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SHE STOOD WITH HER back to the rest of the room, even though it was filling with her subjects, a sign that she wasn’t in the mood to socialize. They would know better than to approach her. Facing the massive floor-to-ceiling widows of the royal counsel chamber, she observed the reflection staring back at her. Her fancy ballgown-type dress clung nicely to her breasts and mid-section, then flared out into a huge trailing train. The dusty-blue material and million rhinestones that glittered in the light were lost in the dark reflection, making her dress seem dull and lifeless. Her once flaming-red hair, bundled tightly now atop her head, looked brown and mousey, and her face no longer held the softness of youth. Was this what she would really look like without the glamor that constantly surrounded her? She wouldn’t know. It’d been close to a thousand years now- her rein- and nearly three hundred since she’d lost both her daughters.
She felt something wet squeeze itself, unwanted, out of the corner of her eye. As if reminding her that she was being soft and sentimental, two things a queen had no right being, she took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. The intruder froze half-way down her cheek, and she flicked it off with a brush of her hand. This was a business for the strong. One sign of weakness and her council would devour her and spit her out so fast she wouldn’t have time to blink. She couldn’t let that happen, not until her rightful heir was back where she belonged. But she was so tired. The weight of that revelation pressed down on her shoulders.
“Your Majesty, the crowds are gathering. Won’t you come sit?” She turned at the sound of her dearest advisor and Captain of the Queen’s Guard.
“Yes, Ardghal, I’ll sit.” She took his offered hand as he led her toward her throne. Long ago, she’d ordered the two chairs that graced each side of it be removed, so she wouldn’t have a constant reminder of what she’d lost. She looked away now. It was no use. After all this time, the ache in her heart, the loneliness, the guilt, it all still remained.
“Should we reschedule the meeting, Majesty?” Ardghal whispered. He knew her so well.
She did give a small smile then, and a light pat to his arm as she linked hers though his. “How I love you, Nephew.” She meant it as a term of endearment. “What is that they say in the human realm? The show must go on.”
He cupped her hand in his for a brief moment, gave it a squeeze, and said, “Yes, my Queen, you are quite right. The show must go on.”
Just as she reached her seat, the doors to the Royal Council Chamber burst open, and Lunn swept in. She gave a quiet huff, and the tightening of Ardghal’s arm linked through hers let her know he felt the same way about the council member. Nuala, her dearest confidant, materialized in front of her and swept gracefully into a low curtsey.
“My Queen.” Her voice was calming, like the waters trickling gently over a pebbled creek bed. Soothing.
“Nuala, my dear friend, I’m so glad you were able to make it.” Nuala’s sparkling amber eyes found her own.
“You know I wouldn’t miss this.” One look into her eyes, and the queen knew her oldest friend was telling the truth. Nuala wasn’t just her friend, she was her seer, and one of the oldest Fae on the council. She might even be the oldest, no one really knew for sure her exact age. It was something Nuala kept well-guarded.
She rearranged her dress and took her seat. Might as well get comfortable, sometimes these council meetings took hours. She let out a tiny sigh before she thought better of it, and almost instantly felt Nuala’s firm hand on her shoulder and the warmth of her friend’s squeeze rushed through her, calming her again.
A few hours later, the last of the civil disputes had all been heard, and the council’s agenda was winding down. As was custom, the queen asked her final question of the meeting.
“Are there any more matters of law to attend to this day?”
On a normal day, none would dare to speak up, knowing when the queen asked this it meant she was done for the day, but as she watched the man in a black cloak, trimmed in silver with tiny silver leaflets embroidered throughout, stand, her heart sank. So, the words of Nuala would come to pass. It didn’t help that she’d had prior warning to what he was about to say, her stomach lurched, and she pressed her lips together tightly. It would not due for her to lose her temper in this pivotal moment, then he would have the upper hand. Something she was sure was part of his snaky plan. The amount of air she sucked into her lungs burned so bad her eyes watered, but she nodded her approval for him to proceed anyway.
“Royal Council Members, I wish to address the matter of succession.” He started.
The gasps in the room did nothing to quite him, and the queen herself could not.
He proceeded with a smirk. “Gentle Fae, I know it is a distasteful business, but need I remind you we have no heir. Perhaps...” He paused his speech to send her a sorrowful look.
Liar. He wasn’t sorry one bit. This was what he wanted. This was his chance to rule.
“How unfortunate it is that Her Royal Majesty has lost not one daughter, but two.” He hung his head, playing to the crowd, and her eyes narrowed with hatred. “Perhaps it is time to place another Royal line upon the throne. Perhaps it is time for this dynasty to end, for the good of the people.”
Several claps followed him as he proceeded to stand and nod to the crowd, but there were some who snapped their fingers, the sign of disapproval, and many with frosty looks upon their faces.
She stood up and raised her arms, signaling her people to quiet down. Glad that Nuala had foreseen Lunn’s traitorous act, and she was ready to confront him with words of wisdom and not just a heated reaction to his treason. She watched in disgust as he moved to the front of the room and took a spot beside her.
“My people, though Lunn’s words do hold some truth, they are not the full truth, and well it is known. One of my daughters, lives. Her body lies shrouded in magic until the day she returns to us. I have hopes that will be soon.”
With a flick of her wrist, the sprawling blue-velvet curtain swept aside to reveal a glass room. She couldn’t bear to look. She knew what that room held. The body of her daughter laid out as in deep slumber with her beautiful red hair cascading down the side of the table on which she rested. Only, she wasn’t resting. Her body was lifeless, the magic the only thing keeping it alive. Her soul was lost to them. Audible gasps in the room, fueled the queen on.
“It is also true that I have reigned for many seasons, but I have been a just queen. I have been fair to my people, and our land has thrived, our people have prospered. The rules of dynasty replacement were written to end corruption and tyranny. My rule has given you none of those, but as the topic has been broached, we will put it to a vote. Those of you who feel a Trial of Dynasty should be invoked, please raise your hands.”
She quickly counted the small handful of hands, as she knew Ardghal and Nuala were counting behind her. The three of them must have the same number or a revote would be called. She pushed it to the back of her mind.
“Those of you who do not want the Trial of Dynasty, if you will, a show of hands.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding as more than half of the room voted to her benefit, against the trials. For now, at least, Lunn’s scheming was deterred. There was no doubt in her mind, that she needed to find her daughter and do it quickly. She exchanged a look with Nuala, and knew she wasn’t the only one thinking it.
“The people have voted; no Trial by Dynasty will take place. Thank you, Lunn, for your concern.”
He leaned in close to her face, close enough so that no one else could hear his threat. “I will find a way. You’ve only held me a bay momentarily, my dear. Rest assured, there are more things up my sleeve.”
Instead of retreating, she leaned closer to him. A breath away.
“Do not address me so informal, my lord, or I will have you thrown in the dungeon, as is my right.”
“Do it. How many people will vote for you then, Majesty?” His words came out as a sneer, and spittle flew from his mouth through his angry hiss. He swept his arm out dramatically, one edge of his cloak in hand, and bowed before her, but the sneer remained.
She didn’t rise to the bait, she couldn’t. She spun around to face her people, “The council meeting is adjourned. You are all dismissed. Thank you for your patience.” No sooner had she finished than Ardghal and his guards were sweeping her away from the room and out the back door away from Lunn and away from the prying eyes of the crowd that had swarmed around them at her closing words.