Whispers of a Throne

By V. Pinder

It’s King versus King and no one is safe...

Especially not Gwen when it’s discovered she has the Queen Gene.

Problem is Gwen is not a prize to be won, ever.

1. Raised as Robin’s Daughter in the forest, Gwen is a tool for no man. 2. Born with the Queen Gene, the fate of the war is in her hands. 3. Knights, King Arthur, Merlin and one modern day retelling all rolled into one.

Shortly before his demise, Gwen’s father makes a declaration that radically alters the course of her life. Born with the queen gene, she’s destined to marry a king, but when she’s sold to King Thor, her destiny feels more like a curse.

Thor marches in and takes control of every aspect of her life. As war wages around them, she’s forced to choose sides, but her decision does not come without consequences.

A young girl has been kidnapped. Gwen makes it her mission to rescue her and ultimately rescue herself from the ravages of a life she never asked for. As Thor fights to defeat his enemies, she tests him further. Surrounded by danger, embroiled in controversy, and desperate to save those they’ve vowed to help, Thor and Gwen will face the unthinkable. Will they survive their battles together or will the looming threats tear them further apart?

One Click to Find out Now because a woman’s choice decides now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victoria Pinder
• Release date: Feb 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463703830

V. Pinder

Victoria Pinder also writing under Greta Buckle grew up in Irish Catholic Boston before moving to the Miami sun. She’s worked in engineering, then became a lawyer. After realizing she hates clients, she became a high school teacher. Teaching is fun, but writing is a passion. She wrote one hundred and one fan fiction stories online before deciding to transition into writing her own stories. Never ask her to republish her fan stories from age eleven- horribly written stories of princesses. Victoria dreams of writing professionally, where her barista can make her coffee and a walk on the beach, can motivate her tales. Theseus story came to her when she was a freshman in high school as her English teacher, the nun, told her how life was hard and tragedy teaches lessons. The sci fi stories come from years of Star Trek and Star Wars fandom. Victoria’s love of writing has kept her centered and focused. How is she crazy? The voices in her head are characters in novels and she’s not insane.

Book preview

Fantasy Novels

Please check out my other fantasy novels while you wait for the next adventures.

Hidden Dragon Series

Call of the Dragon

Dawn of the Dragon

Escape of the Dragon (Coming Soon!)

The Queen Gene

Whispers of a Throne

Earthseekers Mission

Makeup May Change Your Life

The Zoastra Affair

Ancient Greek Heroes

Mything You

Mything the Throne

Chapter 1

This won't hurt, Marion. My name is actually Gwen, but I had lied on the paperwork and refused to explain now. The nurse, dressed in a thick, white material, fixed her needles on a tray. I sat straight in the uncomfortable wooden chair, then held my arm out and gave her access to my veins.

The prick of the needle stung worse than a scrape on my knee. Grinding my back teeth together, I pressed my hands into fists to hold back a scream as my blood poured into a small glass container. This would be all over in a moment.

Hold your arm up and press the bandage right on your wound. The nurse was efficient and expected her directions to be followed immediately. If I argued, she'd remember me. So I held my breath. Father was willing to follow the law, though we gave fake names. I kept my word we'd find out what the BloodRite said I was good for.

The white papers she pressed against my arm scratched against my hairless skin. Mother had always used a soothing plant called aloe on my cuts. I cringed. I won't think of her. Mother was the reason Father talked me into taking this test. If we lived in cities like Avalon or London, the BloodRite would determine my fate. Most people get the test done at age thirteen, though law dictated before I turned eighteen. I thought he didn't care about the testing, but then Mother died, I turned eighteen in two days, and Father changed.

The nurse motioned for me to keep my hand up. Instead of making a fuss, I stared out the window and did as she requested.

Coldness entered me as I stared at the scorched black skyline of an ancient city, Camelot, on the outskirts of Avalon. A poisoned place where legends of mushroom clouds exploded over millions of people killing them instantly.

I turned my head and looked at the nurse. The hem of her white gown brushed the wooden planks. She drew blood all day, but her long sleeves were clean and shiny. My homespun brown dress with dirt stains that never came out in the wash covered me from my toes to my shoulders, but it was hopelessly ruined. The sun grew higher in the sky. I have to get out of here or Father would want to find someplace to sleep for the night.

The nurse returned and pressed her fingers to the scratchy material and then expertly wrapped white fabric to keep the paper in place. Did you sign the waivers to get the letter posted to you, Marion?

I swallowed. It took me a second to remember she meant me. I pressed my lips together. Yes.

You can go now. It was nice to meet you. I hope for your sake that the test shows you deserve better than what you have.

My nose curled. She must think me so poor that anything would be better for me. She didn't know how it felt to be truly free. I stood to go. Father had written down the address of someone he trusted in Avalon. As I left the room, I threw the bandage and the white papers in the trash and checked my arm. No blood poured out anymore so my tiny wound had stopped bleeding. I nodded my head. Thank you.

Now that the test was done, Father and I could return to the forest and never come back here. This town was too close to a dead city. From the riverbed by my house, we could see the relics of Camelot. War, just like the one between Thor and Rex, must have poisoned everything. Cities and war and destruction all went together, in my opinion.

As I walked out of the small building, I stared both ways down the busy street. People pulled carts filled with food, wood, or even furniture into a square. A woman with her husband and his cart full of apples gave directions while her young son rode on a donkey. She seemed weathered under her once red kerchief, but she was in full command mode with her crew.

My father had told me to meet him at the bakery. He said go left from the medical center, toward the town square. As I'd never been here before, I chose to follow the family and count my steps.

I winced at the stench of horses, carts and people. The forest smelled of pine trees and alder, even in the dead of winter.

The last thing I needed was to lose my father and get stuck in the walled city of Avalon, complete with a huge castle in the middle that overlooked the blackened charred remains of the ancient city. I rubbed my arms. Stories said humans had lived in houses that touched the skies The old ones built those buildings up, but now anyone who touched their things soon died from invisible poison. I guessed that meant all dreams die eventually, but I brushed away that dark thought.

Wild animals in the forests that might try to eat me were much safer. Father had his arrows, not that he ever wanted to teach me to shoot. Nothing stopped the invisible.

I stared at the castle. King Thor had built his fortress next to a death sentence on the belief that there was nothing left of the ancients to fear, but then he started a revolution that led to the loss of countless lives. Stories of his good looks were probably nothing more than pipe dreams of those who followed him.

I discovered the baker stall as my nostrils filled with the scent of sweet pastries. I licked my lips and imagined the taste of sugar. Mother had made a delicious pie once. The baker nodded his head. Have you been living in the forest? On the run from London?

Yeah. I lied, again. I'd have never run from London or King Rex. I hate him and one day I will find a way to let my mother truly rest in peace. For years they'd found people in the forest who used their hidden camp as a stopover. How did you guess?

You're dress is hopeless. He was right, it was. At least the baker took my word at face value as he stared at my arm. Did you come into town for your DNA results?

Not results. Today I took the test. I held my arms together in front of me, meekly folded. I probably looked foolish. My family was late. We were super busy.

Of course it's good. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life until the day of the test. The mandatory testing signals the skills we were given and what we can do to be successful. The test is always right because now I own my own shop. I'm good at what I do. I'm happy.

I don't think we should have to take this silly test.

He leaned against the cart and wrapped a bun. In the end we all have our roles to play. Your father should have brought you in from the forest years ago. You might have earned money to buy a nice dress.

He smiled and pointed at my dress. I know it's ugly, but I'm not good with stitch work. I wasn't good at much except giving my opinion. I lifted my head as he coughed and said, Would you like to buy something sweet to soothe your worries for the next week?

No, thank you. The pastries smelled like warm sugar goodness, but I didn't have the money. I'm not worried.

He shook his head and went to speak to a young girl who might be eight years old. She picked a square of chocolate with fudge topping from the baker.

I turned away. The ancients nearly scorched every piece of this earth. No one should listen to them. They blessed us with these dumb DNA rules that tell what we are supposed to do with our lives. My family lived off the grid, so it's not like the BloodRite truly mattered. I'm Gwen, the daughter of my father, a run away knight and his lady who lived off the land and we swore allegiance to no one, not Thor, not Rex, not this city of London. I pressed my lips together.

Father had said Mother wanted me to know. It's why I gave in. I looked up to the sky and the afternoon sun. He was late. I wondered if he'd met with one of the people he'd sheltered in our secret forest fort. Who else would he know?

Another girl about my age walked down the street. Her brown hair was darker than mine, and she had a pretty black mark on the left side of her chin. Her dress was also sewn from a large cleaner needle. I decided to approach her. Good day. Would you know what time it is?

It's early in the afternoon, Miss. She avoided my gaze as she stared at the sun dial that hung over the square until she noticed my clothes. She must have thought us equals. Good day, she said.

The bluish string she had made her dress from seemed thick and sturdy, and not like the soft fabrics of the town dwellers. I like your dress.

The girl fidgeted with a thread as she shook her head. If I'm to live here inside Avalon, I hope to earn enough to buy one of those linen outfits everyone else wears.

Linen outfits and nice fabrics were for people who didn't mind having a king. My father had saved us from this fate. I'd never live in a town. I swallowed as another memory slipped in my mind that I couldn't stop. My mother used to sing about silks for the summer and velvets for the winter, not that I know what they are.

I looked down at my scuffed boots as I rubbed the back of my neck. Silence clung for that moment, but then the other girl shrugged. I don't know either.

One lady I had glimpsed earlier wore a gown of gold that seemed spun from the air itself. Mother had told me that silk was expensive and soft. I pushed my hair behind my ear and wondered what my mother's life was like before she married father. Do you live in town now?

No. I'm here to beg King Thor to let me have another profession, but his appointments are a half an hour late. So I'm wasting time, talking to you.

Thor started a war when he rebelled against Rex, and I had no idea why people accepted him as a king. I stared at the sun again. Father was about a half an hour late, but that didn't matter. He'd not be in the castle. What did your blood test say that you don't want?

The young woman's lips curled in dismay. A sheep shearer.

That's actually a pretty good profession.

Why would you say that?

Test results like that would mean no one would ever see me or expect to see me. I tried to talk her into it. Shearing sheep means you wouldn't need to know the difference between linen and silk. You stay on the hills, away from all this.

She clutched her breasts like she made a wish. I want to though. I want to be a cordwainder and make amazing shoes for people. What did yours say?

I shrugged. This was exactly why no one should take the test. I don't know yet. Today was my test day.

You were late too then. She nodded. I hope it matches what you want. I should get back. I don't want to miss my appointment.

Good luck, I called out as the girl walked down a street toward the castle. My gaze followed her, but then I noticed my father coming on the same street in the opposite direction with his head down. His gray hair was covered with a scarf, his forehead wrinkled.

He knew I hadn't wanted to spend any time in this poisonous city and he'd told me he'd find me immediately after my test. I scowled at him and refused to care what bothered him. He rushed down the street in the last pair of pants Mother had made him, but he didn't see me.

I waved, then crossed my arms. Father, I'm here. He automatically turned toward me, barely avoiding a knight that rode down the street on his black horse. As the clack of hooves passed us, we stood side by side. My father held his hands over his stomach. Let's go.

His stomach better not hurt. I don't know how the poison starts, but nothing was going to happen to him if I could help it. Mother had taught us herbal remedies. I hurried my step. I had a good tea at home. Yes, let's. I never want to be in Avalon again.

It was necessary.

I don't care about the stupid law.

One day you might.

We walked outside of the gate and I winced. The giant charred buildings of Camelot blocked the mountains. Many people died from getting too close. In the winter, pure white snow almost covered the ugly blackness, at least from the distance we lived. The black city was like a ghostly reminder that death can creep through the veins. I gazed at the sky. It was later than it should be.

My father said, The ancients built a once beautiful Camelot years ago close to here.

I crossed my arms. The charred sky buildings should be a warning to not live in towns.

History teaches us the mistakes of the past so we don't make the same ones. We're not meant to live alone, Gwen. Avalon exists because Thor's people wanted a place of their own to call home.

Since Mother died, he'd been obsessed with reading his books. I clenched my jaw. Don't quote me history.

A man and his flock of sheep walked in the other direction on the road. My throat closed as tightness grew in my chest. Nothing in my father's books would ever bring Mother back to us. Rex's fire bolts killed her and my sisters, all because of some war with Thor.

My father fixed his bow on his back as he always did every ten minutes on our walks. He coughed and asked, Why not speak about Thor and Rex? Thor's a smart ruler.

Kings killed good people like Mother. I fisted my hands and held my chin high. Calm down, Gwen. I gazed around and swallowed. Thor's rebellion caused this war. He shouldn't be a king. No one should bow to him.

My father clutched his stomach and bit his lips together. How do you think this war between kings might end, child?

Something changed in him after Mother died. I drew a breath in and let it out slowly, but that didn't stop the fire in my blood. Some queen will ultimately decide the fate of two kings? Father, you shouldn't believe stupid legends. They should stop fighting.

That's unrealistic.

And legends of a queen aren't? I placed my hands on my hips as we walked up the hill and wished he'd never bring this topic up, ever again. Thor started as a vassal to Rex until his blood test. He should have accepted who he was and ignored that test.

Your mother's test showed she was better than me, and all our lives she proved it. Mother died next to the river in a fire. Cruel kings and the BloodRite to rule did that. Father let go of his stomach, but put his hands behind his back to check on the quiver of arrows as we re-entered the forest. Soon we'd disappear into the blackness of the dense trees and oncoming night sky. I didn't say anything, so Father continued, And what about those who wish to be away from London's rule?

Rex's city of London never entered my thoughts except when people found us in the forest. I clasped my hands together until my knuckles turned white. The tightness in my chest grew to my face and jaw. That's so far away, completely on the other side of England. Besides, it's not about what people want. It's about what's best for all of us. Thor's rebellion will lead us to our modern end much like the charred buildings in the sky were destroyed. England can't have two kings. There is only room enough for one.

The trees grew denser now. Father hummed. So we submit to London and Rex?

I lifted my chin. Rex was the son of the king and his BloodRite was well known. If Thor stopped, Rex could end his cruelty. We'd all be better off if he ignored the people. Yes.

We'd never be part of the power struggle. War on horseback, with knights and needless destruction, was for people who lived in towns and sought out others to help them survive. We are self-sufficient.

My father moved closer to me and placed his hand on my back. I worry about you.

I stepped away from his arm. The last time he said that, I stopped to speak to him instead of going with Mother to work by the river. The fire arrows that destroyed my mother's pottery shed came from Rex's soldiers in our forest as they marched toward Thor.

Jax and Cyna had gone with Mother that day. Now Father and I are all that is left of our family. I let my hands fall to my sides. My stomach felt full of rocks as I lowered my voice to a whisper. Why?

He covered his mouth as his eyes stared at me. A branch caught my dress, and he lifted it so I could pass easier. It's getting late. Let's hurry through the trees.

He'd avoid the river, not that I blamed him. My lips trembled. Every time we tried to speak of Mother, I ended up crying and he shut down. My father took faster steps. I'll be happy to get home. Nothing will happen to us there.

Any day the war might destroy Father, me or anyone who stayed in our secret camp. Soldiers roamed the forest more frequently in the past year. My adrenaline spiked.

Father kept his voice low. Your mother would be proud of you for today. That pleases me.

The moon peeked out early, though the sun wasn't done. I became dizzy and light-headed. This was the closest we’d come to talking about Mother. Father, I love you. You know that. And the BloodRite doesn't matter. Unless it tells me I'll be a kitchen worker feeding lost souls as they pass through the forest, I will never accept what it says.

The night covered our tracks better as we made our way through the evergreens. He scratched his head. You might have no choice.

My nerve endings were raw now as the cool night breeze came over us. He had changed so much. We have a choice. It's what you and Mother always said.

One or two of the women in town wore soft fine fabrics that mother used to talk about. Fine ladies as Mother had said preferred to be soft. It was why no one taught me to shoot an arrow despite how horrible I was at stitching. I rubbed my aching eyes but refused to cry. I miss her.

Father's voice almost sounded like a whisper of a dream. Me, too.

The BloodRite Mother had taken caused her to run away from life as a lady's maid to be with Father. Father had built our home to keep her safe from Rex and rules of kings. I ran my fingers through my knotted hair. Perhaps if the test read archer, he'd teach me.

I swallowed back that thought.

Father stared into the packed pines that had no obvious path, and ensured no one else was near them. A wolf howled in the far distance. You mother always said you were intelligent.

Then an owl hooted. I smiled and imagined the owl thought father spoke to him. My lips were chapped, not that I had any more of that salve mother had made for me. I'm smart enough. Why do you say that now?

He ran his hands on the top of my head and mussed it. I sidestepped out of his grasp as I was not a child anymore. You'll need to be, Princess.

I grimaced and smoothed down my thin knotted mess of hair. Don't call me that.

Let's not fight anymore. We're both tired. We'll be home soon enough.

I nodded. Agreed.

The BloodRite was for town folk, which we were not. My thoughts returned to the girl in Avalon who wore a dress like mine. I hoped Thor let her make shoes. Despite our arguing these days, I was happy enough with my father.

The wind blew against my cheeks and battered that thought in my head. Father yawned beside me. I hoped he was just tired, and not poisoned. Mother would want me to look out for him. I rubbed my arms. We'd never venture far out of the woods ever again.

Chapter 2

Eat more, I told the young boy, Proclus, who'd recently joined our secret camp in the woods. He was so skinny. You'll need your strength.

The boy kept his head down so low one would think he hoped to avoid trouble. For a ten-year-old he was too small.

Gwen, if I eat too fast, my stomach hurts.

Another starving run-away from the war. In their forest, there were always people always ran from skirmishes near their homes. Most people returned to whatever it was the BloodRite said they did once the nearby battle ended. As Proclus had no family, he might stick around. I scanned the trees that hid our outpost from a slit in the kitchen window. Then don't eat so fast. If you want big muscles, you're going to have to eat the whole bowl.

I checked my cabinet and my food rations for today would work just fine. Now that I cooked the meals, nobody noticed how I split the shares. Proclus had clearly starved for who knows how long, but not today. After I scooped out his special extra ration, I dropped the spoon I used for serving the venison stew in the pot.

Soon I'd take everything to the river for washing in a heated water contraption a former guest had set up for us that Mother had loved. I hugged my waist and shook my head at the dirty dishes. If Mother were here, she'd fuss that her job never ended. Cyna would roll her eyes while Jax would have covered her mouth to stop a laugh. I hugged my stomach and told myself not to think about my sisters. My mother.

The birds chirped outside, as if they were happy, but my stomach clenched, which told me something was off.

Trumpets blared. I stepped back from the window, startled. Only soldiers announced themselves that way, and no soldier should be here.

I brushed the long sheath dress I wore that had once been white and tried to make it clean. The dirt wouldn't rub off. I peeked outside the slit again, but didn't see anything. If this was an ambush, we'd all be trapped inside.

I squinted to bring the edge of the gates into focus and covered my lips. Knights on foot were right outside our encampment. The sound of trumpets echoed through my window as the boy at the table took his bowl, his bow and arrow, and ran.

I sighed and cracked my knuckles as I ensured everything in the kitchen was off. A fire in the forest would destroy us. As I finished, I prayed somehow Father had enough time to ensure the trees were pulled tight against the outpost so no one might see, and that the trumpets didn't exist.

I rushed to the library where my father spent most of his days now. As I stepped into the room, I twisted my rumpled shapeless dress. Knights are outside the door. Why didn't you pull the trees around the wall of our camp?

Father turned