The Wicked House of Caroline: Chapter 2 - He Wouldn't Allow Himself to Die so Easily

It was something they had been preparing for, as it was obvious a few weeks earlier that the Queen would not recover from her illness.  Despite all her attempts to brainwash herself, and the Queen, into believing that she would indeed recover, Beks knew that foster mother would die.

Every day, the Queen wasted away little by little.  First, she shortened her work hours.  Then she moved her work to her bed chambers, working from her gilded writing desk for as long as she could.  When simply moving across the room became too much, she worked from her bed.

When she could no longer work at all, all the responsibility of governance was put on Laurence.  He’d prepared his entire life to do so, but the weight of his dying mother was still a shadow over him, wearing him down.  Even Laurence and Lady Eleanor’s wedding was postponed.

Beks took over the preparations for the inevitable death at the same time she dove into the work she’d been assigned, as well as took on more minor responsibilities from Laurence.  Lady Eleanor assisted Beks with the preparations as Laurence’s fiancée, but was worried about both of them overworking themselves.

“You two work as if you know nothing else,” she had said as she brought dinner one evening to Beks, who was holed up in her office reviewing budget allocation requests.  “Born of different parents, but exactly the same.”

“Not true,” Beks had replied in an effort to ease Lady Eleanor’s concern.  “I’m much cuter.  Her Majesty says so.”

No such jokes had left her after the Queen passed.  Not that there was nowhere to say them; laughter could be a form of grieving, after all, but Beks simply did not want to speak much outside of what was necessary.

She didn’t feel much of anything if she stopped to think about it.  Everything she did, she did with mindless efficiency.

Even during the daily prayers over the Queen’s body, Beks was numb going through the motions as her mind drifted elsewhere to what needed to be and should’ve been done.

She knelt on the pews, a sheer white lace shawl draped over her head and held into place by the twisted nectria metal pins she usually used to keep her hair in a bun.  White was the usual color of death in Kadmus.  In the castle’s newly renovated temple, the vaulted ceilings were draped with white with the lion head seal of Queen Letizia in Kadmus’ royal color of orange.

It had been a week that the Queen had been sealed after the customary lying in state for two days, but her younger three sons had yet to arrive.

Laurence had sent them each messenger when their mother was deathly ill about a month prior to the Queen’s death in order to summon them back.  He had hoped that they would return before their mother passed, but it was not to be.  Beks could see the barely concealed frustration in his eyes when one of the courtiers brought up the other princes.

Lazarus was in the northeast leading his battalions on a patrol around the regained territory.  He was constantly moving, so there was a chance of delay that the message would get to him.  Urapearls were rare and fixed to a building; he’d need to be relayed a message from the nearest fort.

Lucian was on a pilgrimage and was the furthest from the capital.  They knew it would take some time to get to him and there was a chance he’d be forced to finish his pilgrimage first before returning, as simply getting to the sacred site would be a long and daunting journey.  He was the most difficult to contact.

Luther had gone with his father, the Third Consort, to the Great Temple to pray for the Queen’s health.  It was two to three weeks to travel there, and by now, they should be on their way back.  Yet, they haven't sent any message confirming their return.  This is what frustrated Laurence the most.

Beks couldn’t say that she was surprised.  The Third Consort was a proud man who felt he was above others because the Queen’s heart was his.  It was no secret that the Fourth Prince was his favorite son.  He was raised in a much more relaxed environment than his brothers.  His education was strict, but not nearly as strict as Laurence’s or even hers.

Unlike the twins, he was not sent away to military school or a temple.

The Fourth Prince lived the life of a wealthy young lord in the capital, dabbling in various businesses with his father and socializing.

That wasn’t to say that he was a terrible person.  Beks got along well with him; they were in a sort of business arrangement and treated each other accordingly.  Luther would often come to her with business inquiries and ask her to review the legality of contracts, so he had a certain degree of trust in her.

In addition, she didn’t know of any relations he had with women or men that were inappropriate.  Either he didn’t have any or made a point to keep it so hidden, that even his mother and brother’s men were unable to find out.

She and Luther had agreed when they were teenagers that as long as the other did not make an illicit relationship public and did not recognize any illegitimate children, their political marriage would remain as such.  This went for both of them and their clear discussions and boundaries on the matter made them get along better, as if knowing where each other stood and what lines not to cross.

Luther was very good about celebrating her birthdays, holidays, and sending her gifts.  She acted well on his behalf, represented him at events, and bolstered support for his family.  He never had any problem with how close she was to Laurence, but did sometimes tease her saying that ‘he loves his foster sister more than his blood related brother’.

It was because she was around Laurence more often and he personally guided her.  He was the first of the princes to reach out to her when she arrived.  He and Uncle Timur gave her what she’d considered a happy childhood with toys and activities.  The twins were more rambunctious and seemed afraid of hurting her, who was half their size and sickly, so there wasn’t much time spent playing with them before they left.

Luther’s childhood had been very sheltered, and unlike the other brothers, he stayed with the Third Consort and was raised solely by him and the Queen, in as much a capacity as the Queen could with her position and responsibilities.  Luther didn’t interact with his brothers as much as she did.

Beks theorized that this was because despite the Third Consort’s pride, it must’ve still wounded him to know that he was only the Queen’s third husband.  He hadn’t even been chosen as a spouse of choice for her second, and likely harbored some resentment against Uncle Timur and Lazarus and Lucian because of this.

The Third Consort being the Queen’s most loved husband should’ve made him present, yet he and his son were still away and hadn’t notified the castle of their return.

Is he doing this to insult Brother Laurence?  Beks stared blankly ahead of her at the Queen’s elegant marble sarcophagus that was carved with reliefs from her glory days as a ruler.  Three panels on each long side and one panel on each end depicted her glorious childhood, her political prowess, regaining lost territories, examples of her benevolent ruling, and how the gods blessed her.

And on the panel above her head, a relief carving of her holding a baby girl surrounded by a halo.

Beks knew it was her.  The baby girl’s clothing had a pattern that was reserved for royal princesses and she was the only one who wore it.  It was as if the Queen were proclaiming to have found a gift for the kingdom and was presenting it to them.  What was more, it was the Queen who prepared her sarcophagus in advance, as was tradition.

To Beks’ relief, no one said anything about the carving, but the weight of expectations on her shoulders did grow heavier.

She heard noises coming from outside the temple behind her and raised her head.  They were the familiar steps of royal guards marching together.  Royal guards not only guarded the castle and its grounds, but also escorted royal family members both within the castle and when they were outside.

Laurence wasn’t scheduled to arrive yet.  He had afternoon meetings and then was supposed to join her and Lady Eleanor for prayer over the Queen before dinner.

“Leti!”  A pained cry came from the entrance and Beks turned her head.  A choked sob and frantic footsteps echoed in the stone brick and tile room.  Through the hazy incense smoke, the figure of a middle-aged man appeared.

Average in height with long, wavy blond hair that was tied at his nape and went down to his waist, was the Third Consort dressed in loose, white mourning garb.  As far as Beks knew, they did not have mourning garb with them when they left to pray for the Queen’s health.  Did they stop to dress first?

The Third Consort threw himself over the Queen’s sarcophagus, tears on his red face as his eyes were shut tight.  He called out her the Queen’s nickname, which only he used, and stroked the pale, streaked marble as if he were caressing the Queen’s face.

Beks stared at him with cold eyes.  Where was he when the Queen was dying?  Praying at the temple?  Was it necessary to pray?  The doctors and healing clerics already told them to expect the worst in the Queen’s health.  Why did the Third Consort insist to do such a showy action of making a ‘pilgrimage’ to the Great Temple to pray for his dying wife’s health?

She took a deep breath and pushed down any anger and resentment.  Most of her anger was fueled by pain.  After all, it wasn’t as if the Third Consort wanted the great love of his life to die.  The gods knew how often the man tried to pretend their own family of three was all that existed.  Even knowing that Beks was one day going to be his daughter-in-law, there were times when he’d forget she was there.

“Mother....”  A strained voice came from the aisle that the Third Consort had just run down.  Beks turned her head and saw her fiancé taking slow, heavy steps towards the center prayer circle in the heart of the building.  His face was pale and his brown eyes were glistening, staring at the stone sarcophagus laid inside the prayer circle and surrounded by orange and white flowers.

Beks bowed her head against the pew and stood up.  Her white mourning robes draped over her pale, unembellished dress.  Clothing for deaths should not be ostentatious, lest ornate designs celebrating life and vibrancy mock the dead.  Her hair was down and even her shoes were plain leather boots.

“My deepest sympathies for your loss.”  She placed her hand on Luther’s shoulder and he turned his head towards her.  He looked wounded, rightly appearing as if he’d lost something of great value to him.  His eyes crinkled up.

“Beks!”  He grabbed on to her and buried his face in her shoulder as he cried.  She closed her eyes and raised her arms to wrap around his back, patting him gently.

Of all the princes, Luther was the one who saw the Queen as his mother first, and a ruler second.  He’d spent the most time with her and received the most of any maternal love she had.

His shoulders heaved up and down as Beks stroked his back to try to calm him.

“Luther!  Come and see your mother.”  The Third Consort’s trembling voice called for him and she felt Luther tense against her.  She stroked his back once more and stepped to the side. She took his arm and moved beside him to lead him forward in order to support him.

Luther looked at the pale stone that had a visage of his mother’s peaceful sleeping face carved on the cover.  It wasn’t the gaunt face just before death, but the fleshy healthy one from years earlier.  Luther’s eyes squinted and he reached out with one hand to touch the cold stone.

“Did she suffer?” he asked in a tight voice.

“Only as much as the illness caused her.  We tried to make her as comfortable as possible during her last days,” Beks replied in a quiet voice. She tried to sound as gentle as possible instead of her usual firm, authoritative voice that she’d been groomed to use.  “I held her hand and she closed her eyes.  She took one more breath and then rested eternally.”

Luther shut his eyes, his hand on hers tight as he nodded.  “Thank you for being there for her.”

She shook her head once.  “It was an honor to be by her side.”

His red, puffed eyes looked towards her.  “Did she have any words before she passed?”

“Just that she loved you all.”

He shut his eyes and moved closer to her.  “I should’ve been there.”  She wanted to agree.  She wanted to say that he should have been there, but it wasn’t her place.

“Did the doctors or clerics find out what caused her death?” the Third Consort asked.

“A terminal illness that eats away at a person’s body, weakening it severely and making the body unable to function correctly.  It is rare, but there are no known cures, unfortunately,” Beks replied in a calm, respectful voice.

The Third Consort continued to stand beside the sarcophagus, his arms draped across as if holding the Queen against him.  He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the stone.

“Why did you have to go before I returned?” he rasped as he pressed his cheek against the Queen’s carved stone face.  “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Father....”  Luther stepped forward to comfort his father and moved away from Beks despite his own shaking voice and broken expression.

The Third Consort’s fingers curled and pressed against the stone.  His eyes opened and narrowed.  “I want to see her.”  His voice cracked as he spoke.

Beks tilted her head to the side.  “Pardon, Your Highness?”

“I want to see her!” The Third Consort’s head shot up and he gave her a demanding look.  “Open the sarcophagus!”

Beks’ eyes widened and the corners of her lips tugged down ever so slightly.  The Queen had already been anointed, wrapped in the customary linens painted with holy sigils and prayers, and placed inside the sarcophagus with the usual dried flowers, perfumes, powders, and jewelry.  Once sealed inside, the sarcophagus was not meant to be opened again.

“Your Highness, that is not possible.  The Queen has already started her eternal rest-”

“I want to see her!  Don’t you dare stop me, Rebecca of Caroline!”  Anger filled his face as he glared at her.  Luther moved his arm over his father to keep him from lunging forward and possibly hitting Beks.

“Father, mother is already sealed.  We should not open the sarcophagus,” Luther said in a pained voice.

Beks looked towards the enclaves to the side and gave a nod to the two priests who watched over the body and moved forward to try to calm the Third Consort.  Widowed spouses becoming overly emotional and demanding absurd things during death practices was common.

She’d heard of people who threw themselves into graves, climbed on top of the bodies, and clawed at the tomb in the heat of heartbreak and grieving.

“Your Highness, it is not acceptable to open the sarcophagus now that Queen Letizia has been sealed,” one of the priests told the Third Consort in a placating voice.  “You must let her rest.  Unsealing the sarcophagus will disrupt her soul and anger her.”

“Don’t tell me what my Leti will be angry about!  She was my wife!  Mine!  I knew her better than anyone!” The Third Consort pulled against Luther, who couldn’t hold him back.  His father stumbled forward and leaned against the sarcophagus.  A dull thud echoed through the vaulted room as the man tried to push the heavy stone lid to the side.

“Your Highness, please....” Beks internally cringed.  If the Third Consort were someone else, she could signal for the royal guards on duty to pry him away and restrain him until he calmed, but he was the Third Consort and, no matter how much the Queen valued her, she was just a foster daughter.

“Don’t you dare stop me, Rebecca!  She is my wife!  You have no place to stop me from seeing her!”  The frantic man pushed and shoved, but the heavy stone lid did not move.  It was a futile attempt, but telling him so was in itself futile.

Luther, still consumed with his own grief, looked at a loss at his father’s temporary madness.

“She may have no place to stop you, but I do.”  A deep, firm voice came from the entrance of the temple and at once, the royal guards saluted the newcomer.

The priests knelt down, their hands touching the ground as the heavy footsteps of the soon-to-be king entered.

Luther bowed his head, and Beks stepped back and bowed her head as well and kept it down.

Laurence had white mourning robes over his usual clothes.  His eyes had slight shadows around them and were a bit swollen.  Still, he kept an upright demeanor and a stern, authoritative look on his face.

The Third Consort’s reddened eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw.  “I must see her!  You can’t keep her from me!”

“Third Consort, we are not keeping her from you.  Mother has already been sealed.  It is sacrilegious to force her sarcophagus open,” Laurence told them.  It wasn’t as if this were an obscure custom.  It was the case all through Kadmus.  If the dead willed, their bodies could lay in state for up to two days, but afterwards, they needed to be sealed, or else it was believed that the gateway to the underworld would close before their soul could depart.

It was considered pulling their souls back from the underworld, tainting the soul and ruining their chances for a rebirth if they were unsealed.

“I want to see Leti!”

Laurence stood firm.  “Impossible-”

“Are you hiding something from me?” The Third Consort’s gaze was burning into the Crown Prince and Beks noticed the mood in the air shift.  No longer solemn, but suspicious.

Laurence’s brows furrowed and he looked at the Third Consort as if he’d lost his mind.  “What would I be hiding from you?  Do you believe that it isn’t my mother in the sarcophagus?”

“Is it?” The Third Consort demanded.  “Leti told me she’d wait for me to return!  She wouldn't leave me so suddenly!”

“Third Consort, Mother was terminally ill.  There was no guarantee of how long she would live.”  There was a bitter tightness in Laurence’s voice.  He’d watched his mother waste away himself.  He knew how difficult it was for her.  “She did whatever the doctors and clerics told her to try to keep her health.  She did all she could to survive.”

“Mortals cannot avoid death when death comes for them, Your Highness,” one of the priests told them in a consoling voice.

The Third Consort grit his teeth, appearing more distraught.  He clawed at the sarcophagus once more and shook his head.  “I don’t believe she would abandon me like this.  She loved me the most!  She would not leave me!”

Luther’s face was covered with tears as he stepped forward.  “Father-”

“This isn’t Leti!”  Before Luther could touch his father’s arms, the Third Consort batted them away and almost stumbled back.  He glared at them with anger and pain in his eyes.  “I refuse to believe that Leti has died!  She couldn’t have left without a word!  You’re lying!  You’re lying!  She’s not dead!  This isn’t her!  This isn’t Leti!”

His voice echoed in the temple.  No one seemed to know how to answer him.

She saw Laurence’s hand tighten at his sides.  His jaw was clenched.  “Whether you believe it or not, I cannot convince you.  My mother has been sealed and we will not open the sarcophagus.”  He looked towards the royal guards stationed around the temple.  “Anyone who attempts to open the sarcophagus will be taken to the dungeon.”

The Third Consort’s eyes went wide and he almost choked.  “You dare?”
 “She is my mother,” Laurence said in a low, dangerous voice.  “Anyone who seeks to disrupt her eternal rest deserves to be imprisoned.”  His eyes flickered around at the guards once more.  “Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”  Several voices chorused in response, but the Third Consort sneered.

“You are not the king yet, Your Highness.”  With his face red and still covered with wet streaks, he stormed out of the building.

Luther watched his father leave in dismay and looked back at Beks, as if asking what he should do.

“Pray for your mother,” she said.  She didn’t know what the Third Consort would do in the throes of grief.  It was best to keep Luther at her side to make sure he wasn’t hurt if the Third Consort threw anything or yelled.

Luther lowered his head and nodded.  He looked towards his eldest brother.

“I am sorry we are so late, Brother Laurence.  I wanted to see her before she left.”  His voice began to choke up towards the end of his sentence.  Beks raised her arm to stroke his back in an effort to calm him.

Laurence took a deep breath and placed his hand on his shoulder.  “I wish you were able to see her, as well, Luther.  Mother was very ill.  I know she would’ve wanted to see you.”

Luther’s eyes were shut as he tried to hold back his cries.  He turned his body back to Beks and she brought him against her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and allowing him to cry against her.

Laurence let out a low sigh.  He patted Luther’s back, just as helpless.  “Come.  Let’s sit and pray.  Laz and Cian aren’t here yet and likely won’t return before the entombment.”

Luther nodded his head and Beks led him towards the pews to take a seat.  As the two brothers sat beside each other, Beks took a seat in the row behind them.

In a week, the late Queen would be entombed in the royal burial chamber beneath the Kadmus Palace Temple.  She would join her father, who she had overthrown in her youth, and her two older brothers, who she had killed.

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If someone told him that he resented the Third Consort, he would be the first to deny it.  Laurence didn’t have time to be resentful.  He was trying to keep the kingdom together after the woman who reigned for over three decades died.  Had the current stability existed before his mother took power, then he would not be too cautious and suspicious now.

However, his mother had ripped the throne from the hands of her brothers and father in a bloody fight for power before he was born.  His grandfather was long dead.  His uncles were dead.  But some of their supporters weren’t, and now the powerhouse keeping them at bay was also dead.

His mother had spent her life trying to re-stabilize the kingdom after generations of incompetence resulted in Kadmus losing almost half its territory, and corruption that sucked the wealth of a formerly thriving kingdom.  She had overthrown her own father and fought her own brothers to the death to ensure that the kingdom could survive.

In the process, she had consolidated power from the nobles and stretched her influence.  Now that she was gone, after just a few days after her death, Laurence could already see those nobles stretching their hands either towards him in an effort to earn his trust or elsewhere to pick up the pieces left in the vacuum of the Queen’s death.

“The Five Houses have donated significant amounts to the kingdom’s emergency and poverty relief funds in the name of honoring Her Majesty, as Her Majesty requested,” Beks said as she sat at her desk diagonal from him.  “All five houses have notified us that they will come for your coronation in two months.”

Laurence nodded, still a bit numb at the realization that he would soon be King of Kadmus.  He’d prepared his whole life for it, but he didn’t expect it to happen so soon.  It was almost surreal.

“Is the Noble House also coming?” he asked.  While two of the Five Houses’ domains were near the capital region, the other three were some distance away and could take weeks to travel to the capital.  They rarely came, and when they came at once, it was usually for a coronation or a national emergency that required their combined effort.

Upon the death of his mother, all the nobles had been informed.  A royal death meant that they were to prepare to come to the capital, as the new monarch’s coronation would take place within two months of the death.

“Yes, my brother called my urapearl.  They are already on their way.”

Beks spent the last two decades with them as a daughter his mother never had.  Sometimes, Laurence forgot that she was not blood related and that she called a man other than him ‘brother’.

The Noble House of Caroline was the furthest of the Five Houses and came the least.  It was usually just Duke Robert or his heir, Lord Amadeo.  Beks hadn’t seen her own birth mother since she left, nor had she seen her two younger siblings.

“Have we gotten any news from Laz or Cian?” His younger twin brothers were sent away after Father Timur passed, at the urging of the Third Consort.  The Third Consort had convinced his mother that sending Lazarus to military school to become a ‘worldly general’ like his father and Lucian to the Great Temple to ‘show the royal family’s connection to the temple’ was a good way to earn the royal family support from both the military and the temple.

Laurence had disagreed with it then and he disagreed with it now, but at the time, he could do nothing to change his mother’s mind.  He could only do his best to monitor the twins and ensure their safety while protecting Beks from those who would take advantage of a young girl.

“The Third Prince has notified the castle that he is on his way back from the pilgrimage.  He will arrive shortly before your coronation.  The Second Prince is also returning with the Wild Dogs.”

Laurence’s eyes crinkled a bit at his brother’s choice of names.  While each specific Legion had location name and number, and each of the battalions beneath them were also assigned a name based on their specialty and a number, Lazarus’ decided to name his division Wild Dogs.

Lazarus’ battalion was also a prime battalion, so he had more people than normal.  In a way, it was impressive that his younger brother could rise through the ranks so quickly and become a prime battalion leader. However, his naming choice was questionable.

We all have our weaknesses....  “Will he also arrive by the coronation?”

“Yes, don’t worry, Brother Laurence.  Everyone will be present,” Beks told him with some assurance.  At his coronation, the great hall would be filled with nobles, high ranking military leaders, and the remaining members of the royal family would swear an oath to support him and Kadmus.  It was purely ceremonial, as he wasn’t naive enough to think that words would prevent underhanded actions.

“Who has the Third Consort been in contact with recently?”

That man’s outburst at the palace temple, demanding to see his mother’s body was unexpected.  People grieved in different ways, he’d already known this, so he was tolerant of the Third Consort’s cries.  However, the accusations thrown and the suspicion in the Third Consort’s eyes had made Laurence alert.

“The County House of Hessing, of which it is expected as it is also the Queen’s late maternal grandmother’s family, has been in contact with the local nobles north of Kadmium and the surrounding area.”

“They’re not an extraordinarily powerful family,” Laurence said as he looked out the window of his office.  “But the late patriarch married off his children to significant families we should be aware of,” he said as he narrowed his eyes.

“The Fourth Prince has told me that many nobles are visiting his grandfather’s home in order to give their sympathies.  The Third Consort is experiencing a heavy flow of visitors at this time, as well.”

Laurence frowned.  “I’ve received condolence notifications, but few visitors.”

“It was your order to limit personal greetings during this time, due to the amount of work you are transitioning into,” Beks told him.  “Brother, my offer still stands to receive guests on your behalf with Lady Eleanor.”

“You just finished the funerary arrangements and are overseeing the coronation,” he said as he turned around.  “Will you have time?”

“Yes, the budget for the coming year and the adjustments for the speculated spend for the next three are completed.  I can do more.”

His eyes softened, but he restrained the pity in his eyes.  His foster sister always worked so hard, even if she was exhausted.  Compared to his brothers, he trusted Beks the most with matters of the family and the government.  She was a brilliant child, soaking up everything she was taught and being able to implement what she learned at once.

His mother was strict with her education.  At times, even stricter than his, but it appeared worth it to have someone who could reference laws and regulations from memory in an instant. In addition to Beks learning about the empire’s governance and history, she also had to be a good future wife for his youngest brother.  She treated her position as the Fourth Prince’s fiancée as a job.  Laurence felt a bit of pity for his brother, but Beks would not treat him badly.

Though, so help his brother if he hurts Beks.

“If you are certain, you may begin doing so,” he said.  Denying her work would only make her uncomfortable.

She bowed her head towards him and rose from her desk.  She gathered the reports she was bringing back to her office.  She gave him one last bow, and then left.

Laurence released a heavy, tired breath and sat back at his desk.  He stared at the numerous documents in front of him and shut his eyes.

Before his mother died, she’d told him that governance could not stop after her death.  She did not want a traditional month of mourning.  The kingdom could not be delayed because of her.  She had worked too hard for too long.

Laurence promised he would keep the kingdom running during the usual month of mourning, though discovering that there would be no month of mourning launched the Third Consort into another tirade.  He claimed disrespect and dishonor, but Chamberlain Wilton had confirmed this was the late Queen’s wishes.

The Third Consort accepted it on the surface, but word had already spread that there would be no traditional mourning month and that Laurence was to blame.  He couldn’t think of another person who’d put such a responsibility on him.  It wasn’t as if the Third Consort harbored good feelings for him or the twins, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the Third Consort felt that his son, who was a ‘child of love’ between him and the Queen, should’ve been heir to the throne.

The Crown Prince brought a hand to his head and dragged it down his face.  Perhaps he should confine the Third Consort to keep him from causing trouble during this transition period.

A knock came at his door and he raised his eyes.  “Come in.”

The door opened and a woman with short, curly brown hair and green eyes came in.  She wasn’t wearing a dress she usually wore when she came to the palace and upon realizing it, Laurance sat up straight in his seat.  His fiancée would not enter the palace dressed so casually in a soldier’s training tunic and pants if it were not urgent.  She was a marquis’ daughter and actively trained with her family’s soldiers.

They’d been engaged since they were babies and grew up as close friends.  Marquis von Glasser was a strong supporter of his mother and had gone into battle with his father.  The von Glassers were staunch supporters of him even now.  Their wedding had been postponed when the Queen became ill and now, after her death, they would need to wait another year before marriage.  He wished they had married earlier.

Lady Eleanor wore a calm look on her face as she stepped inside.  She bowed her head to greet them and the door behind her was shut by a guard waiting outside.  Once the door was shut, she shot up and crossed the room, reaching into her tunic to take out a letter.  Without a word, she handed it to him and bit her lips.

Laurence took the piece of paper and opened it in silence.  He made it through one sentence on the single sheet when his heart dropped.

He raised his eyes to look at Eleanor.  “When did you receive this?”

“My father received it from our men stationed nearby this morning.  Father dispatched his men in the area as the matter was urgent.”
 A tight ball of dread weighed his stomach and he lowered his eyes.  He was grateful to his future father-in-law, but his hand still shook.

“Do they know when it happened?”

“Last night.  It seems that they were ambushed.”

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head with dismay.  “Who would ambush a religious party on a pilgrimage?”

“The St. Cormac Trail goes along the low desert territory of Meskra.  In the last five years, Meskra been expanding territory.  Paraxes has also been dealing with Meskra’s expansion into their agrarian areas along their border.”

Laurence re-read the letter once more.  “They’d be so daring?  It is an unspoken rule that pilgrims on the trail aren’t targeted.  Even bandits in the area have respected this for years.”

Lady  Eleanor took a deep breath.  “Meskra’s Crown Prince Zarios seems to dare.”

The corner of his eye twitched.  He took the piece of paper and pinched it between his fingers, allowing it to slowly burn into ashes.  His mother had a faint spirit core, but his father had earth biha.  Laurence’s biha well wasn’t obscenely large nor was his ability strong, but it was enough to set small things on fire.  Father Timur had wind biha, but neither of the twins inherited a well or core.  The Third Consort had neither and Luther also lacked a biha well or a spirit core.

The ashes from the burn sheet fell around his hand and he frowned.

“For the time being, don’t let anyone know about this.  We need more information,” he said.

Lady Eleanor nodded, but paused.  “What about Beks?  We should tell her.”

His breath caught in her throat.  “Not yet.  She’s going to start seeing guests on the family’s behalf in regard to my mother’s death.  Give her another day to settle that and then tell her.  We may have more information then.”

His fiancée nodded her head.  She let out a low breath.  “Do you think Prince Lucian is all right?  He only had a few years of swordsmanship before he went to the Great Temple.  I doubted he had a chance to practice there.  The pilgrimage caravan was well guarded, but as of last night, their whereabouts are unknown.”
 Laurence didn’t answer at once.  Lucian should’ve had a chance to practice.  In fact, Lucian should’ve reached the level of paladins.  Laurence planned so much to ensure that the twins were well-rounded even though he was so far from them.  It was only when they were prepared for anything that they could survive after being conspired against.

“I believe in Cian,” Laurence replied with his own conviction.  “He is capable.  Even if his pilgrimage caravan were attacked, he wouldn’t allow himself to die so easily.”