Chapter 99: Royal Ultimatum
Holden was making coffee.
It was early. The villa was quiet. Maeve was still asleep. Renna was somehow still asleep, which was a miracle given that she usually woke up at dawn to do jumping jacks on the balcony for no reason.
The coffee machine gurgled and hissed.
Then the sky went dark.
Holden looked out the kitchen window. Six massive shapes blocked the morning sun. Flying carriages, each one the size of a small house, covered in gold-plated armor and royal crests. They descended on the academy like a flock of vultures.
Thoom. Thoom. Thoom.
One by one, the carriages landed in the main courtyard. The ground shook with each impact. Students came out of the dormitories, staring at the display.
A knock at the villa door.
Henry opened it, his face pale. "Instructor Vespera requests Sir Holden’s presence in the Headmaster’s hall. Immediately."
Holden poured his coffee into a travel mug, grabbed a piece of toast, and walked out the door.
"Should I accompany you, my lord?" Henry asked, hand on his sword.
"I think I’ll be fine."
The Headmaster’s hall was a large chamber with high ceilings and banners hanging from the rafters.
At the far end, the Headmaster sat in his high-backed chair, his eyes half-closed. He looked like he was napping.
Instructor Vespera stood to his right, her expression cold and serious.
And in the center of the room, pacing back and forth was the most ridiculous person Holden had ever seen.
The Royal Envoy was a tall man wearing a full set of gold-trimmed plate armor. A small jeweled crown sat on his helmet. His cape was red velvet, trailing behind him on the floor.
He was yelling before Holden even crossed the threshold.
"THERE HE IS! THE STREET RAT WHO DARES TO LAY HIS HANDS ON ROYAL FLESH!"
Holden took a sip of his coffee.
The Envoy pointed a finger at him. "You! You paralyzed Prince Oscar! A direct heir to the throne! You shattered Sir Dorian’s weapon and humiliated him in front of the entire student body! You have brought shame upon the Royal House not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES!"
Holden took another sip.
"Are you done yelling?" he asked. "I haven’t had my morning coffee yet."
Well, he had. But it was still mostly full.
The Envoy’s face turned purple. "You dare speak to the Crown?! I am High Envoy Marcus Thorne! I speak with the authority of the King himself!"
"Oh well, I also speak with the authority of caffeine."
Vespera looked at him with a very cold, angry stare. Holden just shrugged and leaned against the doors, settling in.
Envoy Thorne whipped out a scroll. Not a normal scroll. This one was five feet long, and it glowed faintly with royal magic.
"By direct order of the Crown, Holden Voss is to be executed for crimes against the Royal Family! His body as to be displayed at the palace gates as a warning to all commoners who forget their place!"
The Headmaster opened one eye.
"No," he said.
"No?" Thorne sputtered. "You dare say no to a royal execution order?"
"This student is the top-performing Second-Year in my academy," the Headmaster said, his old voice calm and dry as parchment. "He earned First Place in the Borderland Expedition. He holds full academy immunity under the Charter. You cannot touch him."
Thorne’s lip curled. "Then perhaps the Crown should reconsider its funding to this little school of yours. How much gold do you receive from the royal treasury each year? Forty thousand? Fifty? It would be a shame if that stream dried up."
The Headmaster’s other eye opened.
But before he could respond, Thorne grinned and unrolled the massive glowing scroll.
"There is, however, a legal alternative." His voice shifted from screaming to smug in a heartbeat. "The National Academy Wars."
Vespera’s eyes narrowed.
"A kingdom-wide tournament," Thorne continued, reading from the scroll with theatrical flair. "Held in the Capital City. Broadcast to every corner of the realm. All major academies send their finest teams to compete in combat. The rules are simple. You win, your honor is restored. You lose..."
He looked at Holden with vicious delight.
"You lose, and all academy protections are permanently stripped. The Crown can do whatever it wants with you."
He rolled the scroll up with a snap.
"Lead a team to the Capital, street rat. Fight the best students in the kingdom on live television. If you’re as special as this academy claims, you have nothing to fear."
Vespera turned her head slowly and looked at Holden. Her expression was unreadable. She wasn’t going to make this decision for him.
Holden pushed off the doors and walked to the center of the room. He stopped a few feet from Thorne, looking up at the taller man in his ridiculous gold armor.
"Let me get this straight," Holden said. "You flew six golden carriages across the sky. You put on your shiniest parade armor and you marched in here screaming like a toddler who dropped his juice box. All to challenge a second-year student to a tournament?"
"I challenged you to your execution, you insolent—"
"Because from where I’m standing," Holden continued, his voice calm and conversational, "it looks like the Royal Family is so desperate to save face that they’re betting their entire reputation on a kid from the slums."
Thorne’s mouth snapped shut.
"That armor looks good, by the way. Must take your servants hours to polish it." Holden tilted his head. "Does it come in a grown-up version, or is the whole royal army just dressed like circus performers?"
A few of the guards stationed along the walls coughed to hide laughs.
Thorne’s hand went to his sword. "I will gut you where you stand!"
"You could try," Holden said. "But then you’d violate about six academy charters and prove to everyone watching that the Crown can’t win a fair fight."
Thorne’s hand trembled on the hilt.
Holden smiled.
"I accept your tournament," he said. "I’ll go to the Capital. I’ll lead a team. And when I win in front of the whole kingdom, your shiny gold armor won’t be enough to hide how embarrassed the Royal Family is going to be."
He turned and walked toward the door.
"Oh, and Envoy?" He paused without looking back. "You might want to wipe the spit off your chin. You’re getting foam on the crown."
He pushed open the doors and stepped into the sunlight, leaving Thorne standing motionless in the middle of the hall, mouth opening and closing like a fish.
Vespera appeared beside him as he walked down the corridor.
"You just insulted a Royal Envoy to his face," she said.
"Did I? I thought I was being polite."
"You are either the bravest student I have ever trained, or the stupidest."
"Why can’t I be both?"
Vespera was quiet for a moment. Then, so quietly he almost missed it, she made a sound that might have been a laugh.
"Pick your team carefully, Voss," she said. "The Capital doesn’t send students. It sends monsters."
Holden looked out the window at the six golden carriages sitting in the courtyard like beached whales.
"Good," he said. "I’m getting bored of students anyway."