Chapter 6 Crown of Ashes

# Chapter 6: Crown of Ashes

Consciousness returns in waves—first sound, then sensation, finally sight. I'm being carried, my body limp in strong arms. The scent of gunpowder and sweat tells me it's Elias even before I open my eyes.

"She's dead because of you," he's saying, his voice vibrating through his chest against my ear. "Your perfect weapon turned against you."

"A temporary setback." Heinrich's voice, strained but still commanding. "Bring her to the throne room. The people must see their queen has fallen."

I keep my breathing shallow, my muscles slack. The poison I drank—a concoction of my own design—creates a death-like state for hours. The cyanide pill Elias slipped me wasn't cyanide at all, but the activating agent that would stabilize my condition, preventing actual death.

A gamble, but one I'd prepared for since his return. I'd left the pill in his quarters weeks ago with instructions should the worst happen. He'd understood immediately.

Now I listen as boots echo on marble floors. The throne room. The symbolic heart of Habsburg power, where countless monarchs before me received their crowns. Where I will now stage my final act.

"Lay her on the dais," Heinrich orders. "Carefully. She must appear peaceful in death."

Elias sets me down, his hands lingering a moment longer than necessary. A warning? A farewell? I cannot tell.

"The revolution forces have breached the main gate," someone reports—Bishop Alaric's voice. "We have perhaps twenty minutes before they reach the throne room."

"Time enough." Heinrich sounds calm despite the circumstances. "When they arrive, they'll find their martyr already made. The queen, poisoned by revolutionaries."

"They'll never believe that," Elias scoffs. "Not when her own lips accused you."

"Her lips will say nothing now," Heinrich replies. "And yours won't either, once I've finished with you."

I hear the distinctive click of a pistol being cocked. My heart races, but I maintain my deathlike stillness. Not yet. The timing must be perfect.

"Any final words, revolutionary?" Heinrich asks. "Before you join your queen?"

"She was never my queen," Elias answers, his voice steady. "She was something far more dangerous—a Habsburg who understood her people's suffering."

"How poetic." Heinrich's tone drips with contempt. "Your death will be less so."

"Heinrich!" My father's voice rings out. "Enough blood has been shed."

I hear shuffling, the sounds of my parents being brought into the throne room under guard.

"Your Majesties," Heinrich greets them with mock deference. "Come to witness the end of your dynasty? How fitting that you should be here. The last of the Habsburgs, together at last."

"The people will never accept your rule," my mother says, her voice stronger than I remember. "Not after what you've done."

"The people will accept what they're told to accept," Heinrich replies. "They always have."

A commotion erupts outside—shouts, gunfire, the unmistakable roar of revolutionary forces drawing nearer. Our time runs short.

"Bind them," Heinrich orders. "When the rebels arrive, they'll find the royal family executed by their own queen's hand before she took her own life. A tragic end to a troubled dynasty."

"You're insane," Elias says.

"I'm a survivor," Heinrich corrects. "Something you failed to become."

I hear the rustle of paper—a document being unfolded.

"What's this?" my father demands.

"A confession in Adelaide's hand," Heinrich explains. "Detailing how she poisoned her own parents after discovering their imprisonment. How the guilt drove her to suicide."

My blood boils at his audacity. My carefully crafted forgery—meant for another purpose entirely—now turned against my family.

"She would never write this," my mother insists.

"Wouldn't she? The girl I raised was capable of anything." Heinrich's footsteps approach me. "Such a waste of potential."

His fingers brush my cheek almost tenderly. It takes every ounce of willpower not to flinch from his touch.

"Sir!" A guard bursts in. "They've breached the inner courtyard! We have minutes at most!"

"Then we finish this now." Heinrich's voice hardens. "Captain, execute the revolutionary. Make it messy—evidence of a struggle."

"Wait." Elias's voice cuts through the chaos. "Let me say goodbye to her first."

A pause. Then Heinrich's amused response: "Sentiment. Your fatal flaw. Make it quick."

Footsteps approach. I feel Elias kneel beside me, his breath warm against my face as he whispers words meant only for me.

"Now or never, Adelaide."

His lips brush mine—a kiss that serves as both farewell and signal.

In one fluid motion, I seize his arm, using his body to shield my movement as I draw the slim dagger hidden in my boot. Before anyone can react, I'm on my feet, blade pressed against Heinrich's throat.

"Surprise," I whisper in his ear.

The room freezes in tableau—guards with weapons half-raised, my parents wide-eyed with shock, Bishop Alaric backing toward the exit.

"Adelaide?" My mother's voice breaks on my name.

"Hello, Mother." I keep my eyes on Heinrich, my blade steady against his pulse. "I'll embrace you properly once I've finished with your jailer."

Heinrich doesn't struggle, doesn't plead. His eyes meet mine with something almost like pride. "Well played, Your Majesty. You truly were my finest student."

"Drop your weapons," I order the guards. "Or your commander bleeds out on Habsburg marble."

They hesitate, looking to Heinrich for guidance.

"Do as she says," he commands, pragmatic even now. "She won't kill me. She needs me alive to stand trial. To legitimize her rule."

I laugh softly. "You still don't understand, do you? I'm not ruling anymore."

With my free hand, I reach for the crown sitting on its ceremonial pillow beside the throne. The weight is familiar as I lift it—gold and burden in equal measure.

"Elias," I call, never taking my eyes from Heinrich. "Come here."

He approaches cautiously, as if I might be a mirage that will vanish at any moment.

"Take this," I say, extending the crown toward him. "You wanted change? You bury the corpses now."

Confusion crosses his face. "Adelaide, what are you doing?"

"Abdicating. In favor of a regency council." I press the crown into his hands. "Led by the man the people trust."

Heinrich stiffens against my blade. "You can't be serious. A revolutionary as regent? The neighboring kingdoms will never recognize—"

"They'll recognize whoever holds the power," I interrupt. "As you taught me."

The doors to the throne room burst open. Revolutionary soldiers flood in, weapons raised. They falter at the scene before them—the presumed-dead queen holding a knife to the spymaster's throat, the revolutionary leader holding the crown.

"Perfect timing," I call to them. "Witness the end of one era and the beginning of another."

I feel a sudden, sharp pain between my ribs—Heinrich's hidden blade finding its mark despite my vigilance. I gasp, stumbling backward as warm blood spreads across my side.

"Adelaide!" My mother's scream echoes through the chamber.

Heinrich lunges for freedom, but Elias is faster. The crown drops to the floor with a resonant clang as he tackles the spymaster. They struggle briefly before Elias pins him, hands around Heinrich's throat.

"Do it," Heinrich chokes out, eyes blazing with final defiance. "Prove you're no better than us."

I collapse to my knees, pressing a hand against my wound. "Elias, don't."

He looks back at me, conflict raging in his expression.

"Not like this," I continue, my voice weakening. "He faces justice. Real justice."

For a moment, I think he'll ignore me—that the revolutionary will overcome the man. Then, slowly, he releases his grip.

"Bind him," he orders his men. "He stands trial for treason against the people."

My parents rush to my side as I slump further. My father catches me before I hit the marble floor, cradling me as he hadn't since I was a child.

"My brave girl," he whispers, tears streaming down his weathered face. "Hold on."

Elias kneels beside us, his hands pressing against my wound. "We need a physician!"

I smile up at him, feeling strangely peaceful despite the pain. "It's over, Elias. We won."

"Stay with me," he pleads, his revolutionary composure cracking at last. "Adelaide, stay with me."

My vision darkens at the edges. The last thing I see is Heinrich being dragged away, his final glance at me a mixture of hatred and—strangest of all—respect.

Then darkness claims me entirely.

---

I awaken to sunlight and the scent of roses. Not the afterlife—my mother's private garden, where I lie on a chaise, bandaged and weak but very much alive.

"The sleeping queen awakens." Elias sits beside me, dark circles beneath his eyes suggesting he's barely left my side.

"Not queen anymore," I remind him, voice raspy from disuse. "Remember?"

"About that." He shifts uncomfortably. "There's been a development."

I struggle to sit up, wincing as my wound protests. "What's happened? How long was I unconscious?"

"Three days." He helps me adjust the pillows. "Heinrich is dead."

This surprises me. "The trial—"

"There was no trial. He was found in his cell, killed with his own poisoned knife." Elias watches me carefully. "A very specific poison, according to the physician. One that would have been undetectable if not for the distinctive blue residue it left on his lips."

I meet his gaze steadily. "How unfortunate."

"Adelaide..."

"What happens now?" I ask, changing the subject.

He sighs, recognizing my deflection. "Your parents have temporarily resumed leadership, with the revolutionary council's blessing. They're... different from what I expected."

"Years of imprisonment changes people." I look out at the garden, at the freedom my parents can finally enjoy. "What about you? Still planning to overthrow the monarchy?"

"I'm considering a more... collaborative approach to change." His hand finds mine atop the blanket. "With the right partner."

The implication hangs between us, fragile as morning mist.

"And the people?" I ask. "Will they accept a Habsburg who let them believe she was dead?"

"They might accept one who nearly died fighting tyranny. Who was willing to give up her crown for their freedom."

I shake my head, unconvinced. "They'll never trust me. Not after everything."

"Then we start again." He squeezes my hand. "Together."

A servant appears at the garden entrance. "Your Highness, the council is assembled."

Elias stands reluctantly. "I have to go. But I'll return this evening."

As he turns to leave, I call after him. "Elias? Thank you. For seeing me when no one else did."

He smiles—the first genuine smile I've seen from him since our childhood. "I always saw you, Adelaide. Even when I was fighting against everything you represented."

After he's gone, I close my eyes, feeling the sun on my face. For the first time since I was a child, the weight of the crown—real or metaphorical—doesn't press upon me.

Heinrich's voice echoes in my memory: "Your parents begged for death. I made them wait."

His own death came swiftly, painlessly—more mercy than he deserved. The blue residue on his lips wasn't from any poison he knew.

It was from mine.

Some lessons, once learned, cannot be unlearned. Some crowns, though removed, leave permanent marks.

I open my eyes to the new world we've created—one built on the ashes of the old, watered with blood, but perhaps, finally, ready to bloom.