The Secluded Queen, page 4
Myra helped her poor husband to his feet, allowing him to lean on her shoulder as he stumbled towards the doorway with her. Some High Councilmen hollered after them. “What of the settlers? They finally move. They are ready to establish another Great City.”
the King grunted, then answered, “Give them... ah! All that we can. Help them... help them...” Then, he could not speak from the pain and folded forward and wretched on the floor.
Myra barked orders then, assertively taking control of the room. “Send me Gem Shavek, head of Mech Deployment, and send for the doctors to heal Laexor.” She nearly slipped in the vomit as she stumbled forward, the usher finally helping her with the King’s dead weight. “And for the Mother, someone clean this mess up!”
Chapter 3
By the time the sunrise decided to show its face, Veronica felt like a dried date in a hot desert. Her head pounded rhythmically with her heartbeat, and the pain was terrible— so terrible that she could scarcely open her eyes. It felt like she had been hit over the head with a club and was rendered in two. She wanted to lay there in perpetuity, but she knew that if she continued to be slovenly, the pain would just get worse. She needed to get out of this room and get some fresh air. Her mother had always argued that sunlight was the best healer, and the way the sunlight had lifted her the previous afternoon certified that her mother was a genius.
She didn’t bother to change out of her dress. As far as anyone else was concerned, she was still in mourning, and a black dress was the best way to send that message. She did straighten out the wrinkles before leaving the room, though. She still had to put on an air of strength, after all. That fact had not changed, and after a night of raw emotion, she was more paranoid than ever.
Edward had been murdered, poisoned by a coward while his guard was down. Whoever it is could be imagining and planning my death right now.
Sir Richard was still standing guard in the hallway outside, and he greeted her with a pained smile. “It is good to see you up and at it, my Queen. How might I serve you?”
His boisterous and gruff voice was like drums banging in her head with every syllable. Veronica grimaced and pinched the bridge of her nose to help control the head pain. “Sir Richard, could you speak with less volume?”
He seemed to know her pain, cracking a grin. He bowed to her and made an honest attempt to speak quieter, though it didn’t seem to make much of a difference to Veronica. “My apologies, my Queen. Is your discomfort originating somewhere... between your two ears?”
She nodded, miserable.
He gave an encouraging smile. “I happen to know of a quick tonic for head pain. If you are willing, I can take you to the dining room and mix a glass up for you in the kitchens.”
Veronica nodded weakly, grateful to the man for helping her without asking. It wasn’t that she was too proud to ask for help, but she wasn’t sure who she could trust at this moment in her Queenship other than the Royal Guard. Everyone has an angle, but the Royal Guard had nothing to gain and everything to lose from their Queen’s death. Asking for help to mix a tonic for head pain would send the message to the assassin, whoever it was, that my guard was down.
Sir Richard bowed and gestured for her to take the lead down the long spiral staircase, and she did, ever so slowly. She had never spent so much time on these stairs since coming to the castle. Her trip up last night and this descent made her feel old and brittle. Veronica stepped off the final stair and turned to make her way to the dining room, but didn’t make it far before tumultuous footsteps echoed off the stone walls, and Frederick William of the High Council rounded the corner leading to the Great Hall.
He paused, took a few deep, steadying breaths, and looked at Veronica with worry and unease. “Queen Veronica, there is a matter at hand that I must speak with you about at once.”
Veronica sighed, annoyed. Couldn’t I have a little time to take care of myself?
He looked her up and down, blankly taking in every detail of her disheveled appearance, before continuing. “My dear Queen, you look like you have been through a terrible night.” He flicked his eyes towards Sir Richard, who was looking back at Frederick with the expression of someone who had just had a drink that was too strong for him. “I trust a servant is seeing to your recovery?”
“Yes, Frederick, Sir Richard was just about to help me in the dining room.”
Frederick’s face lit up, and he smiled widely. “Excellent. We can discuss this urgent matter over breakfast.”
Sir Richard picked up Veronica’s need to be alone and tried to get her out of the presumptuous breakfast invitation. “High Councilman Frederick, may we postpone this meeting until Queen Veronica has had time for the tonic to work on her? I saw you taking your breakfast earlier this morning, and I would hate to waste the Councilman’s time as I mix the tonic for our fair Queen.”
Frederick laughed. “Oh, Sir Richard, you do jest well. It is no matter. I will consider this as a brunch rather than a breakfast, so you needn’t worry yourself any further. I am quite fond of brunch and take it whenever I have the opportunity.”
The dining room was one of the roomiest areas in the well-used castle keep, and uncomfortably well-lit, with many lamps lining the walls, each making her headache worse. The long table sat in the middle of the large room and was already set. Queen Veronica, trying not to wince from the bright light, took her seat at the head of the table, with Frederick sitting adjacent to her, while Sir Richard made his leave to go and prepare the tonic he had promised Veronica. She rubbed her temples and winced from the pain.
I hope his tonic does the trick and doesn’t turn out to be only a classic Sir Richard boast.
Frederick watched Sir Richard leave into the kitchens and, as soon as the door closed behind him, wasted no time diving into the issue urgent enough to impose himself on the Queen’s breakfast. He leaned forward and spoke in low tones, his eyes locked on hers. “Queen Veronica, rumors have been spreading rapidly amongst the servants regarding a certain letter from the King of Phoenicia.”
Veronica’s heart sank into her stomach as she remembered how careless she had been with something of such high importance. “Y-yes, I received a letter from King Alfonso after I returned to my bedchamber... after...” She trailed off, choking on her words.
He smiled softly into her face. “The loss of King Edward cannot be relayed with mere words.”
She shook her head no, hand held to her mouth, trying to compose herself again.
“Well, my Queen, the servants are spreading the rumor that you have been in a secret courtship with King Alfonso and that you plan to marry him to unite Anatolia and Phoenicia. As you know, any rumors about a new monarch create a certain...” He paused as a servant entered and placed a serving tray of hot biscuits with butter, an assortment of fresh fruits, and a half dozen hard-boiled eggs between the pair. “It creates a certain instability. If the people believe that you were disloyal to our late King Edward, they may assume other facts as well. There is a bit of mystery to King Edward’s death, and if the kingdom believes that the new Queen was behind his demise...”
Veronica was appalled and furious. She leaned forward, until her face was only inches away from Frederick Williams’, whispering loudly into his face, “Are you insinuating that I had a hand in the death of my husband?!? Edward was poisoned, and I intend to find out who was behind it.”
Frederick waved his hands as if to stop her from leaping over the table and attacking him. “Poppycock! King Edward died of natural causes. It was organ failure, and all of the doctors agreed. And no, I would never assume that our beautiful Queen could do such a thing as murder her King. But what the servants believe, the townsfolk believe, and word travels fast to the ten cities. Tell me, my Queen, do you still have this letter from Phoenicia?”
She went pale and shook her head no. “I was careless and threw it on the floor in anger over the forwardness and timing of the letter. I feel like a fool for not burning it!”
Frederick shook his head woefully. “I am glad you did not burn it. We need it as evidence to clear your name, and if a servant delivered it to you, then many must already know of the odd and untimely letter. But, it was indeed a mistake to leave it unprotected.” He took a bite of his bread and leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. “I believe that the matter is not at all hopeless. If we take certain precautions, we may be able to counter such rumors with the appearance that the crown has nothing to hide.” He took another bite of his bread.
“And what precautions do you think are necessary?”
He covered his mouth to conceal a light burp. “It would look suspicious at this time if you were to travel from the Castle Myra. I advise the crown that they should remain at Castle Myra and in plain sight until these rumors can be quelled. Leaving, or the appearance of leaving, would give evidence of wrongdoing, and we do not need to weaken the crown during this time of transition.”
Veronica nodded. “Thank you for your advice, Frederick.”
He smiled and buttered himself another helping of bread, his jewelry clattering. Veronica stared pensively at the table, pondering the implications of what was just said. Who could have gotten the letter between the time I threw it on the floor last night and when I arose for the morning? I will have to inquire with Sir Richard about who entered my room. If he let someone by without letting me know...
Sir Richard entered the room carrying a large glass of a strange green concoction. He took a sip of the liquid, testing it for poison, before placing it in front of Veronica, grimacing from the taste. “Here you are, my Queen. The finest head pain tonic ever mixed!” He took a seat at the table, a place sitting away from Veronica, and helped himself to some bread and butter.
Frederick laughed. “I see that the Royal Guard isn’t above indulging in a second breakfast as well?”
Sir Richard chortled, “I seem to remember the High Councilman calling it a brunch. And no, the Royal Guard never passes an opportunity to eat ourselves some brunch.”
Frederick snickered, and Veronica sniffed at the tonic suspiciously. It smelled of only alcohol. Sir Richard smiled at the Queen and swallowed his bite of bread before explaining. “The tonic is merely a pinch of Valerian root, a shot of liquor, salt, and water. It tastes worse than it smells but does the trick for many a soldier suffering from poor sleep during the harshness of a campaign.”
Well, there’s no way out of this now. She held her nose and downed the large glass all at once, very aware of how unladylike she was acting, but more concerned about being free of the unrelenting head pain. The tonic hit her stomach like an eruption, and she had to concentrate to keep the rising tides down.
Sir Richard threw his head back and laughed. “My fair Queen, if you only knew how many men could not keep that concoction down after only drinking half! You are a marvel of a woman.”
Frederick clicked his tongue in distaste. “Sir Richard, are you telling me that you administered a tonic to our fine Queen, who ran the risk of publicly disgracing herself by drinking it?”
Sir Richard frowned. “No risk, no victory.”
“My dear sir, I believe the saying is “No risk, no reward.”
“I believe you have that right, High Councilman, but as a military man, I believe in cutting out the extra. Victory is the only reward that I seek.”
Frederick smiled. “Well answered, Sir Richard.”
Meanwhile, Veronica felt as if she were both dehydrating and hydrating at the same time. The alcohol hit her stomach and burned, while the water seemed to absorb quickly due to the salt. It was an odd sensation. But the head pain was simply gone at the end of the discomfort. She clenched her eyes shut and opened them a few times, then smiled. “Sir Richard, if you ever leave the Royal Guard, you certainly have a future as an apothecary! That cured me between heartbeats!”
Sir Richard raised his eyebrows a few times at Frederick, who pretended not to notice. “My Queen, it is my utmost pleasure to aid you.”
“My sincere thanks for your willingness to confidentially help me with... unusual issues.” She looked at both men at the table. “My thanks to both of you.” She had lost her appetite—thanks to the harsh medicine—and she pushed her plate away from her to signal that she had finished eating. “Did either of you happen to see who entered my room in the middle of the night?”
Frederick raised an eyebrow at Sir Richard. “It seems, my Queen, that Sir Richard would be the individual with that information.”
Sir Richard looked puzzled. “After Caroline had entered and left with your dinner, no one came or went under my watch.”
Veronica looked at her plate, disappointed. “Oh, I see.”
“But uh, my Queen, if I may, I did step away from my post by your door after being relieved by Sir Phillip for a brief moment to go grab a cup of tea and a bite to eat. The night gets long. Perhaps Sir Phillip knows of a servant who entered your room?”
Well, there’s something to look into. “Where is Sir Phillip now?”
Frederick William swallowed his bread. “I do recall the youngest of the Royal Guard heading into the castle village.”
Sir Richard nodded, “Sounds like Phil. Always off gallivanting in the village.”
Veronica stood up from the table. “Please send him my way next you see him. Thank you for your assistance and advice. I wish to head outside to enjoy the sunshine.” Sir Richard rose to follow her, but she stayed him with an outstretched hand. “Alone.”
Sir Richard furrowed his brows. “My Queen, I must protest. With the recent death of our King, it would be unwise to allow you outside the safety of the keep without a member of the Royal guard.”
Frederick gave her a weak smile. “For once, I agree with Sir Richard. We must keep our beautiful Queen protected from those who may otherwise harm her.”
She consented, “You may accompany me, but please keep your distance. I need to be alone with my thoughts.” Sir Richard pursed his lips and nodded as he read between the lines. He knew she was an emotional wreck, that she was overwhelmed, and that she had some monumental decisions ahead of her that she needed to ponder on.
She decided that before she headed outside, she should go look for the letter from Alfonso. She was floored to find it was still there, crumpled in a ball just inside her bedroom door. She shook her head, confused. Since the letter was still where I left it, how could the servants have known its contents? The letter was sealed when I received it. She eyed the bed, so inviting, exhausted as she was, but the rest of the room felt like the center of that mausoleum. It felt like death, and there was that feeling again—the feeling of something lurking just out of sight. She uncrumpled the letter, stored it safely in the folds of her dress, and left her bedchamber.
She pondered on the mystery of the letter and the rumors surrounding it to keep her mind off Edward. Even if someone had managed to open the letter without breaking the seal, it wasn’t common for servants to be able to read. She had her suspicions about her handmaid, Caroline. There had been other instances prior to this where servants had found out about covert matters of the Crown when it had never actually been spoken out loud. There had to be someone working here at the Castle that was more than what they seemed.
The seasons were changing, moving from the end of summer into the brilliant colors of autumn, and some of the trees surrounding the Castle were already starting to change color. The heat of the summer was still present while the cool winds of autumn kissed her cheeks and filled her lungs. It was a time of change in the world and in her life as well. The warmth of Edward’s love was fading with the march of time, while the cold winds of uncertainty and fear swirled towards her.
The cobblestone pathways clicked beneath her heels, and she had to be aware of each step so as not to stumble on an uneven stone. The Castle’s jade accents didn’t match the new colors of the trees, and the contrast was quite an eyesore. She passed the altar of Cybele and turned onto the path that led into the castle village. She stood out like a sore thumb, still wearing her black dress from the funeral. During her childhood, she often found herself alone in The Great City Patara while her father built his merchant empire. She needed to re-center her life, and the emotional support that came from familiar surroundings felt secure.
She passed a group of nomads that had made makeshift lodgings on the outskirts of the village. Their chests were bare against the elements. They wore leather pants to protect their legs while traveling and sturdy leather shoes to protect their feet from thorns. They looked worn, the entire lot of them, but undoubtedly strong and resilient. Many of the young men stopped to stare at the Queen as she passed, whispering indecipherable comments to their fellows. The group seemed to have ventured into the city to trade Damascus blades that they had purchased from far-off lands, as many of them were busy polishing their wares, and many more swords were laid aesthetically on animal hides for display to the passersby.
Once past the group of tents, the shade from the permanent shops enveloped her, and she hugged herself for warmth. Paranoia coated her skin, a feeling similar to the cold air, igniting a fear that she was being hunted. I was a fool asking to leave the keep alone. Thank the Mother Goddess Cybele that Sir Richard is with me. She watched her people pass by, carrying various bags and trinkets, pulling carts by horse or hand, but the perceived threat was not visible. She did not believe it would be a common Anatolian from the village who would harm her but rather someone with more power. Of course, everything was mere speculation, her consciousness creating a trail of breadcrumbs that drew her into the dark woods of conspiracy. If an assassin were hiding amongst them, it would have been foolish to let her guard down so soon. She casually turned and scanned the people behind her for her man in jade armor. He was there, barely visible between some merchants. She breathed easy, comforted by the bold knight’s presence, then turned back to continue walking in the same direction.
