The Sapphire Broach

Chapter 27 (rough draft)

Ivy's captors dragged her up the steps of the palace. She had arrived, surely not how she had planned—and without the broach—but she was there, nonetheless.

"Unhand me," she cried. "For you know not who you hold."

"Is that so?" A guard stepped from the palace doors and stood directly in front of her. "Who is it we hold, then?"

She swallowed. She had imagined parading triumphantly up to the palace doors, presenting the broach, claiming her right to the throne, and exposing Rymond as a murderer.

This was none of those things. They would not believe her if she told them who she was without presenting the broach. They wouldn't listen to her accusations against the king. But if she said nothing, Rymond would kill her before she even had a chance to say it.

"I am Princess Gertrude Ivynona, the third of Berryann."

The guard looked her over without any show of emotion. "Truly? Then where is the sapphire broach?"

Behind him another guard snickered.

She had to remain confident. "I lost it when these men attacked me. They tore my dress where a secret pocket hid the broach."

A smirk appeared on the guard's face, though he tried to hold it back. "Is that so? It is a very convenient story. No evidence and no witnesses. I am afraid I do not believe it. Take her away."

"Please, no!" The guards dragged her forward. "You have to believe me! I speak the truth! Please! I am the Missing Child!"

The soldiers hauled her into the palace while the other's laughter echoed behind her.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the king."

"Please! I cannot see him yet. You must listen to me!" She couldn't see Rymond already. She hadn't convinced anyone of her identity. She hadn't spoken of his atrocities. Someone had to know the truth before Rymond silenced her!

"The king is most anxious to see you and has been waiting for you in the throne room since word of your capture reached his ears."

Guards opened two large doors that led into the grand throne room. She hadn't been in that room in nine years. Flags baring the colors of Berryann still hung about the vaulted ceiling and the blue-velvet throne stood majestically before her. But instead of the jolly, warm face of her father, the face that greeted her bore a nasty smirk and had all-to-familiar cold gray eyes.

"Ah," the king spoke. "I have been waiting for you."

Ivy shivered and remembered the last time he had looked at her.

One of the soldiers approached the king and whispered in his ear, then retreated back to stand beside her.

Rymond waved the soldiers and guards away. "Leave us."

"No," Ivy cried. "Please stay. Make them stay!"

"We have no need for them." Rymond stood. "I believe we can speak quite civilly to each other in their absence."

The men left and shut the door behind them with a great and final thud that set Ivy's knees to knocking.

Rymond stepped from the throne and circled her. "Gertrude Ivynona the third. I have waited nine long years for your return. Where is the broach, Darling?"

Ivy remained silent. She would not tell him she had lost it.

A wicked grin contorted his face. "Your silence is rather amusing. Do you assume my guards tell me nothing? I have already heard that you lost it, I was only giving you the opportunity to admit it yourself. How tragic."

Ivy still said nothing.

"I sent men out looking for you year after year, even though I expected you to return on your own. Admittedly, I felt a great disappointment that you did not arrive last year when you came of age. I see now that you were too afraid to face me."

"I am not afraid of you!" Ivy suddenly felt strength flow back into her veins and she realized that she truly wasn't afraid. Nothing mattered beyond exposing him.

He stepped to her and brought his nose nearly to hers. "You should be. Do you see all of this?" He gestured around the throne room and his voice rose in volume. "All this once was yours . . . yours and your beloved parents. I sat here, day after day and served and protected all of you. What did I get in return? A meager bag full of gold coins each week! I wanted more. I wanted everything."

He resumed his circling path around her. "So I killed them. I took it all for myself. I am now the most powerful man in the kingdom! People live and die by my word alone, and now that is all that governs your fate."

He took a strand of her hair in his hand and twirled it between his fingers, then tightened his fist, pulling her head backwards by her hair.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She would not give him the satisfaction of tormenting her!

He laughed, a dry, brittle laugh that made her cringe. "I will not leave your destiny to my word alone, though. No. That would be far too anticlimactic. I believe I shall allow you to share your foolish story with your people, then we will let their words condemn you. They will chose your fate."

He stepped away from her. "Guards!" he called. The great doors opened again and the soldiers returned.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"This woman is accused of treason. Lock her in a cell and call for a public hearing at dusk. Be prepared for a hanging."