by Daya Daniels
CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.
The air this morning is crisp, and the sky above is nothing but gray. Still, it is picturesque.
Gaius laughs. “You are quite skilled, Your Majesty.”
“As skilled as you are…”
“If not better.” He smirks.
“Oh, do not fucking flatter me, Gaius, it does not become of you.” I let out a growl. “My defense is weak this morning and my grip on this sword is lazy. I am tired this morning. It shows in every move I make as we dance around this courtyard. Please, most honorable knight, call it as you see it!” I lift my arms high toward the sky.
Gaius sends me a look. “What kind of man would I be if I did not flatter my king—the man I pay homage to whenever I get the chance—every now and again?”
“An honest one.” I tip my head in his direction.
Laughing, Gaius charges and swings. His sword moves large sections of air my way when he swings and if not for the force of his heavy blade when it connects with mine, the gust of wind his swing arrives with could shove me back all on its own.
“There are not many honest men left in this world, Gaius.”
I offer him a smile when I send my blade overhead and connect with his sword.
SCRAAAPPPPPEEEEEEEE.
The blades clash and a searing noise rips through the English air.
It is a battle of might.
“We also need to discuss Prince Zaccai’s extended stay in France, Your Majesty.” After expelling a long sigh, his words come at me deep and rapid. “And then, we, of course, have the matter of your mother and Jean-Baptiste who continue to live out their residence in the dungeon to address with urgency.”
“Yesssss, Hamilton, we have much to do, but in time, we will get to it…” I chuckle.
“Your Majesty.” His voice rises but it does not earn my attention.
Growling, I stop, stare up at the sky above, and breathe.
I drop my sword.
It hits the stone beneath my boots with a clank.
“We have pressing matters to attend to, Your Majesty.”
I shut my eyes and adore the cool breeze as it washes over my bare chest. “The only pressing matter, Hamilton, for you, today, shall be announcing my upcoming nuptials to Princess Briar to the rest of the world.”
“Your Majesty—”
I do not bother to give him a single glance. “Hamilton, you-are-dismissed.”
Soon, it becomes silent again and I am grateful that the blabbering stops.
“Are you ready, Your Majesty?” Gaius urges our sparring to recommence.
“Of course.”
WE GET ON WITH IT!
Briar
“IS THAT THE KING?” Glancing up at me, Anna hides in the folds of my dress.
We stand in front of the large window.
Bare-chested, yelling obscenities and jumping around the courtyard, Alexander spars with Caspar beneath the early morning sky.
I force my lips to shut, finding myself drifting off and staring for far too long at his muscular frame. He is a masterpiece in the flesh. All firm pecs, powerful arms, and a chiseled stomach which could have been carved right from marble by the looks of it. My fingers twitch to touch it and to trace the line of sparse hair which runs from the middle of his chest, down the line of his stomach and to…
God help me…
Gnawing on the tip of my index finger, I snap out of my lustful daze. “Yes, that is King Alexander.”
“He is strong.” Her blues dust me when she blinks.
“Yes, he is strong.”
“Will he be your husband soon?” She places her tiny hand in mine.
“Yes, he will be, God willing.”
“So, does that mean I will have another father since you are my mother now?”
Raking through Anna’s curls with my fingers, I smile, because I truly do not know how to answer her question. “We should get you some breakfast. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
A knock lands on the door.
Quickly, I nudge Anna to find a place in the fabric of my dress and I shift to stand in front of her. “Come in.”
Sister Rebecca peeks her head in the door before she proceeds inside and when she does, she shuts it behind her. “Goodness, Briar, what on earth is so pressing this morning that I must be pulled out of prayer service to come and see you?” She scowls.
I take a deep breath.
“What is it?” She marches forward, arms extended and then they land on my shoulders.
Taking a tentative step and scooting to the side, I reveal…Anna.
Sister Rebecca slaps a hand over her mouth. “What on earth have you done, Briar?”
My features crumble.
Sister Rebecca drops down to one knee and examines Anna—her eyes, her skin, her nose. She encourages her to open her mouth and inspects away. “Briar, you were given strict instructions…”
“I know.”
“The King is going to have your bloody head for this.” She encourages Anna to step forward.
“She is well, Sister Rebecca.”
“How on earth do you know that?” She regards me with fierce eyes. “Has she been examined by Shaw?”
“No, of course not.” My voice is small.
Sister Rebecca rises quickly. “What do you mean?”
I say nothing.
“Briar.” Sister Rebecca edges closer and then she gasps. “Oh, dear God, no one knows she is here?”
“No.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
Maybe.
Sister Rebecca paces, mumbles words to herself, prays in Latin…
Anna tugs on my dress. “Am I going to be sent away, Mother?”
“No, of course not.” Encouraging Anna to ignore Sister Rebecca’s panic, I take her hand again.
Sister Rebecca’s eyes focus on me. “You are due to be married to the King, Briar. Why would you do this now?” She starts up the pacing again.
“Do we ever get to choose the perfect time to help others, Sister Rebecca?”
She stills. “No, we do not.”
I lift a shoulder, silently begging this woman to understand.
“The people in the village are sick, Briar. And you bringing this child here…” She scrubs her face with a shaky hand.
“Anna is not sick. She is fine. She is perfectly fine. See.” I encourage Anna to smile.
“How old is she?”
I gesture with a hand. “She’s five years old, I think.”
A loud breath gushes from Sister Rebecca before she paces even more this time and much faster.
“What was I supposed to do?” My face tightens with anger. “I could not just leave her there…”
Sister Rebecca shakes her head. “We had strict instructions from the King, Briar.”
“I know, but…”
Sister Rebecca’s gaze sears into me before she clutches my face by the sides with her hands. “You are due to marry the King. Do you truly understand what that means? You are set to become the Queen of fucking England, you bloody cunt!”
Her profanity makes me take a step back.
“You are already disobeying him, and you are not even his wife yet.” She snarls.
I hadn’t looked at it that way…
“You have taught me to have a kind heart, Sister Rebecca.” I gasp for air.
She points a finger in my direction. “You cannot teach that, Briar. I did not teach you that. As much as I would like to claim that attribute of yours as being one of my teaching, it is not.”
“We speak of kindness. We speak of charity. We exist each day to help the people!”
“Yes, of course, Briar, but not this way.” She makes a face. “Do you not see what you have done?”
I am lost for words, confused, abhorred that I am being punished for caring too much.
“What was I supposed to do?”
Sister Rebecca’s shrug is big when she tosses her arms up in the air.
“Was I supposed to just leave her there to starve and die?”
Anna clutches my hand tighter and tucks away behind me a little more, hiding.
“If you have jeopardized your future by doing this, Briar, you only have yourself to blame…”
“Sister Rebecca.” My voice begs when I say her name.
“No.” As if I am the most disgusting sight to behold, she refuses to look at me. “He-is-the-King.”
“Sister Rebecca.”
“Do you know how many women in all of England would love to take your place, you bloooooody fool?”
My head jerks back at her wicked honest words.
“Of all the things you have done in the past, Briar, this is by far the most reckless and the most stupid. And it is one that I honestly want to have no parts of…” She rushes to leave but takes more than five steps back when Vesper appears in the doorway and slips in.
“I need you to care for her, Sister Rebecca, while I am away,” I call after her.
Shaking her head, the nun who has supported me most of my life, leaves.
A tear rushes down my cheek.
Anna slips out from behind me, buries her face in my dress and wraps her tiny arms around my thigh.
Vesper’s chin dips low and she strides toward us slowly as if she is approaching an oddity. “What is that, Briar?” Her browns widen.
“It is a child, Vesper, what does it look like?” I wipe my cheeks.
She moves slowly. “And where did you get it from?” Her expression is strange and almost comical.
I offer no answer, only stare at my sister.
“The chest…” She laughs softly. “The one which nearly kicked my spine out of its rightful position.”
I nod. “Yes, the chest.” I wipe a hand over my face. “We will need to keep her hidden.”
Without words and nodding lazily, Vesper drops to her knees.
“My name is Anna and I’m five years old, I think.” Anna chuckles. “And this is my mother.”
Vesper chokes back a laugh.
I only blink.
Vesper grins. “My God, Briar, she even looks a bit like you. This is incredible.”
“Who are you?” Anna directs the question to Vesper.
Reaching out, Vesper twirls Anna’s hair. “Often, I do not know, but for all intents and purposes, I am Vesper.” She lifts a brow. “But, I think since this is your mother, as you say, and I am her sister, that would make me your aunt.” She grins.
I laugh a little through my tears.
“It is very nice to meet you, Anna, who is five years old, we think.” Vesper winks at us.
Anna giggles.
“I think we are going to be very good friends.” Vesper takes Anna by the hand and leads her away from me.
Taking slow steps toward the window, I allow myself to weep.
“OH, DEAR GOD!” Beyond the window, a woman screams a deathly scream.
Wiping my eyes, I peer through the glass at all the commotion which is going on beyond the walls of Berkhamsted Castle. Suddenly, all the land which is green for miles seems to run red.
Alexander
“CLEAR A PATH FOR the King!” The guard marching ahead of me yells.
Having already crossed over the drawbridge and working to shrug into my shirt, I stride ahead.
A crowd has already gathered.
The guards flank both sides of the gathering where Shaw is hunched over with narrowed eyes.
“Your Majesty.” Hamilton rushes forward. “Your Majesty, please keep back.”
I silence him with the gesture of my hand.
Shaw meets my eyes and with a little shake of his head, he, without words, advises me that the situation is grim. The incessant weeping which surrounds us mixes in with the soft breeze. The fresh scent of grass and the English air fills my nostrils. I take one more step and then another and another.
“I am sorry, Your Majesty, but there is nothing we can do.” Shaw frowns.
My face twists into the most heinous expression as I examine the dead body which lies at my boots.
Matron Rhodes covers her mouth and nose and continues to weep. “She loved the moat.”
Pardon me?
“She has always found lingering near it soothing, I am not certain why.” Matron Rhodes sobs.
The Duchess of Manchester lets out a wail before she collapses in her husband’s arms.
“I would say the cause of death is drowning, Your Highness.” Shaw’s brows arch.
Sister Rebecca is already praying.
But prayers do not bring the dead back to life…
I cock my head to the side and regard Morganna…only she doesn’t quite look as I remember…
Her skin is the same hue as the sky. Her mouth is fixed in a slanted position. And her once blonde locks are dark since they’re saturated and stuck to her limp body. There is no animation in her features. All is gone…
The Duke of Manchester approaches me. “She disappeared last night just after the torches went out around the castle. I thought maybe she’d just gone for a stroll and would return with the morning light, but she never came back.”
“Your Majesty.” A guard steps forward to speak. “We searched the castle…We found her here. We believe she has been in the moat for quite some time.”
I nod a little nod.
“I am very sorry.” I turn to face the Duke and Duchess of Manchester. “You have my condolences.”
The couple nods before they hobble away and stand near Sister Rebecca and begin to pray.
I bow my head and settle into the Lord’s prayer in Latin, mumbling the words in unison with the small crowd which has gathered here. “Pater Noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum…”
“What on earth is going on?” Briar rushes forward.
With one grasp, my fingers curl around her forearm, stopping her from passing where I stand.
“Oh my God.” Twisting around, she crashes into my chest and I hold her tight. “Is she dead?”
I pull her close. “Yes.” I mumble into her tresses. “Yes, she drowned.” Twisting to my left, I regard Vesper who watches our interaction with a curious expression, but she looks away from me before I can discern it.
“I am very sorry for your loss, Duke and Duchess.” Vesper rests a hand on the Duchess’ shoulder and squeezes. Then she wipes a fallen tear off her cheek and sobs softly. “May she rest in peace.”
The breeze washes over us.
Death surrounds us.
It swirls and leaves its rotten scent cloying us before it is washed away with the wind.
I press a kiss to Briar’s forehead, and I hold her near to my heart.
“So much death, Alexander.” Briar looks up at me.
“I know.”
“I cannot take it anymore.” She trembles.
Surrounding her with my warmth, I press my lips to her temple and mumble promises only she can hear.
Vesper glances at us over a shoulder.
It is such a solemn look.
Endearing even.
A prayer is whispered from Briar’s lips. It is one for Morganna in which she wishes her peace in death.
It is a sharp reminder, that eventually…it comes to us all.
***
The constant drip of water is enough to drive a man mad.
Or, rather a woman…
I take slow steps through the cold and dank corridors of this castle, thinking.
It becomes colder the deeper I venture and soon I am enveloped in darkness which is only lit by a torch which burns at the far end of this massive chamber. It provides little light for where I stand but it is enough so that I am able to see.
With my last step, I set my boot down with a THUMP and wait.
“I know you are there.” The voice comes from beyond the iron bars.
I do not smile.
“How generous of you to come and visit.” Her face pops out from the darkness. Shaky fingers grip the iron bars of the cage which separates us, and big eyes which shine with tears regard me. “Alexander.”
“Mother.”
“Are you well?”
“I am.” My eyes sweep over this chamber which is now her home.
I’ve always felt the word dungeon was much too melodramatic for the surroundings here…There is a comfortable bed and a place for her to wash. She is also fed daily. But, where there is no light and one is imprisoned, I suppose the moniker “dungeon” is fitting.
Her eyes lower. “And you?”
I do not know.
“Morganna is dead.”
Mother gasps.
“She drowned in the moat.”
“She loved the moat…ever since she was a little girl.” Her features twist with agony.
“Yes, I know.” I nod. “And this time it had gotten the best of her.”
Mother weeps softly.
“I am sorry, Mother, I know you loved her.”
“I wish you had loved her.”
I could not.
She sniffles.
I say nothing, only examine her features.
She is much the same, but older now, more worn. Perhaps, being hidden away from the daylight will do that to one. Maybe she’s now wearing her sins on her skin. Nevertheless, she looks different.
“I may be in this godforsaken dungeon where you put me, Alexander, but I hear things…”
I do not confirm what she is alluding to.
She wipes away her tears. “You are marrying her?” Disgust slaps her features.
“Yes.”
“You dare to lower yourself, Alexander…” Her nose is tipped back, haughty, as always.
I remain silent.
“You dare to hurt me, still.” Her voice cracks.
“I dare to be happy, Mother, and that is all I have ever wanted. And Briar makes me happy.”
She edges closer in a flash, top lip turned up in a snarl. “As she made your brother happy?”
I only breathe, not wanting to fall to the challenge she is offering but I find I can’t help myself. “No, just as she made Father happy.”
Eyes wide as dinner plates, her head jerks back and she rushes into the darkness where I can barely see her. “Whattttt?”