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the same fate as the diseased that will be
soon cleared from the streets,” Ever barked. “Now, it’s time for my
coronation. Garin?” Nodding blankly, Garin struggled to quickly
help Ever into his ceremonial robes, which had been haphazardly
tossed over a chair. The other men each bowed to the prince in
turn, their faces pale and full of fear. They hurried off as
quickly as possible, leaving Garin to his charge.
    Garin searched desperately for
something, anything that might change the prince’s mind, but from
the look on Ever’s face, there was much drink left in his body, and
addressing him would only make him angrier. So Garin kept quiet,
but that didn’t mean he would sit idly by as Ever stained his hands
with innocent blood. If Garin could not prevent all of it, perhaps
he could put off some.
    As soon as the prince was dressed,
Garin excused himself. Running back to his chambers, he whipped
parchment and a quill from his desk. The ink smeared as he wrote in
haste, but the words were legible. He hailed the first servant he
saw.
    “ Give this to Edgar. Tell him to
take it to Ansel Marchand in Soudain. And tell Edgar that if he
values his position here at the Fortress, there must be no delay.
That goes for you, too! Now hurry!”
    As soon as his message had been
dispatched, Garin tried to regain control of himself. In all of his
years at the Fortress, he had never felt such a sense of dread wash
over him. The prince who had always been the Fortress’s favored
one, more than any other king he had seen, was quickly bringing
something evil upon them all.
    What can I do to stop this? He begged the Fortress silently as he walked
quickly back to the throne room, where the ceremony was beginning.
As he took his place in the back, he noticed many of the other
advisers returning as well, from errands similar to his, he was
sure.
    Ever had somehow managed to get
himself down the aisle and before the holy man without rousing much
suspicion from the guests. Now, as he stood before them all, laying
his hand on the Holy Writ, Garin felt a pang of sorrow. This should
have been an eve of joy, not one of murderous bloodshed. The
kingdom had waited for its beloved prince, its jewel, to become
their sovereign since the day he was born.
    Before the prince could utter the
ceremonial vows, however, the priest abruptly withdrew the Holy
Writ and took a step backward. Uneasy murmurs spread through the
crowd as the old man’s face pulled into a frown and his eyes became
engulfed completely with blue flame.
    “ Everard Perrin Auguste Fortier,
son of Rodrigue, son of Damien the Fourth, the Fortress has
declared you unfit to wear this crown.” A gasp went up from the
assembly. “From the day of your birth,” the priest continued, “you
were gifted with a strength unknown to other men. Because of your
callousness, however, what has never been done before will take
place tonight.”
    The old man raised his head and
turned his fire-laden eyes upon the ceiling. “The Fortress will go
dark, and you, Prince Everard, will be a prisoner of your own
making. Before life can be found in this sacred place once again, a
new strength must be found. What has been broken must be remade.
The one who was strong must be willing to die. Only then can the
Fortress and the kingdom have the protector they
deserve.”
    As the priest finished speaking, a
dreadful grinding sound filled the hall. Garin fell to his knees,
holding his ears, trying desperately to block the noise as the
lights began to go out, one by one. The world around him seemed to
rise, and rushing winds burst through the great doors, and as they
swept through the people, each body began to disappear. Then all
was silent, and there was no light.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Belle

    “ Your eyes are sparkling,” Deline smiled at her
daughter.
    Isa beamed back. “It’s perfect.”
And it was. The dress was simple, but it was everything she could
have hoped for. The gauzy white made her feel like she was