What would Abigail do? I found that out ten days later, when her “labor” started.
***
Of course, nobody let me inside the queen’s chambers. I wasn’t trying to go in, anyway—nothing to see there. Still, Abigail’s screams were truly inspired! I would even say that she managed to turn them into an art!
She was accompanied by the Chartreuses, a life mage, and two trusted maids. It was one of them who was about to give birth. She had no choice.
I honestly sat at the queen’s door, trying to feign worry for her health. The courtiers were clustered next to me; all of us were listening to the screams from the inside. However, I was the only one who could hear two voices instead of one, one Abigail’s, and the other muffled, as if the woman was trying to keep quiet, but wasn’t very successful.
From time to time, I wiped my dry forehead with a lacy handkerchief and thought my own thoughts.
In the meantime, the Chartreuses were trying to locate Carlie. No such luck! Just as well, they could search for my tail while I was in human form. Search all you want, all you get is my rear end.
Every seven days, I paid a visit to Mistress Eliza, and she showed me her prisoner. Carlie was furious, and that was an understatement. What could she do in a rubber room, though?
Yes, there was one in the brothel, for especially “uncooperative goods”, intended to prevent the girls from hurting themselves and help them resign themselves to their future.
To Mistress Eliza’s credit, she barely used it—there was no point, there were more than enough women who agreed to everything willingly.
Anyway, Carlie was scurrying around the room in a tantrum, trying to break the dishes, without much effect, kick the walls—that didn’t even leave a bruise—and attack the guard, the latter especially futile.
The deaf and mute muscle simply put a bowl and a tankard on the floor for her. Eat if you want, or not. She had to relieve herself in a special bucket, all under the constant supervision of the maids. They weren’t in the room, there were special holes in the walls.
I also secured the services of the life mage who worked in the brothel. Don’t grimace. Yes, he would be unable to heal a wound, but he knew the female problems inside out, from afflictions to labor, everything for your money. As for keeping secrets, that was an inherent part of his profession. That was how mages worked. And that guy had his personal motives on top of that. Mistress Eliza had once saved him from the templars, which he was thankful for, and I had offered him a royal pardon.
Yes, dear Church.
Abigail screamed especially loudly, and finally, a baby cried its first cry. Five minutes later, a life mage exited the room.
“A son, ladies and gentlemen! Her Majesty just had a son!”
He handed me the baby. Smirking, I took the infant, while Chartreuse eyed me suspiciously. I wondered what Abigail’s father was expecting—for me to smash the child against the nearest column? He would have never given him to me willingly, but it was a tradition: the child was to be named by the closest male relative. And I was a king, which gave me the first right.
“And thus I name you Rudolph Thomas James!” I didn’t add “Radenor”, not wanting to give birth to later gossip.
“I think the child can be returned to his mother now.”
And I arrogantly showed up in the queen’s chambers. For someone who had just given birth, Abigail looked suspiciously good, even if she was lying on her back in a martyr-like pose.
“Auntie, I congratulate you on the birth of your son, whom I named Rudolph!”
“Thank you, Alex.”
“Please recover as soon as possible, we’ll hold the ceremony and transfer the power to him.”
I don’t think that even an entire room full of life mages could have imbued Abigail with such a burst of energy. Gods, what is so special about that piece of metal on my head? Why did people go crazy as soon as they managed to put it on their heads? They could betray, kill, rob, cheat...do anything, and why?
I don’t get it. I would have loved to dump that weight on someone else, but I couldn’t. Nobody could do it except me, and that meant I had to go on.
“I think I could get up tomorrow...”
Abigail would have sprung up from the bed right there, but...
“Oh no, Auntie, five days, at the very least! And don’t even try to dissuade me! Feed our baby Rudolph!”
“Alex! Noble ladies don’t ruin their breasts! A nurse will do!”
I nodded, understanding. Of course, Auntie, whatever you say... Nurse, milkmaid, whatever.
I bid her farewell and left. Courtiers with armfuls of gifts were crowded behind the door. Let them. The ghosts will listen in on them tonight.
Everybody had heard my words about transfer of power. Soon they would start to drag me through the mud and kiss Abigail’s ass, and we would see who made her promises and asked for something back.
Ugh, I will have to waste so much time reading reports!
Whatever. Gradually, I would recruit people to spy for me and clean out the palace of that filth. I could pull it off, I was a half-demon. And I was also a king.
I must.
***
The next five days were dominated by spy reports.
I kept reading and reading, even if the ghosts did discard the unnecessary information, leaving only the bare facts.
The scale of the remaining corruption was astounding. The treasurer hinted to Abigail that he had always been devoted to the queen, especially if she left him in his position. The commander of the guard, the chamberlain, two senior chamberlains, two thirds of all courtiers...
Whoa. If I decided to execute everybody, I wouldn’t have enough gallows in the entire kingdom. I would have to fix the situation another way.
Finally, the fateful day came.
I was sitting on the throne. In the morning, or, more precisely, at night, I had visited the brothel to make sure that Carlie had still been pregnant. Therefore, the child had no rights to the throne, not being a Radenor by blood. None at all.
Even if he turned out to be Andre’s bastard, even then I would have been the first in line, I would have been recognized by the throne, too. And...
Was I worried? You bet. A lot of things were to be decided on that day.
The steward—who had pledged his loyalty to Abigail, of course—triumphantly threw the doors open.
“Her Majesty Abigail Radenor and her son!”
And Her Majesty floated into the throne room.
White dress, diamonds everywhere, a child in her arms. Her relatives followed her, her father, two brothers, their wives, nephews, the nephews’ wives... How fortunate! All in one place!
She passed through the courtiers, who made way for her, and stopped three steps away from the throne, looking at me expectantly.
I nodded to the priest.
“Let us pray to honor the heaven’s will!” he harped.
I folded my arms, pious, and everyone lowered their gazes and repeated the prayer.
Why? I didn’t want anyone to think any ill of me or to accuse me of black sorcery. I couldn’t afford that, not yet.
Abigail winced, but prayed together with everybody. The priest finished one prayer only to start another, and one more...
Finally, he got tired of that.
“As a humble servant of the Bright Saint, I hereby testify that everything that happens here happens with His full consent, and no dark magic or unholy necromancy is present in this place. Let the holy blessing fall upon this hall, and let it become a haven of truth and justice.”
I stoically endured his sermons. There was nothing I could do, really.
Then I stood up.
“I call upon Radenor as my witness! I am ready to deliver the throne to the rightful king and the lawful heir of my uncle! Chancellor, could you place the child on the throne of his ancestors?”
Chartreuse winced in such a pronounced manner that everyone could see it, but I got him there. Abigail carefully
handed him the baby, and the chancellor walked toward the throne.
Meanwhile, I prudently stepped behind the priest and crossed my arms behind my back. I have nothing to do with anything, really!
Chartreuse laid the child on the throne and turned to the buzzing courtiers.
“Here he is, the true king of Rade—”
He never got the chance to finish. Right under his feet, a white flash of fire broke out, lighting him like a candle, all parts of him at once. His hair, his clothes, his very flesh melted, leaking from his bones. The man mustered a scream, but it didn’t last long.
In two minutes, the fire was out, and the only things remaining of the chancellor were a few charred bones.
What was happening in the hall in the meantime?
Abigail didn’t faint, only due to the fact that she was numb from shock. The men were standing goggle-eyed, some of them bent over and emptying their stomachs right on their feet. The smell of burnt flesh was so strong that my demonic half woke up and started to salivate.
I really want some roasted meat of a char-grilled sinner, mmm... With effort, I brought the nasty thought to bay.
The priest was deathly pale. Half of the women were shrieking, and the other half had simply fainted.
I waited for the flame to die down and then looked at the throne.
The baby was safe and sound. That was right. Alethar Radenor, even if he had been a murderer, a complete tool, and overall, a politician, was not villain, and such cases had also been provided for.
The baby wasn’t guilty of anything. But the one—the ones—who had been plotting to name him an heir... Well, everyone saw that, didn’t they?
Now I had to seize the moment, and I didn’t fail. I stepped forward.
“Marquis Chartreuse, come forth!”
I was bossy enough, and Chartreuse Junior stepped forward.
“Now try to declare this child the king once again!”
Silence.
I sneered, cruel and malevolent. The hall quieted down. The courtiers realized that they were witnessing a historic event.
“You don’t want to? That’s what I thought. You really should have known the history of your home country, gentlemen! Three centuries ago, an unrightful king sat on the throne of Radenor and burned. It’s not magic, oh no. It’s the legacy of Alethar Radenor. Only his blood descendants can sit on the throne, no matter if they are illegitimate or not.”
“The baby is alive!” Abigail shrieked.
Smiling, I shook my head. It really hadn’t taken long for my aunt to recover...
“Alethar Radenor wasn’t a bad man. If the baby was an adult man who decided to lay a claim on the throne, he would have burned. But he’s an innocent child, who hasn’t got a drop of royal blood in his veins. Or am I wrong, Auntie? That’s why your father has burned, and so will your brother, if he tries to declare little Rudy the king. Anyone will.”
“I don’t believe it!”
Whoa, who was that?
A boy my age leaped out from the crowd of Chartreuses.
“I, Diaman Carlos Chartreuse, declare Rudolph Thomas James the rightful king of—”
The second pillar of flame burned even brighter than the first. I grinned.
“Servitor, has anyone in the throne room used magic?”
The servitor, who seemed less put off by that event than before, moved his hands.
“I testify that no magic has been used.”
“Marquis Chartreuse?” I attacked. “So whose child is that? The king’s?”
“Keep quiet!” Abigail hissed. She really shouldn’t have.
“Auntie, do you mean that you’ve cheated on Uncle, conceived a child from another man, and tried to set him as the King of Radenor? Amazing!”
“He is Rudolph’s son!”
“He has no royal blood,” I replied calmly. “I can provide a sample of mine to any life mage for comparison. But I doubt that it would be necessary after today’s display. Radenor will not recognize the boy as its king, and any who dares to crown him will end up the same way.”
Two bone piles presented a convincing argument.
Abigail clenched her fists.
“It’s all your fault! You’re a bastard! Who knows who your father is? You have no right to be the king!”
“I have,” I was as cool as a stuffed half-demon. Grey ice covered me, protecting me from the world, and my eyes reflected it. Sometimes, it felt like ice fragments even fell from my tongue, softly ringing as they touched the floor. “In my case, my royal blood comes from my mother. My mother, who would have become a great queen, if not for you. Well, Auntie, I was going to discard the crown. I hoped that this child was Rudolph’s son, but if he’s not...”
“Guards!”
Suddenly, a circle of guardsmen surrounded the Chartreuses—that’s right, they were Tommy’s men.
Manacles clinked as they snapped shut on the wrists of the former queen.
“As the King of Radenor—its rightful king—I deliver my judgment. The punishment for high treason is death, yet I am merciful. Abigail Radenor, nee Abigail Chartreuse, for your betrayal, you are sentenced to lifelong imprisonment in a convent, the name of which I shall keep secret. There, you shall pray in a single cell for the rest of your life. Nobody shall be permitted to see you or talk to you, other than to give you food and water. Consider this: for every crime, there comes a reckoning. Now, to the Chartreuse family. Seeing as you’re here and you knew everything...”
“No!”
“We didn’t!”
“Your Majesty!”
The yells weren’t unintelligible, but I got the gist. The Chartreuses were trying to distance themselves from their queen. What a wonderful display of familial feelings!
“I am putting you under arrest. Your cases shall be investigated. The innocent shall not be punished. Guards!”
In two minutes, the throne room was empty.
Abigail was the last to be led out, and she was barely holding it together, kicking and screaming in her chains, fighting the guards. And all that time, I was staring at her.
That’s for you, mother. I can’t tell you how I love you, I can’t tell you thank you, but I get to avenge you. I can pay them back for you never becoming the queen or the duchess of Miellen, for your broken bones, for your impotent tears at night, for your pain...
Your line will not be broken. Those who bullied you will get their just desserts. Things are going back to the way they were. Your son sits on the throne of Radenor, and all is right in the world.
I turned to the baby.
“The child is not to blame for the sins of his mother. Countess Morinar, I ask you to take care of him for now. Later, I shall find a good adoptive family to raise him, so he would never know about Abigail.”
“Your Majesty!”
A scream of agony surprised even me, and I barely restrained myself from scratching the back of my head, like common folk.
A woman stormed out from behind the curtain and fell on her knees before me.
“Your Majesty, please do not punish me! Don’t take my son away from me!”
Oops. Could it be?
“Your son, ma’am?”
“Yes, Your Majesty! It was I who gave birth to that child five days ago! The queen demanded that I...”
“So the queen wasn’t pregnant at all?” I feigned surprise.
“No, Your Majesty! Do not put me to death, I beg you! I couldn’t refuse her! She was the queen, and I am just a lowly maid...”
“Couldn’t you have gone and talked to me, told me the whole story?”
“Your Majesty, the queen threatened to kill my husband. He’s locked up now by the Lord Chancellor...”
“Tell me more.”
Hmm, and here I thought that Abigail would at least buy the baby. I underestimated the Chartreuses’ greed.
Intimidate, bully, threaten... I pondered it.
“Fine. Thomas!”
Tommy was right on cue.
“
Take the guards, take that woman, release her husband from the chancellor’s prison, and get him to the palace. Move everybody there to the state prisons, let’s see who’s guilty of what before the late chancellor...”
Tommy nodded to the woman, and she followed him, while throwing me grateful looks and bowing.
I looked around the hall and at the courtiers inside.
“You’re free to go.”
I had never seen anyone exit the throne room as quickly as that. I watched them leave.
“Your Majesty, I am in awe.”
Morinar stared at me, his eyes full of loyalty. I waved my hand.
“Henry, arrange everything. You have the decrees, prepare for the confiscation...”
“Yes, Your Majesty...”
I breathed out. Two problems were left, Carlie and the Church.
I started with the latter, as Carlie hadn’t given birth yet.
***
“I want to see the Retainer. Invite him to the palace.”
“Your Majesty,” the holy thrall pouted. I looked at him coldly.
“If he doesn’t come, I will revoke the tithe.”
Actually, I was going to revoke it anyway, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Aww, he grew so pale!
The next morning, I got a letter from the Confidant of the Bright Saint, who agreed to receive me... In your dreams.
I summoned the chancellor, Henry Morinar.
“Prepare a decree. I will revoke the tithe. The Confidant has consented.”
“Your Majesty!” The servitor was exasperated.
I threw him an innocent smile.
“I think we’ve discussed that...”
“Your Majesty, don’t be hasty, I implore you.”
“I will announce the decree the day after tomorrow.”
The Confidant arrived at the palace in the evening. I looked at him, curious. Now that was a smart man, no mistake about it. His robe might have been expensive, but plain enough, and it was clearly hiding a strong and powerful body, while his eyes were full of intelligence and cunning.
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