TWHoC: Chapter 8 - It is Best You Pray That He Does

As per her admittedly slightly overbearing instructions, Laurence completed his duties without approaching the river.  Beks was on guard the entire time, watching him as he and Lady Eleanor thanked the priest and then began a slow procession back to the carriage, stopping every step or two in order to greet those who had attended and listen to some of worries.

Royal guards flanked them and along with them, her parents followed behind.  Once Laurence was in the carriage, she let out a sigh of relief.  She turned around and began instructing the remaining staff to gather the ceremonial items and put them away.

Past the podium, Deo was talking to their younger siblings.  He’d mentioned taking them around the festival row before they left, so they’d leave a bit later.

However, Beks’ eyes landed on the couple just a few paces away from them.

Luther’s face was bright and smiling.  He laughed, his eyes crescents as a woman hung on his arm and leaned towards him.  He lifted a hand and placed it over hers as he leaned towards her and said something, making her laugh.

He motioned towards the festival along the riverwalk and the oracle tugged his arm, appearing eager to go and experience it.

Then, Luther turned his head and met Beks’ dulled, gray eyes.

His bright smile dropped at once and he seemed to freeze in place, like a child caught being naughty and unsure what to do.

It took him another moment to pull his arm out of the oracle’s before he stepped aside.  He seemed to excuse himself, giving the oracle a small, apologetic bow of his head before making his way towards Beks.  As he approached, he put on an embarrassed smile.

“Your hard work was worth it.  You did a wonderful job, Beks.  Everything went smoothly.”

She stood in place and took a deep breath.  That was the first sentence he’d spoken to her since the day before, when he came to have lunch with her and her family only to leave immediately after the meal.  She supposed he tried, though her parents and Deo hadn’t been impressed.

“Thank you, Your Highness.  After I check that the artifacts have been stored, I will return to the palace.”

His brows shot up and he drew his head back.  “Already?”  He looked past her and then around at the bustling riverwalk.  There were stalls set up, people selling all sorts of trinkets, hawkers peddling different food, and even a few street games.  It was still very early in the evening and the place was lively.  “Aren’t you going to experience the festival?  The night is still young and there is much to see and do.”

During previous Inundation Blessings, she was not allowed to come. She’d never tried street food or played arcade games.  She’d never experienced the excitement of any sort of festival.  She would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious.

But all the stress of the last few days, from preparing the site, security, and the fear that Laurence could accidentally fall into the river and drown had caught up with her.

The corners of her lips pulled into a wry, tired smile.  “In order to prepare for the ceremony, I had little sleep and had been awake since dawn.  I left the palace just after breakfast.  Since I’ve arrived, I’ve been standing and checking the venue, speaking to attendants, guards, and ceremony organizers.  I’m afraid I’m too tired to attend the festival.”

“Sister!”  A voice cut in and she looked down to see her younger brother wedge himself between them and lift up his hand, offering her some sugar-coated fried dough squares on a stick.  “Brother says you haven’t eaten all day.  I saw these and bought some for you.  Have some!”

He pushed the fried dough squares up further and her face softened.  She’d been so preoccupied, she didn’t realize she hadn’t eaten, let alone that she was hungry. Beks raised her arm and took the thin stick from her brother’s hand.

“Thank you, Thad.  I don’t need to eat much.  Do you want to share?”

“No!”  Thad beamed and looked back to where Deo was standing with Wrath, and holding two more sticks.  “I bought enough for everyone.”

“How thoughtful of you, Thad.  Thank you.  I will eat this.  You go and play with Brother and Wrath.”

“If you are tired, Sister, go back and rest.  There will be other festivals,” Thad told her with some reassurance.  She stroked his hair back with her free hand and smiled, thanking him once more before he ran back to their siblings.

Beks watched them walk away with a slight smile on her face.  As they disappeared into the crowd, her sincere smile faded and was replaced with a placid one that didn’t reach her eyes.  She looked towards Luther.  “Are you going to stay out the rest of the night?”

His hands were knotted at his sides and he shifted in place.  He looked over his shoulder several times, back towards where the oracle was waiting with two attendants standing just a few steps away.  As soon as his eyes met the oracle’s, a smile bloomed.

Luther turned back to Beks, the joy on his face clear.  “I was going to escort Oracle Elpidah as her host.”  He paused and his smile grew earnest.  “But, if you want me to go back with you, I will.”

“I want you to go back with me.”  Beks didn’t hesitate and the smile on his face froze.  There was a blankness in his eyes that made it clear that he didn’t expect her to agree.  In the past, if he offered to do something for her that wasn’t related to royal duty, she would reject him.

“No, it’s all right.  You have too much to do.” or “Perhaps next time.  I’m afraid I have some work that needs to be done.”  Other times, she would simply tell him it wasn’t necessary and to enjoy his time, while she smiled and was left behind.

As soon as Luther gathered his bearings, his mouth flopped open and he stammered.  “You...go back?”  He’d fallen into her trap that he himself had set up and Beks almost wanted to laugh at his flabbergasted expression.

“Yes.  Brother Laurence allocated me a carriage.  We’ll have guards escorting us.”  She watched him, still smiling, but with cold eyes.  He’s going to make an excuse to get out of it.

“How can I go back now?  Beks, can’t you stay a bit longer?”  He stepped back and motioned an arm towards the oracle.  “I promised to guide her through the festival as it’s her first time at the Inundation Blessing.”

There it is.  Beks’ smile had a subtle change.  From empty and cold to mocking.  She knew he didn’t mean it when he said he’d go back with her if she wanted.  “Your Highness,” she replied with undisguised derision.  “It is my first time at the Inundation Blessing, too.”

The reminder seemed to strike him, but instead of feeling guilty for forgetting, his face lit up.  “Then come with us!”

Is this man serious?  She just told him she was exhausted.

She hadn’t spoken aloud, but Luther seemed to remember and he drew his head back and grimaced.  “But, you’re tired, aren’t you?  You’ve spent days planning and haven’t eaten yet....”  His eyes drifted to the fried dough on a stick she held in one hand.  He furrowed his brows and thought for a moment.  She knew he’d come up with some sort of idea when he perked up.  He met her eyes and gave her another excited smile.  “Why don’t you rest in your carriage for a bit and when you’re up to it, join us at the festival?”

The corner of her eye almost twitched.  Rest in the carriage?  And then after, she’d have to search through the festival, which was 1,765 strides long?  Even if she sent guards to look for them, she’d still have to chase to catch up.

And then what would happen if she did?  Her gray eyes drifted over his shoulder and glanced at the oracle.  She wasn’t naive enough to believe that she wouldn’t be an unwanted party with the two of them.

Her eyes darkened as she looked back at Luther.

“Why did you ask what I wanted to do if you are going to ignore my answer?”

A wounded expression filled his face and she wanted to ask why he looked hurt when he’d ignored her until they made eye contact and flaunted his affair, despite their agreement to keep such relationships private.  Did he take her seriously at all?

Before Luther could speak, the Third Consort’s familiar voice reached them.  Both she and Luther turned towards the oracle and found that the Third Consort had come to stand beside her.  He hadn’t yelled, but it was enough to get their attention.

When Beks met his eyes, the man’s face filled with haughtiness.  His lips curled up into a smirk and he looked at her, gloating.

“What are you doing, Luther?  Oracle Elpidah is waiting.  She’s spent half the day traveling; you should take her around before she tires out.”  Even though the Third Consort was speaking to his son, his eyes were on Beks.

Luther looked back at her.  “I’m sorry, Beks.  I can’t go back with you.  Father wants me to escort the oracle.  I don’t have a choice.”  He reached for her hand to try to give her his usual apologetic squeeze, but she leaned back ever so slightly and avoided his hand.  Luther’s shoulders dropped as his eyes lowered.  “Beks-”

“Unfortunately, since your brothers are gone, I don’t, either.”  She turned away from him and walked towards the two attendants packing the ceremonial objects into a chest.  “Make sure that goes on to my carriage.  I will have it returned to the royal vaults in the morning.”

She ignored Luther’s stunned face.  From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn around, his body a bit hunched, as if he’d been beaten.  He continued to walk towards the oracle and Beks held back a sneer.

It seems their partnership only worked when he wasn’t infatuated with someone else.  Even if she didn’t love him the way Lady Eleanor loved Laurence, at the very least, Beks expected some respect from her fiancé.  They were a partnership, a team.  They had to work together, and if one party put another over the other, then how could it work?  Interests no longer aligned, and if interests no longer aligned, how could she trust him to follow through with their duties?

Beks took a bite out of the fried dough her brother gave her and watched in silence as the area around her was cleaned up, and the chest with the ceremonial objects placed into her carriage.

Her siblings told her they’d stay for another hour before returning, as Wrath was determined to win at a dart game.

“Are you all right?” Deo studied her face under the festival lanterns.  “Do we need to talk to Laurence?”

Beks shook her head.  “I expected him to become interested in someone else later, but not to the point where he’d ignore his duties.”  I expected too much from him.  That was my fault.

Deo’s brows furrowed.  “I know you want to honor the late Queen’s royal order, but I don’t think she’d approve of what her son is doing.  If the Fourth Prince is negligent and loses focus, then he is not suitable and can’t be depended on in times of crisis.  If this continues, break it.”

Beks looked down and narrowed her eyes.  “If I break it, who else can Brother Laurence and Lady Eleanor depend on?” She lifted her head and met her brother’s eyes.  “No matter what the personal cost, the kingdom must come first.”

She could see a mixture of anger and frustration cross her brother’s usually energetic, handsome face.  He clenched his jaw and touched the top of her head.  “We should’ve never let you come here.”

She drew her lips inward and grasped her brother’s wrist.  “We can only move forward.”  She lowered his arm and stepped back.  “I will return and get some rest.  Don’t let them overeat on festival food.  I was told eating it in excess isn’t good.”

Before Deo could say any more, she grasped the edge of her dress and climbed into the carriage.  Once the door was closed, she leaned against the side, closed her eyes, and let out a heavy breath.

She didn’t get any sleep on the way back.  It was a several hour-long carriage ride and rather than calm her, or let the exhaustion overtake her, Beks grew more and more frustrated at the situation.

If she weren’t part of the royal family, she would have little chance to influence the kingdom, even if she were the ‘daughter with dawn in her hair’.  While she fit the criteria of the late Great Oracle, the new oracle had claimed she was misidentified.  If she was, even if Beks was raised for the sake of the kingdom, the masses may not support her.

If Laurence continued to insist that she continue her work, there could be some conflict with nobles.  Internal conflicts destroyed countries.

Beks also wasn’t an heir to a noble position with power.  She didn’t have her own land, business, or was any sort of community leader.

Everything she had, including her duties and responsibilities, were given to her because she was considered part of the royal family.  If her foster mother wasn’t dead, she’d have a stronger position, but now that the late Queen was gone, she wasn’t seen so much as the Queen’s foster daughter, but as the Fourth Prince’s fiancée.

If the Fourth Prince didn’t appear to respect her as his fiancée, then she’d be laughed at and wouldn’t be taken seriously.

Beks may have been sheltered, forced to stay within the palace grounds her entire life, but she’d also spent much of it observing nobles.  She’d witnessed the rises and downfalls of lords and ladies of all ages, from families with varying strengths and influences.  It wasn’t unheard of for a noble to essentially be laughed out of society.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Gilded Palace.

Beks looked out the window, at the sprawling complex still glittering in the moonlight.  A footman opened the door for her and she stepped out, giving instructions on where to take the chest containing the ceremonial objects before heading towards the Old Tower.  Chamberlain Wilton intercepted her before she left the drive to report that Laurence and Lady Eleanor had arrived safely.

Beks thanked him with a relieved smile and finally let herself relax.

“Are you back?” As soon as she entered the great hall, her mother rose from her seat.  She had already changed into her sleep clothes, but wore a warm robe over it.  The Duke looked up from where he had been seated next to the Duchess, drinking some warm mead.

“You must be tired, Beks,” her father said as her mother swept over her and cupped her face.

“What’s the matter, my dear?” she asked in a gentle voice as she stroked the stray hairs on Beks’ face aside.

“I’ve just had so much to deal with these past few weeks, Mommy.  It’s as if it never stops.”  Beks closed her eyes and let her mother’s cool hands hold her.  “You didn’t have to wait for me.  Get some sleep.  Brother Deo will be arriving in an hour or two.  Wrath wanted to win a prize.”

The Duke let out an exasperated sigh.  “Your sister is quite competitive.  We worry she’ll hurt herself.”

“The mentors for her spirit core are always warning us that she’ll push herself too far.  She’s only six; she has time to learn, but she’s impatient,” the Duchess complained with some amusement.  She stroked her daughter’s hair once more.  “Since Deo is with your brother and sister, we can retire for the night.”

“You should, as well,” her father said.

Beks gave them a nod and smiled, but stood in place as she watched them take final sips from their cup before walking to the spiral staircase across from them.  Once they disappeared into the stairwell, Beks let out a tired sigh and ran a hand down her face.

She drew her lips inward and bit them.

She turned around and climbed down the opposite spiral staircase and back outside.

Behind the Old Tower was an old courtyard covered with hard packed gravel.  At one point, it was where guards and princes practiced martial arts, both empty handed and with weapons, but now it was bordered with flower beds and had a stone birdbath in one corner.

Still, the flat, empty area in the center of the rectangle remained.  At the main walkway leading into the courtyard were two wooden benches on either side.  The seats could be lifted, as the space beneath held some rough pillows and parasols in one, and wooden swords, bucklers, and daggers in the other.

Beks lifted the flat seat of one of the benches and took out a wooden training sword.

When she was little, Uncle Timur had made a simple, wooden training sword fitting her size.  Unlike the curved sword he showed her that he used during his time in war, it was a straight sword.  He had her learn a series of basic movements as a form of exercise and bonding.  The style she learned was from eastern Langshe: quick and focused on offense with a lot of fluid angles and circular movements.

The Second and Third Prince would often watch when she practiced to encourage her.

After Uncle Timur died, Lady Eleanor found a weapons instructor for her, but the styles were a bit different.  To this day, Beks’ appeared unorthodox when wielding any sort of weapon.

She walked to the center of the garden to begin fighting an imaginary opponent and didn’t hear the approach of another person.

“Something is bothering you.” Beks whirled around and shifted into a defensive stance before she could stop herself.  Lady Eleanor had shed layers of ceremonial garbs and was now in a simple dress that didn’t hinder her movement.  “Shall I join you?”

Beks felt a bit warm at her question and nodded.  “You’re not tired?”

“How can I be as tired as you?”  Lady Eleanor chuckled as she walked to one of the benches and lifted the lid.  She paused and stared down at the pillows and parasols.  “Wrong bench.”

Beks cracked a small smile and waited for Lady Eleanor to get a sword.  A marquis’ daughter who trained regularly was much better than her, but Lady Eleanor wouldn’t do much attacking.  She’d come to help Beks release her frustrations.

“En guard?” Beks asked as she took a few steps back to give them distance.

Lady Eleanor chose a two-handed sword and stood in a defensive position.  “Whenever you’re ready.”

Beks stepped forward and began almost hacking away at Lady Eleanor’s sword without much thought.  The two circled around the old courtyard with Lady Eleanor easily blocking each of Beks’ hits.  Every so often, she’d parry just to liven things up.

Dust was kicked up from the gravel every time they parted, tousled, and then opened distance again.

Beks’ heart slammed against her chest and she stepped back further than usual to even her breathing and calm herself.

Lady Eleanor lowered her guard, not at all out of breath.  Her face softened.  “Laurence wants to end the engagement between you and Luther.”

Beks looked up at once, her eyes wide as her arms fell at her side.  “What?” She almost thought she had misheard.  She narrowed her eyes.  “But Brother has always been determined to continue with his mother’s wishes, not to mention a royal order.”

Lady Eleanor nodded.  “Yes, but Laurence doesn’t think Luther is worthy of you.  Neither do I.”

It was one thing to think about it, but to act upon it had consequences.  Beks’ shoulders fell.  “Is it because of his relationship with the new oracle?”

Lady Eleanor released a low breath.  She placed the tip of the wooden sword on the toe of her shoe as she rested her arms on the hilt.  “Laurence has been disappointed with Luther for some time.  He has no major accomplishments nor does he carry his weight as a royal son.  You have done more for Luther’s position than Luther himself.  Once in a while is fine.  Expected.  But all the time?  It would be a punishment to marry you to the least promising of the princes.”

Beks wasn’t sure what to say and felt hollow.  She squinted her eyes and looked at Lady Eleanor.  “Then, if I don’t marry Luther, where does that place me?”  She worked so hard and did everything they told her.  She’d done so much: the studying, the reports, the plans, budgets, and organization.  Was she being abandoned?  What were the last twenty years of effort for?

Her confusion and fear must’ve been on her face as Lady Eleanor walked towards her and put an arm around her.

“Once Laz comes home, Laurence will continue to honor his mother’s order by marrying you into the royal family, but will change the groom.”

Unexpected relief filled her, but before Beks could nod, she remembered something else.  “Marriage agreements require both individual parties involved to consent.”

When she received a childhood engagement, her parents and the late Queen consented to it on behalf of their children.  As adults, if one party desperately wanted to renege the engagement, they could claim they did not personally consent, so the engagement is void.  There was no legal way to force a marriage, but amongst nobility who used marriages for political, social, and financial gain, there were other, more subtle, ways to force it.

In the case of a royal order, it would require a monarch’s approval for any change.

Beks was willing to change grooms.  It didn’t matter who she married as long as the last twenty years of fierce education and training weren’t in vain, but would the Second Prince, the more temperamental of the twins, be willing?

“Are you willing?” Lady Eleanor asked.

Beks looked blankly at the ground.  “Yes, but....”

“Laurence will talk to Laz.  If he refuses or if you and he are not compatible, then there is still Cian.”

Beks jerked her head back.  “The Third Prince is a priest.”

“His order marries.  Laurence made sure of that when Cian was sent off.” Lady Eleanor assured her.  She lifted her hand and stroked back Beks’ sweat-damped hair.  “If neither work, then we find another way to keep you in an advisory role.  We want you in the royal family, but if fate deems it impossible, then keeping you in an advisory role, while being more restrictive, is better than losing you.”

It was the best they could do and Beks knew it.  She nodded and looked at Lady Eleanor with a hopeful smile.  “Then, I hope we find the twins.”

Lady Eleanor smiled and gently pressed her forehead against Beks’.  “I do, too.”  She pulled away and patted Beks’ shoulder.  “Do you feel better?”

“I do.  Thank you.”

“All right.  Go and rest.  You deserve it.”  Lady Eleanor gave her a lopsided smile and took the sword from Beks’ hand.  She turned around and walked back to the bench to return them.

“I don’t want to trouble Brother Laurence, but I am grateful for his consideration,” Beks said as she trudged forward.  “I know that the Fourth Prince can be irresponsible and naive, but I didn’t think he’d be so foolish.  He isn’t a terrible person, he’s just....”  She didn’t know how to describe it without being insulting.

Lady Eleanor looked over her shoulder and raised a brow as she tossed the wooden swords into storage.  “Don’t defend him.  He is a grown man and a prince.  By now, he should know what he should and shouldn’t do.”

As they were speaking about her current fiancé, Beks couldn’t help but feel as if she were being chastised, as well.  Perhaps she could’ve done more to help him improve himself.

“I know.”

Lady Eleanor looped her arm in hers and half dragged Beks back to the Old Tower.  At the foot of the steps, the older woman urged her up.

Halfway up, Beks turned around and looked down.  “Are you returning to the city?  It’s dark now.”

Lady Eleanor smirked.  “This late?  You should know better.  It’s far too dark and dangerous for a beautiful woman to wander around at night.”

Beks rolled her eyes.  She knew what that meant.  “Tell Brother Laurence thank you for me.”

Lady Eleanor grinned and headed towards the Gilded Palace.  Beks sighed and continued to trudge up the steps.

It was a miracle she didn’t have a niece or nephew yet.

╔═════════════════ ∘◦ ♔ ◦∘ ═════════════════╗

The knocking seemed to grow louder and she opened her eyes.  Through the part between the heavy drapes around her bed, she could make out the dying embers from the hearth.

“My lady!  My lady!”

Beks pushed herself up, rolling on to her side from where she had fallen over as soon as she’d reached her bed.  Her eyes narrowed, she felt as if she’d just closed her eyes; when did she fall asleep?

The knocking grew more and more urgent as the maid’s voice became desperate.

“I’m awake!” Beks scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up.  Her shoes were still on.  How tired was she?  She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair as she made her way across the room to the door.  “What is it? It’s late-”

She pulled the door open and a red-faced maid looked up at her in panic without jumping back.  “My lady, there is an emergency in the Gilded Palace!”

The sleepiness vanished.  Beks didn’t bother reaching for outerwear as she rushed past the maid and to the stairs.

“Beks, what’s wrong?” The Duke and Duchess emerged from another stairwell and into the great hall as she arrived.  Both were still wearing their sleep clothes beneath their robes.  Their hair was unkempt and it was clear they’d been sleeping.

“I don’t know-”

“No, stay here.”  Deo entered the Great Hall after their parents and pointed up at the spiral staircase.  “You two go to bed.”

“But-” Beks heard Thad try to argue, but a stern look from Deo shut him up.

“Nanny Taak, please watch the children!” The Duchess said as she peered into the stairwell.  “We’ll be back soon.”

Beks didn’t wait to make sure her younger brother and sister stayed behind.  She scrambled down the stairs to the lower level to get to the exit.  Her father followed behind her.

“Do you know what’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t,” Beks said as she lifted her hand and clutched the small canister hanging from her neck.  Her heart was beating quickly as a feeling of dread filled her.

She wouldn’t have been woken up in the middle of the night if something weren’t wrong.

The royal guards held the door open for her and her family as they raced across the yard to get to the Gilded Palace.  Chamberlain Wilton was pale and running down the hall towards her.

“My lady, it’s His Majesty-”

“Where is he?” Her voice was raised as fear flooded her senses.

“He is in his bed chambers-”

Beks immediately turned to the north entrance, which led to the wing of the palace that was Laurence’s villa.  Through the glass on either side of the hall, she could see the torches around the entrance.  The individual villas in the Gilded Palace were the only single-story buildings within the palace, as the amount of space each individual villa and ground took was a symbol of wealth and excess.

Her body moved without her thinking and she raced through the spacious garden courtyard, through the foyer, and turned to go down one of the halls, where there were a set of large double doors.

Her heart sank as the double doors were open and yelling was coming from inside.

“Your Majesty!”  Her father sped up, passing her to enter the room.

Beks came up behind him, but her eyes didn’t go to the bed, where Lady Eleanor was hunched over, hysterical.

Across the room, beside a large, five panel silk changing screen that had been knocked to the ground, was another set of double doors.  Puddles of water trailed from the main room through the double doors and glistened in the firelight.

For a moment, Beks couldn’t hear anything.  Her eyes followed the trail of water, through the double doors, and to the luxurious sunken pool within the adjoining bathroom.

The main bedchambers of the villas were connected to large rooms with sunken pools heated by a system of pipes underneath the building.  Water was pumped in by those pipes and the pool itself was not small.  Unlike the wooden tub she had at the Old Tower, the pools were surrounded by pale tiles, had gilded accents, and were enough for ten people to sit across in.  .

Beks’ legs began to shake.

How could she forget the most obvious body of water closest to them?

“How long was he in the water?” The Duchess stood by the bed and placed her hands over Laurence’s bare chest.

Lady Eleanor was sobbing and shook her head.  “I don’t know!  When I arrived, he had already slid into the bath.”

“Do you know how long he might’ve been in the bathroom?” the Duchess asked as her eyes narrowed over Laurence’s pale skin.

“He said he’d bathe first and I heard Beks had arrived, so I went out to talk to her for a bit.  It wasn’t long and he shouldn’t have been in the pool for that long either.  It takes some time for the water to heat and Laurence doesn’t like bathing in cool water.”

“He’s still breathing,” the Duchess said, bringing her hand to his mouth.  “There is still some water in his lungs.”  Her hands moved along his chest and then up, over his throat.  She tilted his head to the side and a cough came as water was spat out of his mouth.

“Laurence!”  Lady Eleanor cried out and she reached for him.

The Duchess held her back and gave her a disappointed shake of her head.  “He’s not awake, Eleanor.  The cough is just a reaction.”

The other woman was on her knees, grabbing on to the side of the bed with a red face.  Her clothes had large, dark spots where she’d gotten wet from handling his body.  “What happened to him?  I was able to revive him, but he’s not answering!”

The Duchess looked at her pitifully and grit her teeth.  “There are cases where if someone has been in the water for too long, and isn’t revived fast enough, there could be damage done to their body, resulting in a prolonged sleep.”

“Prolonged sleep?”  Lady Eleanor’s voice shot up.

The Duke stood behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders.  “Syb, have you seen this before?”

The Duchess appeared distressed, but nodded.  Her voice was solemn.  “I’ve seen many things in the West Islands.”

“Then what do we do?” Lady Eleanor choked out.  “Will he wake up?  When will he wake up?”

“I don’t know-”

“Where is the doctor?” Lady Eleanor had long lost her usual casual, stately demeanor.  She looked towards the door.  “Is he here yet?  Where is he?”

“He’s coming right now, my lady!” one of the servants replied, just as frantic.

“Where-”

“I’m here, my lady!  Let me see him!”  The gray-haired old man rushed into the room carrying a heavy black bag.  The royal family had a resident doctor.  In fact, there were several.  One was assigned specifically to see Beks due to her health condition.  Having them on site made it convenient and could increase chances of survival.

The Duchess gently pulled Lady Eleanor away from the bed in order to give the doctor room.  Two more arrived shortly after him, and as they inspected Laurence, they found that he was breathing and that his heart was steady, but he was not responding.

“He may have lacked air....” they said amongst themselves.

Lady Eleanor shook her head, appearing unable to understand.  “But he’s breathing now!”

“My lady, there may have been too long of a gap between breaths,” the first doctor told her with a pained expression.  “Patients in such cases can be in a coma-”

“A coma?”

Lady Eleanor’s scream filled the room.

And Beks watched it all from the wall beside the entrance, her breathing shallow as her chest tightened with every word.

Brother Laurence is in a coma?  Her breathing grew worse as the tightness in her chest turned into heat.  No, no, he was fine.  Brother Laurence could swim and the pool was shallow.  Her upper body began to burn and her breathing became short, harsh pants.

“Beks?”  She heard her name calling as she began to claw her chest. “Beks!”

She fell back against the wall, her legs trembling beneath her as she tried to push up to keep herself from sliding down as her hands tugged at the chord around her neck.  Her fingers brushed against the warm metal and she looked down.

Shaking, thin fingers began to fumble with the canister on her chest.  Her face was twitching as sweat slid down the sides of her head.  Her fingers were too slippery and she couldn’t twist it open.

“Beks, let me-”

Before someone could take the canister, she’d managed to open it and dropped a small pill the size of two pieces of barley onto her palm.  She slapped her hand over her mouth, tilted her head back, and swallowed.

The pills acted fast, but not fast enough.

Tears rimmed her eyes as she dug her fingers into her arm to try to keep herself from trying to tear off her clothes as her body heated up.  The intense heat came from within her body, but at the same time, her skin felt as if it were being roasted and about to blister.  She leaned heavily against the wall, shaking her head and batting away anyone who tried to help her.

“No...no don’t touch....it’s fine.  It’ll pass.”  She wheezed out the last few words between gritted teeth and tightly shut eyes.  She knew her skin had flushed red.  It always did and it was abnormally hot to the touch.

She tried to count to both distract herself and pace her breathing, but every breath burned, if she could breathe at all.  It had been some time since she’d had such an attack that she’d forgotten how painful it could get.  The crushing tightness, the suffocation, and the torture of feeling as if she’d explode from within couldn’t be described in words.

She slid down against the wall, shaking and wheezing as squeezed her eyes closed, trying to ignore the pain.

She had to think about Lady Eleanor. She’d need support.  Beks had to focus and calm herself.  If Laurence was in a coma, then he could still wake up.  Vaguely, she overheard the doctor say a few hours to a few days, but he had trailed off.  A choked cry left her.

There was a chance Laurence wouldn’t wake up at all.

The thought of losing another brother, the one who loved her the most there, where she’d been living apart from her blood relatives for twenty years of her life, brought about another wave of anguish.  She grit her teeth, trying to hold back her cries.

Crying would only alarm her family.  Crying would upset Lady Eleanor.

But Beks couldn’t lose her biggest supporter in the palace.  Who would she go to for help?  Who would she support to improve the kingdom?  They still had so much to do.

Laurence and Lady Eleanor hadn’t given her a niece or nephew yet.  Beks had plans to spoil them: take them out to ride horses, buy them sweets, and read stories to them like Laurence had done for her.  She hadn’t paid him back yet for being family when she needed it most.

The burning sensation began to fade and while her chest was still constricted and her breathing uneven, she felt the familiar chill sweep through her body as her temperature dropped and the sweat cooled against her flushed skin.  The medicine was taking effect.

“Beks, take a seat.”  Deo hovered beside her, his hands extended, but didn’t touch her.  He seemed to be awaiting her permission.

Beks shuddered and swallowed hard.  She wanted to stand, but her legs were still soft.  All she could do was let her brother put his arm beneath hers and pull her to her feet. Her head spun and she shut her eyes, refusing to take a step further until the nausea subsided.

“Then, when will he wake up?”

She lifted her head and squinted.  When did the Third Consort arrive?

“We do not know when he’ll wake up.”  The Duchess rose from where she sat at the edge of the bed, trying to comfort Lady Eleanor.  Her eyes narrowed as she stood up straight, almost shielding Laurence’s unconscious body from the Third Consort’s view.

“Why wasn’t anyone watching him?  Didn’t the oracle tell us that it was dangerous for him to be around water?” The Third Consort scowled and glared at Lady Eleanor.  “And you?  What are you doing here?”

“He is my fiancé.” Lady Eleanor hissed her reply as she looked up from the bed.  “Why can’t I be here?”

“You’re not a member of the royal family yet, Lady von Glasser,” the Third Consort retorted.  He turned towards Beks and sneered.  “For that matter, neither are you.  None of you should be here!”

“His Majesty had given us permission to enter the Gilded Palace and we were notified to come when there was an emergency,” the Duke said as he stood beside his wife.  Both of them were taller than the Third Consort and were glowering, as if walls keeping the Third Consort at bay.

“Your Highness, I sent the servants to notify Lady Rebecca as soon as Lady Eleanor informed us that His Majesty was unconscious.” Chamberlain Wilton frowned and rooted himself near the foot of the bed.  “Lady Rebecca is the King’s foster sister.”

The Third Consort scoffed.  “There is no reason for her family to have come to-”

“I asked for them to come!” Lady Eleanor snapped from Laurence’s bedside.  “Both Duke Caroline and Lord Amadeo have combat experience and are versed in first aid.  Duchess Caroline was a sailor and is familiar with water-related accidents.  Why can’t I call for experienced people to come?”

The Third Consort’s irritated face seemed to harden.  “And did they help?  It doesn’t look like it.”

The first doctor stepped forward to try to quell the tension.  “Your Highness, His Majesty has a water-related injury and may wake up-”

“When?”  The Third Consort cut off the doctor and lifted his chin.

The doctor faltered and drew his head back, hesitant to answer.  “We can’t be sure-”

“Can’t be sure?  What do you mean you can’t be sure?  You’re the best doctors in Kadmus!” The Third Consort threw his arms in the air.  “Chamberlain Wilton, call for the doctors at the Royal Hospital.  Assign someone to remain at His Majesty’s bedside.  Someone trusted!”  His narrowed eyes swept over the others in the room.  “His Majesty can’t be left alone.”

Chamberlain Wilton looked to Lady Eleanor, who gave a small nod.  “Summon additional doctors and schedule a rotation to watch over him,” she said in a quiet, trembling voice.

Beks leaned against her brother, shutting her eyes once again as her head pounded.  This was new.  She didn’t have such a skull crushing throbbing after previous attacks.  She lifted one hand and pressed between her brows.

“If the King is in a coma and it is unknown when he’ll wake, then someone will need to take charge,” the Third Consort said in a low voice.

Beks twitched and made small, rapid shakes of her head.  Laurence’s coma could only be hidden for a few days at most.  If he were in a coma for longer, they couldn’t stop everything and wait.

“You’re not telling us that you’ll take over, are you?” She heard her father’s voice ask with disgust.  “You are a consort with no experience.”  Beks could almost hear the unsaid words: we will not follow you.

“My son, Prince Luther, will govern on behalf of his brother until the King wakes!”

“Are you insane?” Lady Eleanor yelled.  “Laurence is asleep, not dead!  It is not yet Luther’s turn!”

The Third Consort laughed.  “Who else is not only more fit, but has the position to, other than Luther?  You’re not Queen yet, Lady von Glasser.”

Lady Eleanor did not yield.  “The Fourth Prince has not been given authority.”

“He is the heir to the throne!  What other authority does he need?  Who else is more fitting?  Her?  She can’t even stand!”

Beks lifted her head, ignoring the dulling throb as she opened her eyes and looked at the ring encrusted finger pointing at her face.

Hundreds of thoughts flooded her: how could Laurence suddenly drown in his bathing pool? He was tired, but not exhausted.  The tiles had grooves; it wasn’t easy to slip.  Had he eaten anything?  Drunk something?

What was the Third Consort doing here?  Hadn’t he been at the festival?  Who notified him? He was still wearing the clothes she’d seen him in that day.

Her breath shook as she narrowed her eyes.  She couldn’t rid herself of her suspicion.

Until she was certain that the Third Consort had nothing to do with Laurence’s accident, she would not let him or his son take control.  Even if his son was her fiancé.

Her hand gripped Deo’s arm as she forced herself to stand and meet the Third Consort’s disdainful eyes.

“Royal Procedures Book Two, Section Two: Disasters and Emergency, Sub-Section One: In the event a monarch is temporarily indisposed, his selected High Counsellors will oversee government procedures until the monarch is able to regain control,” Beks said as she replied to his scornful look with a defiant smile.  “While His Majesty is breathing, and without his consent, rule will not be handed over to the heir.”

“Rebecca of Caroline, you dare usurp Luther’s position?” The man’s accusing voice filled the room.  “Need I remind you, Lady Rebecca, that you are not a member of the royal family.”  His contemptuous gaze bore into her.  “You are only my son’s fiancé and if he chooses to break it-”

“He will need the King’s permission to do so,” Beks cut him off.  “Don’t forget, Third Consort.  Our engagement is a royal order.”

His face flushed.  “You-”

“All seven High Counsellors have yet to be fully assigned.  Only two have been selected and given their oaths.  Two,” Beks said as she lifted her hand and held up two fingers.  Her eyes crinkled up into self-satisfied crescents.  “Marquis von Glasser,” she wheezed.  “And me.”

Lady Eleanor’s eyes widened and the Third Consort’s face filled with indignation.  The official announcement had yet to be made and Laurence was still filling the positions, so Beks had been instructed not to tell anyone.  She hoped Laurence could forgive her for speaking out.

“You...you were sworn in?” The Third Consort almost choked.  He shook his head.  “No...no he hasn’t announced-”

“It stands that while there are only two, the High Counsellors will work together to follow the King’s will until he wakes,” Beks said.  “I will abide by royal procedures.”

The Third Consort shook his head.  “Luther should be a High Counsellor!  He is the heir!  Heirs are always High Counsellors!  Laurence was one of Leti’s!”

“That is something you should bring up with His Majesty when he wakes,” the Duke said in a low voice.  He put his fist to his chest and bowed his head towards his daughter.  “We of the Noble House of Caroline will abide by royal procedures and respect the rule of the High Counsellors until His Majesty wakes.”

The Third Consort took a step back, as if pushed.  He looked at Lady Eleanor, Chamberlain Wilton, and the doctors present, all who bowed their heads in Beks’ direction.  He shook his head.

“High Counsellors can only rule in the case of temporary indisposition,” he said as he turned towards her.  “We don’t know how long he’ll be in a coma.  What happens if he doesn’t wake?”

Beks’ cold eyes bore into him as her hand clenched at her side.  “Third Consort.”  Her voice was low and carried a warning.  “It is best you pray that he does.”