by Daya Daniels
“Yes.”
Alexander steps forward. “Yes, she is, and I want this to stop, Terra.”
“And you can see everything in those nightmares just as Your Majesty sees them?” Terra tips her head my way, waiting.
“Yes.” I let out a breath, unable to believe or accept how any of this could be real.
“You question your God?” She directs the question to me.
“Yes, I do.” I stand a little taller. “I am a devout woman, Terra. I believe in prayer and forgiveness and mercy, but something such as this has never been spoken of in the Holy Bible. I am inclined to believe that it is the work of—” Letting out a huff, I do not finish my statement.
Two sets of eyes fix on me.
“This isn’t the work of any man.” A breath leaves me when I confess my beliefs. “I am inclined to believe that this is the work of evil.”
Terra cracks up laughing. “Oftentimes men and evil are one and the same, Princess Briar.”
Her amusement offends me.
Giggling overtakes her and the cryptic sound of it bounces off the walls and skitters into my ears, making my flesh crawl. The rats squeak and scurry across the stone floor. That pot almost boils over.
“SILENCE!” Alexander stomps toward Terra.
The old witch balks at his volume.
He points a finger her way. “By God, you will tell us what you see, Terra, or I shall ensure you will be entombed in this dungeon for all eternity.” Alexander’s eyes practically glow under the dim light.
Sighing, Terra’s eyes fix on mine. “You are a woman of God, you say…”
“Yes, of course.” I inch closer to where she stands.
After dropping a few dead rats into her boiling pot of who-knows-what, she grabs her metal rod and begins to stir. The bubbles come quick. The stench is unbearable. I slap a hand over my nose and mouth, desperate not to inhale it.
Alexander only remains still.
Slowly, the contents of that big black iron pot grow green.
A glowing green.
A color I can’t say I’ve ever set my eyes upon before.
The light is penetrating.
It fills this once dark chamber and makes it come alive.
“I will show you what I see, Your Majesty.” Terra’s eyes beg Alexander to step closer.
I do the same.
Side by side, we stare into Terra’s pot.
The gasp which leaves my chest almost deprives me of all the air which I’ll need to live.
Alexander
THE LAND…
It is so pure.
Even while viewing the scenery through the rippling green ingredients of Terra’s pot, still, I can see the beauty.
“A thousand years ago, Your Majesty, when your bloodline still controlled these lands, it was said then that England would rise. It was said that this kingdom would grow to great heights. It would become an empire.”
My eyes narrow when I get a view of the hills and the mountains but…
Briar slaps a hand to the middle of her chest. “The fire.”
In the pot, the land is scorched for miles.
“England will become an empire.” My eyes flicker up to Terra’s. “It will.”
Terra hums.
Since I’ve been sitting on the throne this kingdom’s rule has only expanded, and I desire more.
Great men rule countries. Exceptional men ensure that their country rules the world.
England will in time become more.
It is my vow.
A promise to my country.
A declaration to my bloodline and the House of Montforthe-Byron.
“As you say, Your Majesty, but there are no rewards without sacrifices…” Terra stirs.
I see more barren land which is devoid of people and life. It is desolate for miles.
Is this England?
“Terra.” The moniker slips from me on a gasp.
“There is unrest, Your Majesty.” Terra frowns. “And there has been since the day your father died.”
I stand straighter.
“I cannot tell you I know the meaning of it.” Her mouth shuts. “As I have said…something is obscuring my visions but the spell I had casted all those nights ago, Your Majesty, has allowed me to at least be present in your nightmares.” A short laugh comes from her. “Honestly, with all the difficulty I have been having lately seeing through these walls, I was utterly shocked that it worked.” Her excitement calms. “It is the only way I can help. I’m sorry to say that I cannot see any other way.”
I hang my head low, not appreciating the evil witch’s intrusion when I am asleep, but I’ll allow any help she can provide. “Something is coming, Terra.” I can feel it in my bones. “Something is coming for us.”
“And your union is not helping…” Terra tsks.
“What do you mean?” With wide eyes, Briar becomes paralyzed.
Terra glances Briar’s way. “She is with child.”
I beg your pardon.
“Yes, there is a seed which you have planted inside your soon-to-be queen which continues to grow.”
Briar meets my eyes.
“Yesssss.” Terra giggles. “She is with child.” Unfazed by the news, Terra continues to stir.
I suck in a big breath.
Pride.
Relief.
Happiness.
Briar’s expression is a mixture of surprise and confusion and then slowly her hand moves to her belly. “I am pregnant?”
“Yessssssssss.” Terra peers into the pot. “Isn’t that what you both wanted?”
“Yes, of course.” I inhale sharply through my nose.
“Well, good then, Your Majesty.” Terra grins. “So, now your wish has been granted…”
I plant a kiss to Briar’s lips. “We are having a child.”
“Yes, we are having a child.” Her worried eyes look around.
“The more you have wanted her…The closer your union has become, Your Majesty, wouldn’t you say that the more you have suffered in your sleep?” Terra smirks. “The more you have grown to love and care for the woman who now stands before you, those nightmares have gotten worse, hmmm?”
My brows dip down to my nose.
I am a slave to my heart’s desires…
And I am paying the price for that.
“The closer you both become, the more restless Raven Forest grows.” Terra does not look at me.
“Yes.” I admit a truth which should never be spoken aloud.
Briar remains silent.
Terra sighs. “I suspected as much, Your Majesty.”
“What is the meaning of all this?” I beg to know the answer.
I would offer Terra my soul for the answers which we seek.
“Then you will find that as your love grows…” She hesitates to speak more.
My chest heaves as I wait for the old stubborn witch to finish her sentence.
She does not and I only grow more impatient as the seconds tick by in this awful chamber.
I cannot tell if her refusal to speak has the intention of annoying me or protecting me.
But, I need no protection.
I AM A KING!
“I demand that you speak, Terra!” My jaw sets tight.
The old witch ceases her stirring, and exhaustion causes her face to wrinkle even more than it already is. “You will find that as your love grows…as your child grows…as your rule stretches wider across this earth, Your Majesty, the worse it will alllll only become.”
CHAPTER
X
Briar
FALL LEAVES US…
My eyes sweep over the intricate architecture of where I stand inside of Westminster Abbey. This morning, except for the whispering wind which washes over the windows of this church, all is quiet after Archbishop Ramsey had just finished reciting the Lord’s prayer.
This church is a masterpiece.
&nbs
p; Opulent.
Holy.
And filled from wall to wall with white roses.
Their pleasing scent permeates the air.
It has been said that William the Conqueror once stood here in this very same spot for his coronation.
Days ago, we traveled from Hertfordshire under the heavy protection of the guards and the knights by carriage to arrive in London. The journey was long but not arduous. Just the notion that I would soon be in another city was enough to keep my hopes up as we traveled over hills and valleys to make it here.
London is sprawling and full of people—more than I’ve ever seen before.
Shortly after the news spread that we would be wed here today, the people surrounded Westminster Abbey. Davide, Caspar, and Gaius were apprehensive. Especially since no one knew what to expect.
Just as I did not.
The King of England…marrying a common woman, a woman who has already been married…to his brother. A woman who was once a handmaid. And now, a woman who is with child.
All that flooded my insides was worry, just as it does now…and fear.
Alexander stands to my left and I remain on his right. He offers me his hand and I slip my shaky one into his. We turn and face each other. Looking as handsome as ever with his locks pulled away from his face and donning a thick burgundy robe, Alexander towers over me and the bejeweled crown atop his head sparkles. A blush races across my cheeks and settles over my décolletage. I am so hot even though the air is so cold.
My heart swells and hammers, twists and pounds.
I wish Father could be here.
No one makes mention of the Queen Mother’s absence.
It seems as though all of England has simply forgotten about her entirely.
Just beyond Alexander’s shoulders, I spot Vesper who, with a tear streaming down her cheek, clutches Anna and smiles. Gaius, Davide, and Caspar stand at attention just behind Alexander, swords clutched tight and donning their traditional light armor worn for these regal occasions. The illustrious House of Montforthe-Byron crest decorates the shields they hold and the knights—the King’s men—stand in perfect formation.
The three men do not smile, only perform their duty to protect us.
Every soul here is quiet, not a word is spoken, or a breath breathed on this cloudy morning.
Archbishop Ramsey’s large frame nears. “Briar, do you take Alexander to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him for as long as you both shall live?”
I gaze into his exquisite grays. “I will.”
Alexander stands a little taller.
Archbishop Ramsey smiles. “Alexander, do you take Briar to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her for as long as you both shall live?”
“I will.” Alexander squeezes my hand and I swear a breath catches in his throat before he makes the next declaration. “I, Alexander, take you, Briar, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part; according to God’s holy law.” The man who I love speaks slowly, keeps those eyes on me and smiles. “In the presence of God, I make this vow.”
I do not stop the tear which runs away from my right eye and falls down my cheek.
His words are beautiful.
His promises are powerful.
I am in the presence of a man who is royal in so many ways.
Archbishop Ramsey glances my way.
“I, Briar, take you, Alexander, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in healthy, to love and to cherish, till death do us part; according to God’s holy law.” I peer into the depths of Alexander’s haunting grays. “In the presence of God, I make this vow.”
Archbishop Ramsey faces all those who fill this church. “Will you, the families, friends and loyal subjects of Alexander and Briar, support and uphold them in their marriage now and in the years to come?”
“WE WILL!” The volume of our gracious crowd causes me to flinch.
A chuckle leaves Alexander.
“You may exchange rings.” Archbishop Ramsey holds the bands in a hand and offers them to us.
Surprise races across my expression when I spot the fine sapphire and diamond ring which the Queen Mother once wore when I realize that it is now being offered to me. It is tradition, I remind myself.
Alexander slips the ring onto my finger.
It settles there with a notable weight and my mind is easily afresh about what it all means.
I am now a wife.
I am already a mother and soon will be responsible not just for one child but two.
I will be a queen…but not just yet.
With shaky fingers, I pluck up Alexander’s ring and slip it onto his thick finger.
His nostrils flare when it glides over his knuckle and settles in its rightful place.
It looks perfect there, golden and beaming and bright.
Archbishop Ramsey’s cheeks glow with joy. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
Slowly, while still hand in hand, Alexander and I sink down to our knees to land on the soft cushions set out ahead of us.
Archbishop Ramsey’s voice rises and bounces off the walls of this church much like the organ music had only moments ago. He holds the crown in his hands, the same one the Queen Mother once wore. It is slathered in rubies and sapphires which are all affixed in a headpiece completely made of gold. “England has long needed a queen to reign at King Alexander’s side.” He lowers his head and mutters a few words to himself. “I am pleased to command this ceremony following the preceding nuptials and with the full blessing of His Holiness, the Pope, I offer your wife, Alexander, who is not royal by blood, the crown.”
I steady my breathing.
Facing ahead and maintaining a stone expression, Alexander’s firm grip tightens on me.
The dent between Archbishop Ramsey’s brows deepens. “Briar, are you willing to take the Oath?”
My chin lifts. “I am willing.”
Archbishop Ramsey places the Holy Bible in my hands. “Do you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of the Kingdom of England, alongside your husband, King Alexander, according to their respective laws and customs?”
“I do.”
“Will you, alongside your husband, King Alexander, use your power to cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all your judgments?”
“I will.”
“Will you, alongside your husband, King Alexander, to the utmost of your power, maintain the Laws of God and the true profession of the Gospel?”
“I will.”
Alexander beams with pride.
“The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep. So help me God.” I press a kiss to the Holy Bible.
Archbishop Ramsey smiles. “Here is wisdom. This is the royal law. These are the lively oracles of God.” He lifts the curtana in his hands and touches my left shoulder lightly with the Sword of Mercy and then my right. “Oh God, the crown of the faithful; Blessed we beseech thee this crown, and so sanctify thy servant, Briar, upon whose head this day doust place it for a sign of royal majesty, that she may be filled by thine abundant grace with all royal virtues; through the King eternal Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
The crown falls…
It now rests atop my head.
Alexander’s smile stretches from ear to ear.
“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” Archbishop Ramsey makes the sign of the Holy Cross.
I hold my head HIGH and then with Alexander’s encouragement…
I
rise.
We
rise.
Just as he promised…
Side by side
and hand in hand, we stand together.
Strong.
Loyal.
Dedicated to each other, to our children, and above all, to England.
The knights send their gleaming swords high to the sky and cheer!
A trumpet sounds.
Outside the ground rumbles.
This church has been sealed up tightly since this ceremony began.
Frantically, I look around, searching, breathing, heart beating against my rib cage.
Alexander clutches my hand tightly as we are ushered to the throne. Facing all who crowd this church on this very memorable occasion, we are offered Communion. I am so very grateful that all the while, Alexander never lets my hand go.
A trumpet sounds once more.
It is a scene befitting a king and a queen…
Alexander eases down into his seat, taking a position I have seen him settle into so many times.
He wears the crown well.
I sit just as he does.
But, I cannot make myself comfortable.
I am stiff, as if rigor mortis has set into my limbs or perhaps it is fear.
Alexander offers me no expression at all, only breathes.
I attempt to do the same, but I am failing.
I am afraid.
A man rushes around the church, and with haste, unlatches all the stained-glass windows and pushes them open. My lungs fill with a desperate breath when I absorb the commotion which drifts in from the streets outside.
It is thunderous and loud and vicious.
Alexander squeeze my hand and I am grateful for his strength which he attempts to fortify me with.
But I am terrified.
The people of England could very well decide to burn Westminster Abbey down to the ground if they are not pleased about what I am assured has been one of the best days of my life.
I am a wife. I am a mother. I am in love.
Alexander
WE’VE BEEN SITTING HERE for quite some time now.
I do not smile although one bright and beaming threatens to bloom across my face.
We face forward as the chosen artist sketches the scene and marks our faces down for all eternity so that we are never forgotten. Occasionally, Briar wipes her tears away, but she mostly maintains her composure.