
“Let me.”
He looked at her.
Trust.
Again.
Nathaniel stepped aside.
Rowena faced Gabriel.
“You need a Queenmaker.”
“Yes.”
“Here I am.”
Nathaniel turned.
“Rowena.”
She ignored him.
Gabriel’s smile returned.
“Recognize me.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“Then your grandmother dies.”
Agnes laughed.
“No, I don’t.”
Severin tightened the blade.
Blood appeared.
Rowena’s heart stopped.
Agnes looked at her.
“Do not choose me.”
Rowena’s eyes filled.
“I already lost you once.”
“And survived.”
“I don’t want to again.”
Agnes smiled sadly.
“That is love.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“One word.”
Rowena held the copper coin.
“Fine.”
Nathaniel stared at her.
Gabriel smiled.
Rowena lifted the Saint’s Tear.
“I recognize…”
Nathaniel’s face broke.
“…Nathaniel Ashcroft.”
The coin exploded with light.
The mountain roared.
Not metaphorically.
Stone shook.
Every wolf in the hall dropped to one knee.
Gabriel screamed as the black crown on his head cracked.
Nathaniel’s eyes turned pure gold.
Power surged through him.
The throne behind Gabriel ignited with silver fire.
A voice older than language rolled through the mountain.
TRUE BLOOD ACKNOWLEDGED.
Gabriel fell.
Nathaniel remained standing.
Then Severin drove the blade toward Agnes’s throat.
Rowena screamed.
Nathaniel moved.
Too far.
Elara moved faster.
She threw a dagger.
It struck Severin’s wrist.
The silver blade fell.
Agnes stumbled free.
Rowena ran.
She caught her grandmother.
Nathaniel crossed the hall.
Gabriel scrambled toward the throne.
“No!”
The mountain rejected him.
Silver fire threw him backward.
He hit the floor.
Nathaniel stood over the man who betrayed him.
Gabriel looked up.
“You think you won?”
Nathaniel’s expression was cold.
“No.”
He glanced toward Rowena.
“I think you lost.”
Gabriel laughed.
Then his gaze shifted toward Agnes.
“You still don’t know.”
Rowena frowned.
“Know what?”
Gabriel smiled through blood.
“Ask your grandmother why your father really died.”
Agnes went pale.
Rowena slowly turned.
The victory disappeared.
“Grandma?”
Agnes lowered her eyes.
Rowena’s stomach sank.
“What did you do?”
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And in that instant, Rowena realized reclaiming the throne had been the easy part.
The worst secret was still alive.
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