Crooked Crown: Fire Kingdom, #1

By Angela Kulig

A princess of fire, a court of snakes, and a destiny written in blood.

 

Once at home on the battlefield, eighteen-year-old Sondra has grown weary of waging war in the name of peace. Disillusioned by the kingdom she's been trained since birth to kill for, Sondra longs for a world free of death and broken hearts.

 

After bad intelligence sees Sondra's men blamed for an unspeakable crime against a defenseless town, she returns home to find her family's power splintering and uncertainty sweeping in like the tide. 

 

Court games, however, can not be won by wielding a blade. As Sondra struggles to find her footing in a castle filled with serpents, her only companions are the lord of black fire she betrayed and a farm boy that will never be home in her kingdom of wickedness and ruin.

 

When it's not a happy ending but a crown that becomes Sondra's fate, she may burn the whole world to the ground just to rise from its ashes. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angela Kulig
• Release date: Jan 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215482292

Book preview

Prologue

It was to be death by pyre.

I could hear the bone-rattling beat of the drums. I could feel it in the ground below my feet and even in my legs as they turned to jelly on my perch.

As the sun rose over the kingdom, I stood like a vanishing wraith atop the marbled castle walls, afraid of the light that would expose me. I watched in horror as the villagers gathered in the town square below. They were like stains of ink on the stone roads. The fresh, bright smell of early morning blotted out with the smell of them—the calm hum of dawn washed away in a tide of gossip and noise.

It was to be a great show—though it was one my family thought I wasn't old enough to see yet. I'd lived in the castle my whole life. I had seen sentencing before but never one like this.

A small wooden platform had been erected in the center of the square, and upon it stood a man, his hands tied behind his back. He was limp. The fight in him was gone. His face contorted in fear. It looked like a black smear from my height. A shadow. A memory. As if the pain were even further away than I was.

The earth went still and silent.

Sunlight, slow at first, had finally burst forth, and with it, another roll of the drums.

My grandfather, the king, was furious. Though you couldn't tell it by his calm unlined face. I knew, and I knew my uncle did, too, as he stood behind him.

I wondered which one had ordered the traitor brought before them like this, shackled and in chains—so near to death he required none of their aid to get there. Neither wore their grounds, but their blond hair, the same as mine, lit up around them brighter than gold.

The man was dragged to a tall, notched post and retied with no fuss. No one else moved, lest they miss something. Not even me, though I know I risked being spotted.

The traitor's head was a mess of matted gray hair—and slick. Streaked with something so dark even the daylight couldn't touch it. His clothes, which must have once been fine, were filthy and falling apart.

The king looked at him with a cold and practiced gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and disappointment. A look I knew all too well.

You, who were once my trusted advisor, have betrayed me, your king, and your kingdom. For this crime, there is only one punishment: death. The king's voice was loud and clear, resonating through the crowd as cleanly as if he'd sliced it with the blade he wore by his hip.

Only the last word was a hiss of smoke and ash.

The traitor looked up, his face a new etching of terror. Please, my king, I beg for mercy, he pleaded loudly, I was coerced. I had no choice.

The king's expression did not change. If it hurt him, and I knew it did, he would not show it.

You had a choice, and you chose to betray your kingdom and your king. Fire doesn't forgive, was all he said.

Those words, more than any others, would stick with me. Those words were the ones that would seep into my blood like a poison.

The fire was lit. It needed no fuel. Treason was tinder enough. The sound of his shackles clanking against each other was as bad as his screams. The king watched this. He would not look away—still, his heart was heavy with the weight of the betrayal and made worse by the harshness of the world that had begotten it.

He knew that it was necessary, but it did not ease the pain in his heart. Nor mine.

The traitor's execution was carried out quickly and without further ceremony. The crowd was awful and necessary enough. His death was meant as a reminder. A warning to any others that might dare risk the ire of the eternal flame.

Their kingdom was like a red heart,my grandfather used to say.

Beating steadily and strongly, providing life and vitality to all those within its borders.

The king, like the heart's chambers, pumped the blood of leadership and decision-making throughout the kingdom, guiding and protecting its citizens. The subjects, like the blood vessels, worked together to keep the kingdom functioning, supporting the king and the kingdom's needs.

The economy and resources, like the hot scarlet blood, kept the kingdom strong and self-sustaining. A healthy heart is essential for a healthy body, just as a strong and just kingdom is essential for the well-being of its citizens.

Traitors were a cancer—if you didn't cut it out, it would kill.

The sound of the crowd turned to jeers just as the first crackling of the flames began to lick at the man's feet.

I clutched the stone walls. My heart beat with the thump that had begun again as I realized it was happening. The man was being burned at the stake, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Though I knew it was the only way, there was no stopping my sunlit wish that there was.

I had always known that justice could be harsh in the land of Fire, but I had never witnessed an execution before. There hadn't been a public one—not since I'd been old enough to catch wind of it.

It wasn't that I was sheltered within the walls of the castle, protected as I was—there was no escape from the brutality of the court.

As I watched, the man's screams that had filled the air came to a shrieking halt. I couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust and despair splash into my middle like a rock.

I knew I shouldn't be here. I knew that I should turn away and go back to the safety of my chambers. Pretend I hadn't seen what I knew I could never forget. Only something kept me rooted to the spot, unable to look away from where the man's terrified face even after he was only ash and dust.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew him, that he was someone I had seen before in the castle. Though my grandfather had called him an advisor, I couldn't quite place him, and as the breeze scattered his remains, I knew I never would.

Tears streamed down my face as I watched before I could make them stop, and I couldn't shake the feeling—the absurd feeling—that I was somehow responsible for this man's tragic fate.

I believed, absolutely, that my family was just and fair, but as I watched the man's life being taken away, I couldn't help but worry that that wouldn't always be true. When the smoke cleared and the ashes were no more, I knew that I could never look at my kingdom the same way. Something had changed. Something inside me was gone.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped without thinking. I'd nearly fallen head-first to my death from the wall. Just in time, I was caught by ankles and dropped in a heap on the solid ground. When I shook the stars from my eyes, I found my father standing behind me. He did not smile. His face was grim as he looked down at the crowd, still not disbursed.

You should not have witnessed this, my child, he said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

It is not fit for a princess to see such things? I asked.

My voice felt far sturdier than my legs, and I stayed where I'd landed.

It's not fit for a princess of so few years to see such things, he amended.

I couldn't bring myself to speak again, but I couldn't tear her gaze away from my father's face. I didn't even want to breathe. I should be punished for sneaking out, for putting myself in danger by climbing onto the wall. I'd been punished for far less.

My father sighed and pulled me into a hug. I know it is difficult to understand, but sometimes justice must be served in difficult ways. This man was a traitor to the kingdom, and his punishment was necessary to maintain order and protect our people.

I nodded, I understood, but there was something in my throat that nearly choked me. There had to be a better way. A way to bring justice without causing so much pain and suffering, and if there was maybe one day I'd be strong enough to find it.

As the sun spun further into the sky, I promised myself that one day I'd go looking for it. That I would do everything in my power to make a world less vicious than the one I'd seen. The king and his kingdom moved on, stronger and more united than ever before, determined to protect and defend their land from any future threats—but some days, I felt trapped there.

Chapter

One

Rain hit the windows. It fell in slow and weepy drops that came down as far apart as tears do.

What are you thinking of, cousin, making a face like that? Prince Camden said.

He'd managed to surprise me, no small feat in the nearly empty and echoing great hall. Even dark as it was. His blond hair was uncombed and in bad need of cutting. Double standard, I thought. Touching my own hair.

They were very nearly the same shade, but I'd pulled mine back into a heavy knot. Perfection was only for priests and princesses. Handsome princes were always given a pass.

Death, I said without hesitation.

It was all too complicated. My tangle of thoughts, haunting old promises, and something else, something I couldn't put my finger on. But death? Death was easy.

Camden just laughed. The sound bounced off the smooth marble walls until we were both laughing. I could say it was his charm, for he had it in spades, but it was a bond. Ours alone. We had other family, but we'd both lost our parents and had been raised by the kingdom. Even our grandparents, the king, and queen, could not lay claim to the same connection.

Come to cheer me up? I asked, turning to walk the rest of the way down the hall.

The rain was picking up. The only thing I could hope to see from the windows now were nightmares.

Cam smiled sheepishly as he kept up pace beside me, but it was no use. I knew damn well that hadn't been his goal—even as he achieved it.

Quite the opposite, I'm afraid, he said, though I thought the phrasing odd.

Camden feared nothing. That was the whole problem with him. He'd wind up breaking his neck or be felled by some enemy legion—and where would that leave me? The spare heir, and not a very good one. The Fire Queen was in name only. No power. No say.

Granted, I knew there were advisors who would prefer I'd stayed that way.

If I was being honest, it was probably all of them.

You've been summoned to the dragon's lair, Camden sighed, clutching his heart as though he'd been laid to rest just thinking about it.

And I suppose that means you aren't going with me, I said.

Not that I blamed him. I surely wouldn't have volunteered to go with him. I'd rather face an army. Hell, I had.

Certainly not, he elbowed me. I've only just come from my own quarterly chastising about being single and heirless.

Speaking of that, why haven't you taken one for the team? I asked him.

I'd meant my tone to be playful. Even I had to cringe at how harsh it had come out.

And what team is that, Camden said roughly, all I see is my traitor cousin taking our grandmother's side of all things—.

I shivered. It was hard to tell which of those words was worse. Traitor, or grandmother.

Sondra, I didn't mean—

I know you didn't, I said.

We'd stopped in the stone arch that connected the great hall to the living chambers. It was even darker there than it had been by the storm-covered windows.

I just am pointing out that it is easier for you than me to make sure the family continues on.

Camden pursed his lips. There were those in the country who would accuse my cousin of being simple. Cam had a mind, even if he mostly used it for battle. I knew he understood what I meant without me having said it.

I understand, cousin, I do, but you're the one always falling in and out of love. Just because things didn't work out with Bo—

Don't you dare even say his name, I hissed. I'm sure I'll hear enough of it in the next five minutes.

Both of us scowled at each other, a good show when we both knew neither of us could win.

So things haven't worked out with that name, I'm not allowed to say. I know there's someone new. I can tell. Don't you deny it.

I wouldn't deny it. Denying it would be as good as shouting it back at him. I just sucked my teeth and headed back on my way. There was never any use in keeping the dragon waiting.

You know I'll find out, he shouted after me.

You know I don't care, I shouted back.

Only by the time I made it to the ornate wooden door I'd lost the lion's share of my nerve. Music was playing softly from the other side. I wondered how large an audience I'd have this time before pushing my way in.

There was nothing I wanted to look at. I let my mind take me away. I had not a single good memory of my grandmother's parlor. Everything about it was like picking a scab that refused to heal.

I felt pulled too tight, too raw—and she hadn't even spoken to me yet. I took a steadying breath. It didn't help. Nothing helped. I stood before my grandmother, the queen, feeling a familiar mixture of anger and anxiety. I knew that I was in trouble, and I braced myself for the lecture I knew was coming.

It wasn't as though I hadn't memorized it by now.

Sondra, dear, you look tired, the queen began, her voice stern. I know your grandfather lets you gallivant all over the continent, but it really is time for you to slow down—perhaps find a proper husband and start a family of your own.

My grandmother said perhaps, as though she had ever even briefly considered other options. There was a time when my father and uncle were alive that she might have sent me away. Put a bow across my breast, and whisk me off to be the bride of some foreign king.

I didn't know if I should thank the Sparks for sparing me that fate or curse them for ridding me of my one escape.

And yet, despite all of my efforts, you continue to behave in a manner that is not befitting of a princess.

My fists clenched at my sides as I tried to control my anger. My nails were more jagged than I would like. I was built for bloodletting, not breeding. She knew I was not like the other court ladies, who were always preoccupied with finding a husband and settling down. So grandmother thought she had to do enough of that for both of us.

I'm sorry, Grandmother, I said through gritted teeth. But if you need me to say again that I do not wish to be married off to someone I do not love just for the sake of appearances, I will do it.

The queen's eyes narrowed. Your duty as a princess is to marry and produce an heir, not to shed blood on every battlefield in the land. It is time for you to put aside your childish ways and start acting like the young lady I raised you to be.

My anger was a dog that I could sick on the whole of the world, and I kicked it.