by J. D. Wright
The people cheered once more then began to disperse. Bree took Reeve’s arm.
“Come with me,” she said and escorted him off of the field.
“Well, this just got interesting,” Finn said, walking up to Rowan.
They watched as Bree marched past, glancing at them, briefly. Then they fell into step behind her. They walked in silence until they reached the gatehouse and followed the queen up to the second floor. Bree found it odd that she was spending so much time in this room, recently. She gestured to the table and Reeve walked around to take a seat. Rowan snuck into the back of the room and stood against the wall. Immediately after taking her seat, her mother entered the room, followed by Sir Nicholas, who sat across from Reeve.
At first, no one spoke. The tension in the room was astounding. Bree couldn’t remember feeling this awkward since the moment during her coronation when Rowan arrived. At least she wasn’t at the center of the situation this time. However, since no one else seemed brave enough to ask…
“Sir Reeve, could you please explain why you think that Sir Nicholas is your father?” she asked.
“My mother told me that Sir Nicholas of Junacave is my father.”
“She must be mistaken,” Rowan said, drawing everyone’s attention to the far side of the room.
“Are you insinuating that my mother was lying?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman lied about having a child with a man of noble blood.”
“My mother wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Reeve curled his hand into a fist.
“No one is accusing your mother of speaking untruthfully,” Bree interjected, glaring at Rowan. “However, as I’m sure you can understand, this comes as a bit of a shock.” The fact that he looked so much like Rowan was enough to make Bree believe his story. However, she would have Dagan check him for magic later on, in case he was using some sort of spell to change his appearance.
“I do understand. I only found out three weeks ago, myself, just prior to her passing.”
“Please accept our condolences,” Bree said, frowning. “So if we can assume that you speak the truth, then who was your mother?”
“My mother’s name was—“
“Giselle,” Nicholas said.
“So you remember her?” Reeve asked.
“I do. How, if I may ask, did she die?”
“Illness.”
Rowan left his place against the wall and crossed the room to sit beside his father.
“I don’t understand. Did you know that you had another son?”
“I did not,” Nick replied, turning toward Rowan. “I only spent one night with Giselle.”
Rowan sensed there was more to the story and waited for his father to finish. Nick hesitated, then looked over at Cicilly, who was sitting quietly behind Bree. He didn’t speak, but she seemed to understand what he was thinking. She nodded to him. Then he turned back to Rowan and continued.
“It was six months after I married your mother. I was sent on my first official mission, to accompany Prince Frederick, as he was then, on a trip to the coast, for hunting. There, we set up our camp near a small town called Hosselly. A late night visit to the town’s tavern is where I met her.”
“Are you telling me that you were unfaithful to my mother?”
“I was, yes. Once.”
Rowan look at his father in disbelief. The high regard that he had always held his father in was beginning to look like a fantasy.
“You are the most honorable man that I know. How could you have done such a thing?”
“I won’t make excuses for myself. I was young and made a mistake. I can’t even explain the guilt I felt after returning to your mother. The first night home, I confessed and begged her forgiveness. And she did forgive me, which was fortunate because we found out later that winter that she was pregnant with you.”
“This is unbelievable. Holy hell,” Rowan said, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
It was quiet again, for a moment, then Nick looked across the table at Reeve. The resemblance to Rowan was remarkable. They had different colored eyes. Reeve’s eyes were green, like Nick’s. Rowan had his mother’s brown eyes.
“You said you only found out who I was three weeks ago?”
“Yes. My entire life, until my mother became ill, I was led to believe that my father died at sea. It wasn’t until my mother realized she would not survive the year that she finally decided that I should know the truth. I realize this is a lot to take in.”
“That is a prize understatement,” Rowan grumbled.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Finn stuck his head in slowly, trying to gage the mood of the room, then he stepped in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. The tournament celebration…” he reminded them.
“Oh, yes. Yes, I completely forgot,” Bree said. “Sir Reeve must attend his celebration.”
“Your Majesty,” Reeve said. “I completely understand if you would prefer I resign my--”
“Absolutely not! Your performance was certainly impressive and deserving. You have earned it.”
Reeve stood and bowed, then left the room.
“Your Majesty, I must apologize and beg your forgiveness, as well,” Nick said.
“Whatever for?”
“My transgression against your crown.” When she gave him a blank look, he continued, “I have broken the knight’s code--”
“Any offense made was to my grandfather, Sir Nicholas. Not to me. In my opinion, the only two people you should apologize to are the holiness and your wife. Since your wife forgave you and I cannot speak for the holiness, I would say that your debt is paid.”
Nick bowed and left the room.
“Are you coming, dear?” Cicilly asked, putting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
“In a moment, Mother,” Bree replied.
Cicilly stepped out, leaving Bree, Finn, and Rowan alone.
“What did I miss?” Finn asked.
“We know you were listening from the other side of the door,” Rowan said.
They looked over at Bree, who was sitting quietly with her hands folded on the table. She tried to suppress a giggle, but it escaped. Then another. Suddenly she burst into a fit of laughter. It was uncontrollable as she slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Has she gone mad?” Finn asked, eyes wide.
“Bree, this really isn’t the time…” Rowan started.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Bree said, in between breaths. “It’s just that… you’ve found that you have a daughter… and a brother… all in a month’s time! Ahahahaha!” She sighed, taking a deep breath to control herself.
“She has gone mad,” Finn said, shaking his head.
Chapter Ten
There was a knock on the door, followed by a louder knock. Then another. It wasn’t a pleasant sound to hear upon waking, especially when your head was throbbing. I should have stopped at five pints. Or was it eight? Or was it wine? The knocking turned to pounding and included a bit of shouting from the other side.
He tried to roll over, but something was against his back. Actually, it was someone. But there was another one against his front. And possibly another between his legs, at the foot of the bed. He tried to look, but everything was blurry. Grunting, he rubbed his eyes. The door opened and someone entered, crossing over to the balcony and throwing back the curtains.
“Bastard! What are you doing?” Xavier shouted, trying to shield himself from the rays of sunlight that were burning his eyes.
“That is hardly suitable language to use in the presence of a lady… or three of them,” Tristan said. If you could consider these to be ladies…
Xavier rolled over the bare body of one of the women laying in his bed and stood up. She made a groaning sound then went back to sleep.
“What do you want?” Naked, he walked over to his armoire and took out a clean pair of pants and an emerald green tunic the
n slipped them on. He grumbled and pulled on a pair of brown leather boots. He could feel Tristan’s disapproving glare on him. Tristan would never be seen wearing anything that didn’t resemble royalty. Even now, he was standing across the room in his hosiery and blue puffy-sleeved jacket. And though they were wearing the exact same type of boots, Tristan’s were polished and shiny, just like his buttons.
There were only four years of age between them. However, their personalities couldn’t have been more opposite. Their responsibilities were far different from each other, as well, with Tristan being the heir apparent to the throne of Labara. He was expected to conduct himself in a manner that was appropriate for a future king. And Tristan did at least attempt to behave accordingly, most of the time. His brother, on the other hand…
It wasn’t as if Xavier even wanted the throne, which he made painfully clear every time he spoke about it. He detested the idea. The pressure of holding an entire kingdom’s well being in his hands would be too demanding of his time. So it was fortunate that he would never need to take on the role, as long as his father and brother were alive.
Tristan frowned at his brother’s complete disregard for decency. This was becoming routine for him and Xavier’s newfound hobbies were taking a toll on his patience. Had it been Tristan who was behaving in this manner, their father would have been a lot less tolerant. Even so, he thought it best to handle the situation, himself. He tried to be understanding to his younger brother’s grief. Xavier had been in love with a young lady, the daughter of a noble Labara family. She was recently wed to a wealthy lord who was on his fourth marriage.
But Xavier’s ill attempts of medicating his pain with wine and women were completely ridiculous in Tristan’s mind. It wasn’t as if either of them had a choice in who they could marry, being sons of the king. Xavier was lucky that, thus far, he wasn’t betrothed. Tristan, however, was set to marry Princess Seraphina of Taten. He had only met her once when he was a child and she was a baby. But that didn’t bother him, seeing as a marriage in a royal family was done out of duty and not love. This, he had come to terms with a long time ago.
In fact, his wedding to the Taten princess should have occurred three years ago when she turned sixteen years old. A disagreement between his father, King Nolan, and the princess’ father, King Leonard, had caused their engagement to become extended.
“What do you want?” Xavier repeated.
Tristan straightened his sleeves, pretending to ignore his brother’s sharp tone.
“I want a great many things, however at this moment, it isn’t I that wants anything from you. It is our mother. But if you would rather, I can tell her that you’re occupied…” He gestured to the bed.
“No,” Xavier said. There were some things that a mother just shouldn’t know of.
“Well then, shall we?” he said, walking toward the door.
Xavier glanced back at the bed, still covered with naked women and silk sheets, and shrugged. He didn’t even bother trying to remember their names at this point. He knew they would be gone by the time he returned. His brother would see to it. And each woman would be paid graciously in an attempt to keep the situation quiet. It wasn’t as if he cared to preserve his reputation, but it would anger their father to know that his son was treating women so callously. He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Out on the terrace, their mother was waiting for them. The table was covered in sweet breads, biscuits, cheese, fruit, and wine. It had been a tradition since her children were young to eat breakfast together on the first day of the week. They would usually discuss the week’s activities, kingdom events, among other things. Lately, Isabelle had found it nearly impossible to gather all three of her children together, even for a moment, let alone for an entire meal. On this day, however, she was determined to make it happen.
Princess Rianne was already sitting when her two brothers arrived. Neither of them looked any happier to be out in the chilly spring morning air than she did. Her pretty pastel green gown was getting damp from the dew on the stone bench. She pulled her skirts close when Tristan sat down beside her, then proceeded to take off her ivory colored gloves, placing them on her lap. It was too cold outside without them, but she wouldn’t take a chance of getting raspberry preserves on her new gloves. Like Tristan, Rianne was fond of the finer clothes that being the daughter of a king could afford her. And at seventeen years old, she was already used to getting most of the things she wanted when it came to her father.
Isabelle reached over to kiss Xavier on the cheek after he sat beside her. She could smell the alcohol still on his breath from the night before. He tried to hide it, but she was no fool. She also knew all about the women who accompanied her son to his chambers in the night. She would continue to pretend that she was clueless, but nothing went on in her castle that she wasn’t aware of. Even the hunt for wild boar that her husband was currently on even though he told her he was taking a tour of the new stables.
“Good morning, Mother,” Xavier said. He picked up his goblet, which he knew would be filled with wine, his mother’s choice of drink for almost every meal. Though he shouldn’t, he had to drink it or else he feared she would suspect something was wrong. But the smell of the wine only reminded him of the scandalous acts he committed the night before. Slowly, he sat the goblet back down, without drinking any, and opted for a nice slice of bread instead.
They ate in silence for a while, watching the wild geese that were landing in the lake near the terrace. Isabelle knew that a short time later her two sons would be out near the same lake with their bows to shoot the geese, or at least a few of them. It was great practice and a treat for the castle servants, who would receive the dead birds as part of their meal this evening.
The routine of the kingdom had been the same for many years. There was little deviation from that routine. Labara was the oldest kingdom in the southeast and the third oldest in Everealm. The kingdom had sustained and earned a great amount of wealth throughout the years by exporting wine from its vast fields of mulberry trees, giving Labara quite a tall reputation throughout the realm. They were also fortunate to collect from the silkworms who fed on the mulberry trees. Merchants would travel from the furthest northern coast to acquire a bolt of fine silk or a wagon full of wine barrels, at a hefty price. Of course, there were smaller vineyards all over the land, but nothing compared to a glass of deep red-violet Labaran wine.
Isabelle took another sip and sat her goblet down, looking around at her children. Xavier looked miserable and tired. Tristan appeared bored and Rianne seemed ready to flee at any moment. Seeing no better time to share her news, she cleared her throat.
“It has been several weeks since we’ve all shared an early meal together,” she said. “And I know that you have much more important matters to attend to so I will not keep you long.”
“We’re here for as long as you’d like, Mother,” Tristan said, earning a sharp glare from his brother across the table.
“Actually, the seamstress is on her way here to fit me for a new gown,” Rianne said, hoping it may excuse her. However, her mother paid her no mind.
“I have some news to share with you and wanted to do it in private. I would prefer your father be here, but I suspect this time is as good as any.” The queen paused for a moment to make sure that she had their attention. Then she turned to her daughter and continued.
“Rianne, your father has received a proposal for your hand in marriage from King Carneath.”
“King Carneath?” Rianne asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. I didn’t think King Carneath had a son.”
“He doesn’t,” Tristan said, frowning. He realized immediately what his sister had yet to understand.
“Then, who am I supposed to ma—” She stopped, finally grasping what her mother was trying to say. “You mean him, the king? Don’t you?”
“I do,” her mother replied.
; “But Carneath is over twice my age! Father would never consider such a proposal.” Rianne was sure of it.
“He is considering it.”
“That simply cannot be true! What does he want with a new wife anyway? His first wife had given him several daughters before she died. Right?”
“Three of them,” Tristan added.
“Precisely!” Rianne shouted. “Why would he need to remarry?”
“I suppose he wants a son. Or perhaps he is lonely. It is also possible that he wants a mother for his children. Honestly, that is something I cannot answer,” Isabelle said, keeping calm.
“Mother to his children? I am only a few years older than those children, myself!”
“I find it hard to believe that Father would consider this proposal, as well,” Tristan said. “What could we possibly gain from the arrangement?”
“I have yet to be informed of the details, but I gather it involves acreage of Carneath land to the north, to expand our orchards.”
“Orchards? Is that all my future is worth? A few acres of land to plant more trees? We already have more trees than people in this wretched place.”
“Rianne,” her mother warned. “Your tone is unwelcome at my table.”
“My tone? What about my happiness? Is that unwelcome, too?”
Unable to control her emotions, Rianne stood and excused herself. She turned away from her mother and walked, quickly, back into the castle. She had made it all the way to her room before Tristan caught up with her. He found her curled up on the window seat, crying.
“Go away!”
“I know it may not seem like it right now, but everything will be alright.”
“Is that supposed to comfort her?” Xavier said, entering the room and closing the door behind him.
“What am I supposed to say?” Tristan said, standing beside the bedpost. “If Father approves the proposal, there is nothing anyone can do about it.”