by Ann Bakshis
As Caster and I wait at the front of the chapel I’m to be married in, we both feign excitement, mainly to delude the guests about our true feelings on the matter. My father beams with pride as he escorts my mother down the aisle, but the pain on her face mirrors what I’m feeling inside. Kerron escorts Moyra in place of her father and the hostile tension between the two of them can be felt by everyone. I thought for sure the one person Moyra would’ve had a positive response to was Kerron considering they think alike, but the amount of hostility being emitted by him tells me otherwise.
I guess he and I do have something in common after all.
The ceremony is long and arduous. Right after the exchanging of the rings I bestow the medallion on Moyra, who pretends to be awe-stricken by the gesture. The entire congregation cheers once it’s over and joins us in the great hall for a feast of freshly hunted game and lots of mulled wine. I eventually find myself heading down into the kitchen to escape all the nonsense only to discover my father screwing one of the maids in a linen closet. Instead of slamming the door and walking away like I’ve done in the past, I grab him by his shirt and throw him onto the floor. The maid runs from the room while my father tries to quickly dress.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” he roars at me.
“How can you be so vulgar?” I retort. “You have a perfectly good woman upstairs, yet you can’t keep your dick away from anything with breasts. Why do you treat my mother with such contempt?”
“Because like you, son, ours was an arranged marriage,” he says, getting to his feet. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to permit anyone to dictate how I run my life, and that includes you.”
“Yet you made me kill the one person who meant anything to me just so I could turn into someone like you?” I ask, becoming enraged.
“Yes,” he says, smiling with glee. “Just like my father forced me to, as you will order your child with Moyra to do the same. Now, if you don’t mind, I have someone in the village waiting for me.”
He leaves through a hidden door at the back of the linen closet just as my anger hits a boiling point. I pick up one of the butcher knives and throw it at the pantry door, nearly splitting the wood in half. Caster comes down just as I pick up another knife: this one to use on Moyra.
“You’ll destroy your mother if you do this,” he says, seeing the rage in my eyes and knowing the thoughts that run through my head.
“She’ll get over it,” I grouse as I take a step towards the staircase behind him.
“But Moyra’s carrying your heir, David. You can’t hold the sins of the father against an unborn child. You’d be doing exactly what Gregor asked you to do, only against the woman you now call your wife.”
“I don’t care, Caster,” I say, clenching my teeth. “They have to pay… all of them.”
“In time,” he says as he reaches out to gently take the knife from my grasp. “But not at this moment.” He sets the blade down on the cutting board I’d taken it from. “Moyra is waiting for you up in the hall. It’ll look suspicious if you’re gone too much longer.”
I grumble as I step past him and head back up, where I spend the next several hours dancing and drinking. Moyra retires for the night just as the guests begin to leave, but I’m not tired so I tell her to go to bed and that I’ll be up later. Caster and I retreat to the library while my mother also heads off to bed knowing my father is out fucking one of his whores. Surprisingly, Kerron enters a few minutes later with a snifter of brandy. He’s never been one for joining us after parties, so I’m quite taken aback by his appearance tonight. The three of us sit around the lit fireplace without saying a word.
“Where is he?” my father bellows from somewhere down the hall. He bursts into the library and immediately, to my surprise, starts accosting Kerron. “Did you know she was going to stand me up?”
“Who?” Kerron asks, perplexed by the question.
“That woman who used to be your mother,” Gregor demands. “The whore who bore you for me.”
“What?” loudly escapes my lips, which draws everyone’s attention.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know,” my father says, furrowing his brow. “Your mother does, so surely she would’ve told you about it years ago. That woman can’t keep her damn mouth shut about anything.”
“Wait a minute,” Caster says, putting himself in the middle of the situation. “Kerron and David are brothers?”
“Half-brothers, but yes,” Kerron replies. “Only he’s older by a couple of months, which is why he’ll be king instead of me.”
“No bastard will be king regardless of birth order,” Gregor retorts.
“I thought you killed the whore that was bearing your child?” I throw back in my father’s face. “Isn’t that what you told me downstairs only a few hours ago?”
“Were you not listening?” Gregor practically screams. “I don’t let anyone dictate how my life is going to be run. There were several women during that time who were heavy with my children. I murdered all but one, hiding her in the bathhouse she came from as insurance in case you didn’t turn out as I’d hoped and I was forced to put a bastard on the throne. I was smart in doing so, or at least I felt that way until last night. I never imagined you would’ve had the balls to kill the woman you claimed to love so damn much. It’s the one thing I’m actually proud of you for.”
“I haven’t seen my mother in years,” Kerron finally answers. “We had a falling out, so I abandoned her like she did me.”
“Well, you need to go looking for her now,” Gregor demands.
“Why?” Kerron asks, annoyed. “Her life meant nothing to you, so what does it matter if she’s gone now?”
“Because I can’t have her running around spreading lies about me to the other villagers,” my father replies. “If word gets out that there are two heirs to the throne, it could lead to an uprising.”
“Word won’t get out,” my mother says from the doorway.
None of us noticed her enter, and the look on my father’s face at her sudden appearance is one of panic.
“What makes you say that?” he asks, his voice and body trembling for the first time at her presence.
“Because, Gregor, I cleaned up your mess like I’ve been doing for years,” she responds, folding her arms over her chest. “That woman won’t bother anyone ever again.”
The woman I killed… the body Kerron burned… it had to have been her. My mother tricked me into slaughtering a woman she’s hated my entire life. But what are the odds that she and Elizabeth would have the same hair color since chestnut isn’t common in these parts.
Unless…
“Kerron, did your mother have any other children after you?” I ask as my stomach tightens. I glance over at Caster and see the same idea popping into his head.
“Not that I know of, but Gregor bought me from her just after I was born so anything is possible, the way she slept around,” Kerron answers.
“Well, she didn’t bear any more children for me,” Gregor says smugly, which eases my mind tremendously.
I turn my attention towards my mother and glare at her, but she returns my gaze, unflinching.
“David, help me to bed,” she says after a minute of awkward silence.
As I leave the library, I take her hand in mine and escort her down the hall and over to her bedchamber, which is separate from my father’s. When I have her alone, I shut the door and sit on the bed beside her. I know we won’t be disturbed because of the comment she made earlier about my father.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“I didn’t know how,” she replies. “I felt ashamed for allowing it to happen and embarrassed that you’d find out and resent me for it.”
“I don’t resent you,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “Do you know if she was Elizabeth’s mother?”
“No, I don’t, but it wouldn’t surprise me. If anything, you and your father have one thing in common: the type of women you’re both attracted to
. At least he isn’t her father, so you can free yourself of that burden.”
“Did you know about the others? Both the women and children?”
“I had my suspicions, but I could never confront him about it. A wife in my position doesn’t go against her husband in any manner, no matter how much it destroys her soul.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pull her against me, and let her sob for the years of torment and neglect she’s suffered. When she’s feeling better, she requests a glass of water, which I retrieve for her from a pitcher that rests on her dresser. I kiss her on the cheek and leave, then I debate whether or not I should return to the library when Caster comes up behind me.
“Is she all right?” he asks.
“No,” I answer. “Can you do me a favor?”
“I’ll go pack my bags and head out,” he says, knowing what I’m going to request. “I’ll protect them at all costs.”
“Thank you, brother,” I say, clapping him on the back.
He departs as I head further down the hallway to my room where I find Moyra fast asleep in our bed. I disrobe, slide in beside her, and try to get some rest.
The following morning my sleep is disturbed by a banging against the bedchamber door. Moyra rouses me as she’s afraid of who it might be. After putting on my robe I go to the door and prop it open slightly, my gaze falling on a disheveled maid on the other side.
“The king,” she stammers. “He’s requesting you immediately.”
“Where is he?”
“In your mother’s room,” she says, pointing down the hall.
My heart falls as I race towards her bedchamber, the door standing wide open and my father crumpled on his knees beside her bed as one of her arms dangles over the side of the mattress. Her skin is white and cold to the touch, while her eyes loom wide open as if fixed on a point in the colorful canopy over her bed. On the nightstand beside her is the glass of water I poured for her the night before and a small, empty, glass jar. I pick it up and take a whiff, detecting a hint of bitter almonds.
“Cyanide,” my father mumbles from the floor. “She drank the whole bottle.”
“When?” I ask, choking on tears as they flood my eyes.
“Sometime during the night.”
I throw the bottle across the room and begin beating my father. “This is all your fault!” I holler as I punch him in the head. “You did this to her! If it wasn’t for you, she’d still be alive!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he replies, shoving me off. “How are the people going to handle her passing? They loved her, which is another reason why I went through with the marriage.”
“Is that really all you’re concerned with, or are you more petrified about how the people will perceive you now that she isn’t around to cover up your crimes?”
Gregor jumps to his feet and hits me across the jaw. “That’s enough out of you,” he hisses. “I’m still king and you will treat me as such.”
“You won’t be ruling for long,” I say as I massage my sore mouth.
“That’s now changed,” he says, seething. “With the queen gone there isn’t any possible way I can transfer power over to you. There needs to be a strong leader in place during these trying times, and it most certainly isn’t you. Now go fetch the maid so I can rid my eyes of this body and don’t forget to relieve her of the medallion. I’ll be damned if I’m going to permit her to be buried with it.”
He stomps away, leaving me to mourn alone.
Over the next several days, black bunting is hung from every bridge, shop, home, and turret of the castle, as well as the town to the north and the village to the south. When my father enquires about the medallion, I simply tell him she wasn’t wearing it, and that perhaps she disposed of it before taking her life. Surprisingly, he accepts my answer without further questions. My mother is buried with the rest of our family in a mausoleum at the far edge of the property while every painting done of her is removed and burned in a brush pile by the stables. I manage to save one of the pictures of her and me, which was commissioned only a year ago, and hide it in the attic of the tallest tower where all forgotten things eventually wind up.
Moyra is upset about not becoming queen as quickly as she was promised and rips into me about it almost every day. I have to use tremendous strength and self-control not to slice her throat. She berates me every chance she gets and has even threatened to end the pregnancy if I don’t get my father to reconsider. I assure her this will pass, and that once the kingdom is done mourning, he’ll bestow the throne onto the two of us. She grumbles, but it’s enough to pacify her for the time being.
Caster kept his promise and left the night of the wedding, but I wish he’d send word about how Elizabeth is doing. I know he can’t since it’d be too dangerous, so I pretend they’re doing well and that she’s happy, which only causes me more heartache and pain.
My son, Lycus, is born seven months later. He’s the spitting image of his mother. The only thing he inherited from me are my brown eyes. His arrival means that Elizabeth has also borne our child by now and I wonder constantly if it’s a boy or a girl, and if she and the baby are doing well. A month later Moyra is out visiting friends in the countryside with the baby while my father takes care of business in the valley along the southern rim of the kingdom, leaving me alone in the castle. I sit in the library in front of the roaring fire sipping some brandy when I hear scuffing behind me. I hold the tumbler firmly in my hand as I continue to watch the flames dance before me.
“I knew you’d come,” I say to my visitor.
“How?” the deep voice asks. Heavy breathing tickling my neck.
“You’ve been disappearing for weeks at a time. We both knew why, Gregor and I that is. What did you discover?”
“She had another child,” Kerron responds, still standing beside me. “A girl who would’ve turned twenty this past year.”
“How’d you find out?”
“I tortured my mother’s owner until he divulged the truth to me,” Kerron replies. “He was the child’s father, but my mother refused to get rid of it, so when the girl was born she was taken away and raised in the valley away from all of this madness of life where my mother was raised, and where I would’ve been if Gregor hadn’t bought my freedom from her. The old man said it was the one good thing he’d ever done in his life. Those were his last words as well.”
“What happened to the girl after that?” I ask, sipping my drink and continuing to stare at the fire.
“I found the family who raised her,” he says, finally coming into view and taking a seat in the high-backed chair beside mine. “They were farmers with several other children, but they raised her as if she was one of their own. She was taught how to hunt, fish, use a bow and arrow, and handle a knife. The family was fond of her, but lost track of her one day when a young gentleman came calling. He’d been sent by the king to inspect the land. The family said she fell in love with the young man instantly, then foolishly disappeared the same night he was to return to Longemere. They haven’t seen her since.”
“When was that?” I ask as calmly as possible.
“A little over a year ago,” he replies.
“Did they tell you her name?” I ask, this time looking over at Kerron.
His eyes focus on me, rage filling their irises. “Yes,” he says. “Her name was Elizabeth.”
“That chance meeting in the valley wasn’t the first time we’d met,” I say, twirling the now empty glass in my hand as I stare into its abyss. “I first saw her in the village by the edge of the forest. We were only children then, but I knew I wanted to be with her and she with me. I’d leave the castle as often as I could to find her. She’d sneak away from the farm and the two of us would talk for hours. The day I came to the valley to inspect the land was the day we decided to be together forever, so she left with me that night.” I raise my eyes to stare into Kerron’s. “Are you going to kill me now, brother?” I ask.
“Did you truly love
her, David?” he asks, which surprises me.
“With all my heart,” I answer truthfully.
“Is she really dead or are you as treacherous as our father?”
“Does it matter?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond, which tells me everything.
“I never wanted the throne,” I begin babbling since I don’t know what else to say or do at the moment. “Gregor forced my hand, like he does to everyone in order to get his way. I had to do what I felt was best to ensure the safety of those I cared about. If you believe that was Elizabeth’s body in the hut, then it was. If you don’t, then it wasn’t. I’m not going to allow my failures as a son or a brother to hinder the rightful heir to this nightmare. The kingdom is yours if you still want it.”
“And all I have to do is kill you for it, correct?”
“Answer this for me: why did you take a sudden interest in locating this girl months after knowing she might exist? I thought you would’ve done so right away.”
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out the truth or not,” he says.
“What changed your mind?”
“You did, actually,” he replies with disdain. “Seeing the pain in your eyes as Moyra grew larger with your son and knowing there could’ve been another child brought into this world that wasn’t a part of her contemptuous soul broke you. The not knowing is what drove me over the edge. I needed answers to the questions that had long been lingering in my mind.”
“Do they satisfy you?”
“No,” he says, growing sad. “As I feel they’re unanswered.”
“How so?” I ask, standing to refill my glass and handing him one as well.
“Where has Caster been all this time?” he asks, which is a question I’ve been waiting to answer for months. “It’s unlike your baronet to be away for so long, especially when a new prince has been born into the royal family he serves.”
“He left the kingdom shortly after the wedding,” I reply. “He didn’t care for how I was obeying my father, when he knew my heart was elsewhere. As he’s not technically bound by law to remain in Geron he fled at the first opportunity.”