Queen Victoria: Demon Hunter

by A. E. Moorat

  In the weeks leading up to the visit, those around Victoria noticed a change in her temperament; she was sharp and impatient, not only with her staff but also with her ministers. She knew she was this way, but chose not to admit the reason why, which was, simply, this: butterflies. Nerves that increased with each passing week, day and hour as she awaited confirmation of her guests' expected arrival time.

  Thus, on this particular day, with the added worry of the smashed palace windows, she found herself in rather dark humour during the walk with Baroness Lehzen, and may have been less than courteous to the unfortunate page who approached her on the Palace perimeter path, bowing quickly before her companion, then doing the same to Victoria, though more deeply, and passing her a letter bearing the seal of her uncle, King Leopold of Belgium.

  The very news she had been waiting for.

  He was excused before Victoria prised open the letter, in her heart knowing its contents already.

  'It is just as I expected, Lehzen,' she told the Baroness, 'they are to arrive imminently.'

  The baroness, who, in private, did not especially approve of the liaison, smiled thinly.

  'When, Your Majesty?' she said.

  Victoria looked at her. 'Tonight,' she said. 'They are coming here tonight, Lehzen.'

  As they continued their walk, she looked upwards, to the windows of the palace, those of her mother's apartments.

  There, watching her, stood her mother, the Duchess; even from the distance her expression of maternal reproach was clearly visible.

  Next to her mother stood Conroy, staring down at her, eyes black, his expression indecipherable.

  XII

  Victoria would never forget the moment that she fell in love. She would never forget where she was, what she was wearing and how she felt-a honeyed sensation quite unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

  'Your Majesty,' came the booming announcement. She swallowed and smoothed her dress, standing on the steps of Buckingham Palace waiting to receive her guests with Lehzen at her side. 'Their serene highnesses, Ernest, Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha.'

  The sound of their footsteps preceded them. She remembered to raise her head and point her chin in a queenly manner, while trying desperately to quell the butterflies in her stomach.

  And there he was.

  Suddenly she found herself completely overcome. For a moment she even thought she might have to reach out and grasp the Baroness for support in order to prevent herself from sinking to her knees on the steps.

  Because he was beautiful. As he climbed the steps, resplendent in his uniform, wearing red leather-top boots and with his sword at his hip, she drank in every detail of him: his striking blue eyes; his physique-the last time they had met, she had thought of him as being somewhat portly. Now, though, he boasted broad shoulders and a fine, tapered waist-the sight of him quite taking her breath away; his moustache so delicate, his mouth so pretty, his nose exquisite...

  Victoria remained outwardly composed, the only sign that betrayed the sudden high emotion she felt was when she turned her head slightly to address the Baroness: 'Why, Lehzen, my heart is quite going.'

  Ernest came forward first, dropping to one knee, and kissing her proffered hand. Then it was Albert. His boots creaked as he knelt to the stone. Their eyes met and his gaze melted her heart.

  'Your Majesty,' he said.

  And that was it. That was the moment.

  'Oh, Lehzen, do you think he will love me too!' she said later, in her chambers, as the Baroness prepared her for the evening's dinner.

  'I'm sure he will, Your Majesty,' said the Baroness, somewhat more curtly than was necessary, and Victoria shot her an admonishing look before continuing her expressions of joy.

  'Then we must make sure of it,' she said, 'I shall be sure to look so entirely fetching that he won't be able to resist me, and he'll twirl me around the hall.' With this she did a demonstration of exactly what she meant, clasping an imaginary Albert to her bosom.

  So, to say it was something of a disappointment when Albert failed to appear for dinner was to commit the sin of understatement. The two boys had arrived having crossed the Channel in a paddle steamer. Their trunks had not yet been delivered to the Palace and so it was that they sent a messenger to say they felt 'incorrectly attired to attend a dinner'. Lord Melbourne had a word or two to say about that, she noticed, yet they did indeed grace them with their presence after dinner when Victoria was first able to waltz with Albert, who held himself so well and was in no way a disappointment.

  Later in the visit she discovered that not only had he acquired a liking for Byron, but that he played piano as well as he danced, and she listened to him playing Haydn symphonies. They chased one another in the great maze at Windsor. They went riding together and sheltered beneath a tree when it rained, giggling as they became soaked. They walked and talked and for the first time in her life she felt as though she was conversing with someone who understood her totally. Who addressed her as though she were an equal, without subservience or obsequiousness or servility. He spoke so eloquently of reform, and the ways in which the monarchy might be instrumental in helping the common man through improvements in housing. He had such an earnest, soulful way about him. He would place his hands very carefully in his lap and hold her gaze as he talked with great passion and intellect.

  'What does housing have to do with the Queen, Albert?' she asked him, half-teasing him, but wanting to see more of that reforming zeal.

  'Well,' he said, in the measured, Germanic tones she had grown to adore, 'if you forgive me the impertinence,' she nodded, smiling, 'but in my view it is the obligation of the monarch to give a voice to the underdog, the disaffected, the working man, because if he-or she-does not, then who will?'

  'Well, quite,' she agreed.

  'In England, the industry is changing and workers are moving to escape the dreadful conditions in the countryside,' she nodded again, no longer teasing; instead, fascinated, 'and they are moving to the towns, but there they are finding that conditions are as bad if not worse because nobody is building them the places to live...'

  He tailed off.

  'Yes?' she prompted.

  'Your Majesty,' he said.

  'Please, Albert, you can call me Victoria.'

  'Thank you,' he nodded slightly. 'Victoria, we must build these people places to live, or they will continue to live in squalor. If they live this way, and we live...' he indicated the grounds of the Palace, 'this way, then soon, perhaps, it will be more than a couple of stones that are thrown at the windows of the palace.'

  Yes, she had used to think him a stuffy bones, but she was just a girl then. Now she was a woman, a Queen. 'I will be good,' she had promised, a long, long time ago. And if perhaps she was too young and inexperienced to be as good as she would sometimes like, here was someone who could help her: a good man. 'I will be good,' she thought. I can be good with you by my side.

  Victoria would always remember the moment she decided she would ask Albert to be her consort. Her companion for life. Her one true love. It was that moment.

  XIII

  A safe house, London

  'Prince Albert is in place,' said the demon, the one known to the dark kingdom as Forse, the descendant of Baal, 'this is excellent.'

  To humans he was known as King Leopold I, the king of Belgium.

  Forse sat at the head of the table, before him a small saucer on which were the last vestiges of his favoured snack of fishbones.

  He enjoyed them fried and crispy; it gave them a tremendous texture, he thought, scooping up a handful and throwing them to the back of his throat.

  Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  As he ate, his teeth seemed to move, subtly shifting into points; his whole face, in fact, morphed and changed, rippling, so that it looked like an optical effect: his human self in one moment; the next, his true self. By his side sat Baron Stockmar, a mortal who had been his faithful servant for some te
n years now; even so, Stockmar was still fascinated to see the inhuman that lay so close to the surface of the being most knew simply as Leopold-genial, benevolent King Leopold, the head of the house of Saxe-Coburg. Who was, in fact, the leader of the most powerful demonic clan still on Earth's plane: the descendant of Baal, he who had been instructed by the dark one to remain on earth and spread evil.

  Over the centuries the great demon's scions had done just that, gradually inveigling themselves into Europe's Royal families.

  'I'm sorry, Stockmar, does it bother you to gaze upon my real self?' he said, ever mindful of the mortal's feelings. Stockmar was used to it, of course, but even so. Mortals were not meant to look upon demons. It drove them mad.

  'It is quite all right, my Lord,' Stockmar reassured him.

  'It hurts to maintain this human face, Stockmar,' complained Leopold, chewing, then removing something from his teeth and placing it in the saucer. 'I envy the half-breeds. They have no such problem. No need to indulge appetites,' he indicated the saucer of fishbones, 'they can simply move about among humans. Their face is their own.'

  'They have other problems, my Lord,' warned the Baron.

  'That they are half human,' chuckled Leopold, relaxing into his own face for a second, so that Stockmar was able to behold it in full: the sallow, grey hide, the red glinting eyes, hooked nose, sharp pointed teeth. 'But humans are so easily corrupted, Baron-you yourself are proof of that, and your blood is mortal. And Conroy, too, of course, whose conversion is so complete he becomes something of a worry to us.'

  'Not all humans though, perhaps,' warned the Baron, 'not even all half-breeds. There is, after all, a significant question mark regarding the Prince-and whether he is able to face his destiny.'

  'His destiny is to provide a male heir to the throne, that is all,' said Leopold, 'one who carries the bloodline of Baal. As long as he can do that his inner conflict must remain his own predicament.'

  'As long as it does,' said Stockmar.

  'Time will tell,' replied Leopold.

  At that moment the door to the chamber opened admitting two more, who came into the room and took their seats: the Duchess of Kent, mother to the Queen, sister to Leopold, once a powerful demon like her brother but now much reduced and reliant upon her comptroller, the other new entrant into the room, Sir John Conroy.

  Arrogant human. Leopold couldn't stand him.

  'I hear that things are going well concerning the Royal romance,' said Leopold, after greetings had been made.

  Conroy answered for the Duchess. 'The Royal lovebirds are getting on famously,' he said. 'Victoria's diaries are full of amorous sentiments regarding the Prince. He has her in his thrall.'

  'Good, very good,' nodded Leopold. 'When might we expect a proposal?'

  'Sooner rather than later,' said Conroy, smiling, 'for it is surely her intention to do so. The only barrier might be...'

  'Melbourne?'

  'Quite.'

  Conroy recoiled a little, as Leopold in his displeasure took his demon form for a second, but thrilling to the sight also.

  'Does Melbourne suspect?' asked Leopold.

  'If Melbourne suspects anything, then it is that I am the inhuman at court,' said Conroy. 'An admirable piece of misdirection, I'm sure you'll agree.'

  'Not really,' scowled Stockmar. There was no love lost between the two mortal servants. 'The admirable course of action would have resulted in the Protektorate suspecting nothing. It was your woefully mishandled attempts to gain influence that alerted them to our presence in their midst.'

  'We judged it best not to wait,' said Conroy, 'the Duchess and I. We saw an opportunity.'

  The Duchess nodded, and was about to speak in support of the comptroller when Leopold snapped, 'You judged it best not to wait, Conroy. You did. We have waited centuries. You prove vexatious to me, Conroy. First that; then the affair involving Hastings. On which note: you've taken care of her, but there is a leak, is there not? This stable boy.'

  'Yes, my Lord...'

  'And you have not been able to resolve it, though months have passed, and this creates a situation that requires my intervention.' Leopold shook with rage. 'And this displeases me. Do not disobey me again, Conroy.'

  He became Forse, glowering at Conroy, who swallowed, but said nothing.

  Leopold resolved into his human self.

  'I hope for your sake,' he said, 'that Victoria soon makes her proposal.'

  When Conroy and the Duchess had left, Stockmar turned to Leopold.

  'Conroy is a problem to us,' he said starkly. 'He is too impulsive and too greedy.'

  'Yes,' agreed Leopold nodding gravely, 'indeed. Conroy wants to hold the torch that burns humanity, and that worries me. He does not understand the true nature of evil, which is that it is insidious and must be allowed to grow slowly, for only then can it triumph.'

  XIV

  The next day

  Victoria stood in a corridor overlooking a courtyard, which rang to the sound of hooves on cobblestones as Albert and his brother returned from their morning ride. Stable hands rushed to meet them, wiping hands on aprons, reaching to take the reins. Instinctively she stepped back from the glass as Albert glanced up to the surrounding walls, even though he did not look in her direction. Then she drew forward again as the page she had summoned approached Albert.

  Her hand went to her mouth, where she felt it shake slightly, so that she took it away again and clasped it with the other in front of her, chewing her lip instead.

  She wanted to see Albert's face when the page passed on the message.

  She watched, carefully as Albert bent forward in the saddle to hear the page. She did not hear, but knew what was being said: 'Her Majesty would like to see you in the Blue Closet, sir.'

  Seated in the horse beside him, Ernest heard too, and as Albert straightened the two of them shared a look.

  There was nothing on his face to betray an emotion either way, even though it should be perfectly obvious why the Queen wanted to see him-in the Blue Closet, no less-that she was to request his hand; he was this close to beginning life as the consort to the most powerful woman in the world. This close. And how did he react? Nothing. Nichts.

  Curse him, she thought. Curse his German reserve!

  Frustrated, she picked up her skirts and hurried down the corridor, the Duchess of Sutherland and Lehzen scuttling in her wake.

  'I am to wear my heart on my sleeve,' she snapped back over her shoulder, 'am I to be given no indication how he will meet my proposal?'

  'He will say yes, ma'am,' replied Lehzen, a touch of ice in her voice. 'What else would he say?'

  Victoria stopped suddenly, her skirts swishing on the polished boards as she whirled to address the Baroness, doing so at a speed that surprised them all, not least herself. 'Lehzen,' she snapped, 'you have been too long at court, for your heart has become like the stone that surrounds us. Of course Albert will say yes. He will say yes because that is what I desire him to do. However, there is one thing I want more with all my heart.'

  'And what is that, ma'am?'

  'For him to mean it, Lehzen.'

  She whirled to face front, picked up her skirts and strode off. Behind her, the two women exchanged a look then hurried on.

  Moments later, Victoria stood in the room, gathering herself, waiting for the knock, which, when it came, made her jump slightly.

  She cleared her throat, 'Come,' she said, her voice sounding small, engulfed by the wood panelling in the room. She had had it prepared, the curtains partly closed. A fire crackled in the hearth and she stood near to it, in order that she should look prettier bathed in its orange glow.

  The door opened and Albert entered, turned to close the door behind him, bowed slightly, then walked to the middle of the room where he stood, face impassive, still betraying nothing!

  'Your Majesty,' he said in greeting.

  'Victoria, Albert. You're to call me Victoria. Whatever...happens.'

  His eyes flickered. If he had harbo
ured any doubts on his journey to the room then surely now they were laid to rest.

  'You no doubt know which issue I have asked you here to discuss,' she said.

  He said nothing. She allowed the silence to build until at last he nodded his head slowly.

  'Well, of course,' she continued, 'all of court is abuzz. Indeed I shouldn't wonder that if I were to open that door now, the entire staff would tumble into the room, my mother among them.'

  Albert smiled thinly.

  She continued: 'You realise of course, that as a monarch, it is I who has to make any marriage proposal, should marriage be my intent.'

  'I am aware of this custom,' said Albert, flatly.

  'Good. We two, more than any other, know of the pressures brought upon us to enter into marriage together. There are those who wish to see us married, just as there are those who would prefer it if our two houses were never joined.'

  Albert nodded.

  'But it is my belief that only two people enter into a marriage and therefore they are the two best qualified to decide upon the suitability of the union.' She took a deep breath. 'Albert, we both know that if I were to make a marriage proposal you would have no choice in the matter but to accede to it. To do otherwise would be to cause me great embarrassment and incur the wrath of Uncle Leopold, causing great damage to the two nations.'

  Again, Albert nodded. Now, though, she could see the first signs of uncertainty in his eyes.

  'So, dear Albert, I have decided to spare us both the indignity of such a situation. I do not want to put you in a position where you feel it is your duty to give your assent to a union your heart does not desire. Therefore, there will be no marriage proposal.'

  Albert and Victoria looked at one another. She noticed his hand on the hilt of his sword. Was it shaking slightly?

  'Then...' said Albert, his voice low, 'this is a situation that causes me great sorrow. For my heart...'

  'Yes, Albert?'

  He looked at her, looked deep into her eyes. 'My heart wishes more than anything to be with yours. My heart has wished for nothing more since the moment I arrived to see that the Princess I met three years ago has in the meantime become a Queen, and a woman. A woman with whom I have fallen deeply and unashamedly in love, in a way that has nothing to do with our two countries, or duty. However,' and here he bowed once more, 'I do of course understand your decision and will honour it.'