“And now?”
“Now, the babies are growing and I know they are in capable hands. Before the weather turns cold and steals the colors, I wanted to enjoy the gardens up close.”
“I was going to go for a quick ride to take a couple of the horses for a stretch. They too have been cooped up. Perhaps, if we are quick, you would enjoy helping me.” He offered.
Grace was tempted. She hadn’t been on horseback since before Aislyn was born. Perhaps a quick ride would be pleasant. Glancing up to the window, and her rooms beyond, she debated.
“There’s weather moving in, so it would have to be quick. If you were to help me, we could do two at the same time. Maybe, we could finish even faster and you could still take a walk through the gardens.” He doubled the opportunity presented.
“I have to admit a quick ride would be thrilling. It’s been so long.”
“Then a quick ride it will be. I already have them saddled.”
Feeling mischievous, Grace gave in. “Okay then, let’s go.”
They were off without delay. Grace laughed at the carefree ride, relishing the feel of the wind through her hair. True to his prediction, the weather was coming in fast. Before she noticed the skies turning, they were dark and a loud clap of thunder rang out. As it did so, the horse reared up and she was thrown. She landed hard and was disoriented. It was the last sensation she recognized.
Replacement
Lyford stood abruptly when the guard rushed in. “The queen is dead.”
“Explain yourself. What do you mean the queen is dead? I just saw her this morning.” Lyford demanded, not noticing the smirk that quickly crossed Armen’s face before it was buried.
“I mean, the queen is dead. She joined me for a ride this afternoon and was thrown when a clap of thunder spooked the horse. As near as I can tell, her neck was broken. She was gone before I dismounted.”
Lyford sat down hard. The shock and disbelief raced through his mind, even as he understood the words he heard. Turning to the vizier, he didn’t know which question to ask, landing on awkward. “What do I do now? We have four babies. We have the amendment for the merger that remains incomplete. What do I do? What do I do?” He asked rapidly as panic set in.
Armen took a steadying breath before responding. Everything was playing out exactly as he had planned. “My king, as for the children, we will have to examine our options. The amendment however. There was no stipulation that predicated what would be upon the death of the queen should she pass before time, or completion. As such, I believe you have the balance of the thirty years to secure an heir.”
Lyford sat back, his face a blank canvas for every emotion as it passed. “How do I have an heir now with no queen?” He muttered to himself, but loudly enough for Armen to hear.
Armen whispered his response so as not to startle Lyford further. “You get another queen.”
Quiet or not, the answer jolted Lyford. “What do you mean, get another queen?! I don’t want another queen. I didn’t want the one I had to begin with.”
“I’m afraid, as with the first, you really have no choice. With the merger, you have to produce an heir to ascend, or surrender your kingdom.”
“What have you done?!” Lyford shouted at Armen. “You set this up. You told me it would be the best way to grow my kingdom. It would have been…” His rage trailed off to incoherent mutterings.
“I advised you the best way to retain what was rightfully yours, and to protect those who put their trust in your family. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Armen admonished. “All of it is still within your ability. You need a new queen, and you need to produce a male offspring. Surely that small sacrifice is manageable.”
“Says you. You aren’t the one being forced into another marriage of duty.” Lyford challenged, pausing before continuing as a thought occurred to him. “Do you even have a wife? Do you know what it’s like? Did you get to marry for love, or responsibility? You have no idea what you’re asking me.”
Armen’s face flashed with rage. “I married the kingdom when I became vizier. Anything, or anyone, I wanted, moved beyond my grasp when I accepted the position. I know exactly what I’m asking you. I’m asking you to think of someone other than yourself.”
Lyford pushed back his chair, rose, and left. He had never considered Armen’s position the way it had just been described. He wanted to have an equally impassioned response, but short the words, he opted to escape.
Once again, his rage drove him to his hiding spot beyond the tapestry. This time, Bryn was nowhere in sight. Sitting, staring at the back side of the woven scene, he processed the news. Grace had certainly never been his choice. She had endured him, his demands, and the burden that the merger had placed on both of them. To now, he had never been willing to see it. What would he tell their daughters when they were older? He knew the truth without having to say it aloud. He wouldn’t.
Word was sent to the Coeur d’Alene detailing Grace’s death. Leopold arrived soon after. “Her mother and I would like to take her home.” He began as soon as he was seated.
“We can arrange that.” Armen answered before Lyford could speak.
“And the children?”
“We would be open to them sharing time between both households.” Armen again spoke.
“While we would like to ask for more, we do recognize and appreciate that you are their father.” He addressed Lyford. “Though, it is our understanding that you have little to do with them.”
Lyford wanted to deny it, but couldn’t. He wanted to agree to more, even go so far as letting the girls go completely, but he opted not to. Following Armen’s advice that once gone, the merger would likely go as well, if not be enforced to require him to surrender his kingdom altogether, he defended a claim of lineage he didn’t want to make. “Yes. I am their father. As such, their place is with me, even without their mother. I am willing to allow them to spend time with you, but with respect to our relationships. They are my children. How I interact with them, or raise them, is a matter of my household, not yours.”
“As you wish. I will not interfere, yet.” Leopold cautioned.
Armen perked up at the comment. “Yet? Are you still speaking with regards to the children? Or to the merger? They are significantly different details.”
“As you have brought it up, perhaps we should speak of the merger. We agreed to bring our kingdoms together under one house. The death of our daughter, changes things.”
Armen swung his arm out across Lyford’s chest to hold his reply, speaking on his behalf instead. “It does. And, it doesn’t.” He began. “The amendment was conditional upon the birth of a son to ascend over both kingdoms, or upon the completion of thirty years. There was no distinction made for what would happen in the event of death. Grace’s death was an accident, though even if she had passed from natural causes, or perhaps in childbirth, it would have been an unforeseen, unfortunate, and unaccounted for circumstance. What happens now, is either the agreement stands, or it has to be renegotiated. We believe, in the interest of the subjects of both, that letting it stand would be easier.”
The patriarch of the Coeur d’Alene eased back in his chair and drew a deep breath. “I will agree, but not for long. The loss of our daughter will surely distress many. Returning them to the uncertainty they had before would not make that better. As such, I will give you one year. One year to find a new queen.
If you,” he turned to address Lyford directly, “have not remarried, and consummated your new marriage by then, the merger of our lands will be severed. And, your new bride will have to take on care for my daughter’s girls. I will accept nothing less.” He turned to his attendant. “Write it down. I’ll sign it and seal it.”
Lyford’s head was reeling. One year. It could be the longest or shortest in many. He glanced sideways to Armen who nodded. “That is acceptable.” Armen acknowledged. “One year, and with his new union,” he head canted to Lyford, “the merger agreement remains for the duration of the thirty
years. Add that to what is written, and he too will sign it.”
“Done.”
Duty
Eleven months and fifteen days later, Lyford wed a new queen. It was nearly all Armen could do to get the reticent king down the proverbial aisle once a suitable woman was found. The patriarch of the Coeur d’Alene was present as a witness to ensure the binding was to the letter of the agreement. He was biased against her of course, but noticed the new bride, Ava, smiled brightly at Lyford as their nuptials were recited. He tried to hope.
He left after the traditional hanging of the linens. He would have to allow the amendment to stand now. Only Armen was smiling, but he knew something no one else knew.
Ava was the illegitimate offspring of a Dukes dalliance with his mistress. As the Duchess had yet to have children of her own, she had accepted the child, but upon bearing sons of her own, efforts had been made to marry the girl off quietly. She was expendable. Lyford’s circumstances provided the perfect solution to the situation.
Armen and the Duke had negotiated in secret. She would have three chances to bear a son. If she also failed to produce an heir to the throne, her life would be forfeit, solving the issue once and for all. If she birthed a son, the Duke and his wife’s status would be elevated. Lyford was not aware of the bargain, only that she was his only option as time nearly ran out.
Ava gave birth to a daughter within the first year. As with his first four children, Lyford wanted little to do with Camden. When twins Layla and Kayla arrived a short year later, Lyford was nearly inconsolable.
Armen settled back to watch, waiting for the next attempt. He was still hoping that an heir was coming. But, he was a realist. If Lyford and Ava produced another girl, he would act according to the agreement he had made. It was unfathomable to him that there had not been a male child in the mix yet.
When Ava came up pregnant again, the castle was frenzied. She was larger than either of the previous pregnancies quickly. Speculation was rampant that she would have another multiple birth. Perhaps it would be sons. The entire kingdom awaited the delivery.
Lyford could not have felt the leveling blow any harder. Ava delivered in the early morning hours. The wait was excruciating. Before long he’d heard the two distinctly different cries, praying silently that one was a boy. They weren’t. Destry and Dana were nearly identical girls in every way. The only noticeable difference was the tone of their cries.
Armen didn’t wait long. Before Ava had even recovered, he acted. Unlike with Grace, as the bargain was unknown to everyone else, he acted himself. Creeping into her chambers under the cloak of night, he should have been quieter. Ava woke abruptly, jumped from the bed, and attempted to flee. Reaching a table, she grabbed the small Dirk from the drawer, unsheathed it, and spun to face her attacker. She lost her footing when she recognized Armen, falling awkwardly.
In the end, he didn’t have to act. She fell on her blade. He recognized that she would soon suffocate on her own blood from the wound, electing to retreat and allow the eventual conclusion to come. What he didn’t bargain for, was that she had enough presence of mind to name him. When Elba found Ava the following morning, it was in a pool of her own blood, with Armen’s name written on her bedclothes.
Elba debated for several long moments. Should she confront Armen? No, if what she believed he had done was true, she needed to do everything she could to protect the girls. She should go to Lyford, but Armen controlled him. A realization struck as to what the actual dynamic potentially could be as she debated. If Armen was actually in control of the kingdom, and Lyford was only a figurehead, the arrival of a son could well mean that Lyford was disposable too. She needed to be careful.
She couldn’t help the next question that came to mind, what about Grace? Had she actually fallen from a horse and died accidentally? Or, was there something more nefarious at play? Elba had serious misgivings about the official story. But, with no way to prove what she thought, she would need to bide her time and be watchful. She hated to do it, but she slopped some blood from the pool over the letters that spelled out Armen’s name. She knew, but she could not share what she knew just yet.
Elba summoned the king. He arrived with Armen in tow a short time later. Judging by the reactions, she would wager Lyford had no idea, though he was not significantly distraught over the death, more so that someone had been inside to commit the atrocity. Armen on the other hand, was peculiarly calm. Elba watched his reaction from the corner of her eye, nearly certain she caught a glimpse of a smirk before he turned away. It was not actual confirmation, but it might be as close as she would get.
The castle was searched, but no one was found within who should not have been there. The small Dirk was easily determined to have been the instrument, but as it had lodged where she fell on it, and her hand had fallen away, there remained uncertainty as to whom had actually killed Ava. The entire residence was unsettled for many weeks following.
Lyford’s mysterious disappearances became more frequent. Only Elba had managed to ascertain where he was hiding. The tapestry askew, she stopped to peer beyond it, finding him sleeping in the alcove. Judging by the view, she had a fairly good idea why he chose the spot. It would be another secret she would keep, for now.
Truths
Over the next few years, Elba became adept at eavesdropping. Though it was never shared with the rest of the castle or the kingdom, she knew that the merger amendment was intact, though Lyford had yet to take another queen. Somehow, the condition had been mitigated before he wed Ava. They had until the conclusion of the thirty years for it to be broken if a male heir was not born to the House of Rousseau.
She also knew from a conversation between members of the guard, that Grace’s death was not purely an accident. What she didn’t know, was if Lyford was a party to it. She learned definitively that Armen had given the order, but she did not know the king’s role. Grace had in fact been thrown, but she had not died from that. It had only been a slight of hand trick to cover her murder. Elba wanted desperately to reach out to Leopold, but overheard conversations would prove nothing. And, the deal was set and sealed. There was little she could do to unbind the parties. She would have to continue hiding in plain sight. She too had a role to play, and promises to keep, to Grace and to her father…protect the girls.
The next conversation Elba overheard was between Lyford and Armen.
“No, you don’t have to do it today, but you do need to do it. There is no way to produce a legal heir without a queen. It simply isn’t an option.” Armen was chastising the king.
“Do you believe I don’t know that? I do know that. The problem isn’t that. The problem is that I am not willing to wed, and bed, another woman of your choosing because of their stature. We’ve tried that. Twice, as a matter of fact. This time, I’m doing what I want to do. Maybe, just this once, I can be happy for a change. Maybe that’s what is required to produce a son. We’ve seen what me doing my duty results in.” Lyford spat back.
Armen growled back. “Do what you will. Maybe the third time is the trick. I don’t know. I don’t care. You need a son. Short of figuring out how to grow one, you need a wife for that. So, make it happen.”
“Fine!” Lyford shouted before turning and stomping off.
“Fine.” Armen answered just before the door slammed shut.
Finding Lyford would be simple enough. He was agitated. Which meant, he would likely be hiding behind the tapestry, watching Bryn across the courtyard in the kitchens. What Elba was interested in, was to find out what Armen would do next. Her patience was rewarded.
“He is nearly as stubborn as his father.” Armen addressed a member of the guard whom Elba had not noticed enter.
Peeking around the corner, she was not surprised to see it was one of the ones she had overheard below the windows talking about Grace. She already knew that Armen had given that order, what else was he willing to do? She didn’t have to wait long.
“Perhaps.” The guard replied. “Then again
, his father had a son.”
“I am well aware of his father’s son. For ten years I waited for that boy to be old enough to legally be anointed. He was difficult then too. I’m not certain I can suffer him another ten years if he does finally ever have an heir while we wait for that one to come of age and be old enough.” Armen groused, not lifting his eyes from the roles of parchment across the table.
“Do you believe there is another choice?”
“That will depend on when, and if, he has a son. The thirty years have a set expiration. If he has a son and the timeline expires, there is little reason to wait. It will all be foregone conclusion at that point. My concern is if he continues to have daughters. The thirty years could expire and we will lose everything. Everything I have built while he, and his father before him, thought they were in charge.”
“What do you propose to do?”
Armen ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps it is time to give him what he wants. I happen to know he is quite fond of one of the kitchen staff women. A female in his bed he actually wants might make him more easily manipulated.”
The guard chortled loudly. “I know I’m easier to manipulate by a woman in my bed. If she is wild and wonton, the better.”
Armen glared flatly. “I’m not suggesting for a moment that we bring in another to our arrangement. The chances are just as good that she would spill everything to him over pillow talk. No, I only mean to say that if he is content otherwise, he will be less difficult to deal with on other fronts. Or, he may have little interest in the other fronts at all, which would make things exponentially easier. Having him trifling about is a daily exhaustion.”
“I see what you mean.” The guard nodded. “Keep him happy, and distracted.”
“Exactly.”
“How will you manage it?” The guard asked belatedly.
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