Chapter Text
“은서야.”
“엄마.”
“은서야.”
“제발 가지 않아요. 나를 혼자 두지 마세요.”
“내 작은 공주.”
“엄마.”
“공주.”
“엄마.”
“-공주-”
***
“—Princess. Yerenika.”
Yerenika’s eyes opened abruptly and she squinted her eyes at the sight of a yellow candlelight close to her face.
“What…?” She sat up slowly upon seeing Sergey in her room. What on earth? “Sergey? What are you doing here?” she whispered to him, her eyes blinking slowly to wash the sleep away. Yerenika heard him step away from her bedside and rummage through something but she was too sleepy and exhausted to watch him.
“Yerenika.” Sergey was once again by her bedside and this time her eyes were fine enough to see him in his night clothes and holding up one of her wraps. “Come.”
Flabbergasted at the situation, Yerenika could only scrunch her brows in confusion and remove herself from her bed and let Sergey wrap the silk and cotton cloth around her upper body. Closer now, she could see the grimness and nervousness marring his face, and Yerenika could feel some form of dread crawling to her at the sight.
“Ser?” her whisper was now lower than what it had been earlier as she used her friend’s childhood nickname. Sergey’s green eyes moved to her and she felt her lips and throat dry at the anxiety and trembling one could easily see. “Ser, please. What’s going on?” she asked, taking one of his hands on hers as the other gripped on her wrap tightly to her chest.
Sergey opened his mouth but must have changed his mind as he closed it with his eyes and shook his head. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
“Come with me.”
Gently, Sergey took her hand and Yerenika let herself be dragged from the room, her silk slippers tapping on the marble floors softly, a sharp contrast to the hurried clatter of Sergey’s boots. Yerenika’s eyes were on the back of Sergey’s head as his hand held her smaller and colder one, his other hand holding the lamp that guided their way.
Her blue eyes scanned their surroundings. It was then that she noticed a small number of servants (fewer than the ones she chose to keep during the plague) loitering in the halls of the floor, lighting candles and carrying sheets and food. For a moment, Yerenika feared the worst.
Has the Palace been infected once again?
And her thoughts only worsened.
Has Bellecourt decided to attack?
Her breathing fell short and Sergey turned his head to her. It was then that she noticed her hold to him had grown strong. He slowed his steps but didn’t stop.
“Listen to me, Yerenika.” He said lowly, eyes scanning the servants and guards in the hall. It was then that Yerenika realized they were aiming for the end of the hallway. Her father’s bedroom. “No matter what happens, never waver.”
“What—?”
A set of steps were behind them and she gripped Sergey’s sleeves tightly at the sight of the Archbishop of Livne. The sight of the rushing and pale old man sent a chill down Yerenika's spine and she stopped her feet, forcing Sergey to stop alongside her.
“No.” she shook her head, panic lacing her tone. “No, it can’t be.”
“Yerenika.”
“Please, oh Laurus, no.”
Her body trembled, as though she was left in the cold and rain without a single ounce of protection. The anxiety, fear, and horror enveloped her all at once and she suddenly did not know how her body was moving or reacting to anything. Everything was blank yet everything was seen.
The King. Her Father.
Has he passed? She couldn’t breathe.
Another stampede of footsteps but she didn’t look, she couldn’t . If she sees the members of her father’s privy council, then it was confirmation of what she had thought it to be. However, before she knew it, she was now standing before the curtained bed of her father and she could see how pale and gray the elderly man was.
Her lips trembled. “Father.” Her legs collapsed on the side of his bed and both her hands grasped for his right.
The King weakly opened his eyes, as if they weighed a stone, and the weakened orbs scanned lightly before falling upon her.
“My Yeni.” Her father gasped, and for a moment, Yerenika felt a twinge of guilt.
I’m not Yerenika. Not the real one.
But she kept quiet and instead kissed the pale hand. “I’m here, Father.”
Let this man die in the knowledge and comfort that he was not alone and surrounded by politicians. Let him die with the thought and knowledge that his daughter was here with him.
“I’m here.” She repeated her words, muffled by the wrinkled and cold hands against her lips.
There were urgent and rushed whispers behind her, begging her to let go in fear that she may catch his ailments but she did not care. The doctor was close, checking the King’s pulse and stating that if in an hour, the King makes it to sunrise, he would live. There were several other voices in the room telling her many things but none of them truly reached her. This man needed his daughter, and she was once again witnessing the passage of another father. The realization and thought of it only burdened her further and her grip on the small hand strengthened.
“Sweet child.” The king rasped, “My lovely Yeni…”
“Yes, Father. I’m here.” She moved her body to kiss the sweating forehead, red hair sticking against the moist skin and her lips. “You’ll be fine, Father. You’ll be alright.”
But it would seem that her father’s sight was wavering, blurred as he tried to once again locate her image and she bit her lips, resisting the urge to wail.
I must hold on. He mustn’t hear me weep. But it was oh-so difficult as her throat clogged up and it felt like a stone was placed on her chest. And if anything, he might survive the night.
Dawn was approaching in an hour or so, and Yerenika could only hold on both her strength and his grip.
“I’m… so… sorry.” The king said between his breaths, “Everything… this… all of… it… my fault… my fault.” He finished, looking up at the green canopy of his bed.
Yerenika did not know what to say, what to reply. Was she to lie to a dying man out of sheer comfort? Everyone, even her, thought the same thing. Everything, all the disaster that had transpired in a matter of a decade, was solely on the greedy actions of the dying king. Yerenika closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his chin.
There was a cool, yet warm, feeling wrapping around her and her breathing was returned to her. Through her moistened eyes, which tried to contain all the begging tears, she could see a faint glimmer of blue. Something she knew after weeks of seeing it from the men of the temple, from Brigitte, from the King of Bellecourt, from Euredian.
The swirling blue and white mist enveloped both her and her father and she knew what it was trying to do.
What he was trying to do.
Giving them both more time.
“Papa,” she begged desperately, “don’t leave me. Don’t leave me all alone. Please. Please don’t go.” She kissed his wet cheeks covered in sweat. She didn’t care about the salt against her lips or the eyes of the highest-ranking nobility or what they thought of their princess. She didn’t care if she was the princess regent of a small country that needed her, or if she was the saint or queen of the world. Right now, she was a daughter who didn’t want to be left all alone once again.
“Ser… gey…” the King called and her friend approached the other side of the king.
“Your Majesty.” Sergey Levan responded solemnly. “I am at your service.”
“Yen… Brig, itte… watch… care for… them.” The king said, reaching out to the boy he had watched to become a man. Sergey reached out and held the king’s other hand and placed his forehead upon it, body bending lower than ever to the King.
“I will. You have my word, Your Majesty.”
Yerenika watched through blurry eyes as Sergey stepped back and nodded to the Archbishop who then stepped forward. Yerenika tried to shake her head, as if she would make it a crime for the old and familiar man but the Archbishop could only bow his head solemnly at both her and her father as he read the scripture.
“Life was granted to us by the gods, and we have lived in prosperity as Laurus has willed…”
Yerenika drowned out the sacred texts and the eyes of the nobility. She dug her face into the odorous and drenched neck of her father, focusing on nothing but the vanishing warmth of his little body.
The sun dawned and a new queen was proclaimed in the Palace of Livovny.
***
Yerenika watched silently as the priests and her father’s valet washed and clothed her father. Her eyes were stinging and swollen from crying, her throat sore and her lips dry, but still, she focused on the procedure of preparing the funeral of a King.
“Your High,” beside her, Sergey began with a small whisper, but he stopped and cleared his throat. “Your Majesty.”
Your Majesty. Yerenika closed her eyes. I’m Queen now.
She never thought this would happen to her. An orphaned nobody who worked at cafes and convenience stores who died from a bus accident, entering the world of a tale inside her phone and becoming a queen after several changes in the story.
“Your Majesty,” Sergey continued to call and catch her attention. Though she did listen to him, she did not move an inch from the chair by the fireplace that had once belonged to a Mother she did not fully know. “The Lord Chamberlain and Privy Council are waiting for you in the sitting room. The King of Bellecourt and some of his noble delegation are waiting for you. As are the Archbishop of Livne and Varyshad.”
Yerenika hummed with a nod as she closed her eyes. “I understand, Ser. I will meet with them momentarily, but I ask that you only give me a moment. I will see them shortly, I promise.”
Sergey seemed to be hesitant, and Yerenika would have thought that her friend would think she would do something to herself, but nevertheless, her Prime Minister nodded, bowed, and left the room, never facing his back to her. She was Queen now, and one must never turn their back to her. That was the same manner her father’s valet and the priests followed once done. Bowing their heads and stepping backwards, forbidden to show her their backs.
But a monarch can turn their back on them. She turned her eyes to her still and cold father, who was now being clothed in black. A monarch can do whatever he likes.
Yerenika folded her wrap and stood, stepping closer to the dead man on the bed, his hands on his stomach and his staff of office held between those cold hands.
“But I won’t be like you.” She said to the air, knowing that the man she had called ‘father’ was gone and no longer would be able to hear her. “I swear, I won’t be like you.” She said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing a hand on his cold ones.
“I may have been here for a year only, but I can tell you were a kind and loving father. You missed your daughter, you waged a war for Theresia. You stopped living when your wife died. You held nothing but tender affection for Yereninovika – for me .” Yerenika bit her lower lip. “But you were a terrible king.”
It felt horrible to say it, to insult a dead man. But someone had to say it, even in death.
“Back where I came from,” she began, “there was this show. I rarely got to watch shows, I was always busy trying to gain money to pay rent and fill my stomach, but I made time. I always made time for little things, like reading the book you exist in.”
It felt good. So good to finally let out from her lips something no one else would perhaps know. No one would tell, no one else would believe.
Dead men tell no tales, indeed.
“I never did get the chance to finish that show. I died, you see, before I could. But in that show, there was a line I recalled, especially when I became Princess Regent.” Her fingers caressed the frozen skin of her father. “In that show, a character spoke of how personal indulgences can cause monarchies to fall, and that they must not make the same mistake.”
Her grip on his hands tightened, and there was a queasy feeling to it, touching a dead man, but she resisted the urge to pull away. She was Queen. The yellow light of the sun was now seeping through the small gaps of the curtains and Yerenika’s blue eyes stared at how it shone on the green carpet of the Royal Chamber.
“I will not make the same mistake that you did, Father.” She said, determination said in a low voice. “I will not let greed or ambition get in the way of my people’s future.”
She stood and fetched her shawl. Yerenika took a deep breath as she wrapped the clothing around her as she turned her back on her father and left the room. Waiting outside the busy hallway filled with rushing guards and servants were Sergey Levan and her father’s valet.
“Bring me the Archbishop and Lord Chamberlain.” She said, passing them to her father’s sitting room.
***
Two men entered the green and gold sitting room and they both knelt to the new monarch who held her head high with her elegant nightclothes and a wrap around her arms. The drawn curtains let the golden sun rain down on her, forming a halo-like figure on her pink hair.
The Archbishop of Livne and the Lord Chamberlain both knelt before her, the doors of the chamber open behind them, letting some members of nobility watch the captivating scenery before them.
She brought forward her hand and the Lord Chamberlain took it, placing a kiss at the back of it.
“The King is Dead!” he proclaimed. “Long Live the Queen!”
***
Yerenika hushed and kissed the weeping girl on her chest, not minding the dampness of her nightclothes nor the wetness of her skin. Her niece was more important than what she was feeling right now.
“I’m here, sweet girl.” She cooed and combed through her niece’s red locks. The red locks of the girl’s grandfather and her mother. The red locks of a future queen. Yerenika closed her eyes. “I am right here.”
I swear, she promised to the sobbing and trembling body against her own, that you will be happy.
***
The maid tightened her corset and helped her get dressed in black clothes. It was one of the dresses she had worn as she mourned for Theresia for three months. She could feel the tug and twist on her hair as more maids and handmaidens tried to arrange it for a formal meeting but her attention was drawn solely to the silent and weeping child on her bed.
“Sweetheart?” she called out and all hands stopped. Everyone’s attention was now to the mournful girl of red and black.
Blue eyes met blue and Yerenika beckoned for her niece.
“Come to me, my love.” She said in a soft manner and the girl quietly obliged her. Upon reaching her, Yerenika immediately placed her on her lap and the hands continued their duties as they tied the back of her dress and lifted her pink hair to a bunch of curls. Pearls adorned her neck and ears as a sign of mourning and elegance.
“You’re so quiet.” She whispered to her niece’s ear, “But I can hear so many thoughts in your mind, sweetheart. Tell me.” She kissed the dainty forehead. “Tell Auntie what’s wrong, sweet one.”
Brigitte moved her head and pressed it to the space between her breasts and Yerenika let her as she combed her lovely locks of flames. Finally, she heard her speak.
“Why is it that they all leave, Auntie? Mother left, and now Grandpapa did as well.”
Oh, my love. She closed her eyes in pain before opening them after a deep breath. If only I can take your pain.
Yerenika almost felt like she swallowed a large bone and could not force it down her throat. She embraced her niece tighter and closer. There were less hands now.
“Everyone leaves at some point, my love. We have both lost people we love, people we wanted to stay by our side. You’re young, but you must understand this – not everyone stays, Brigitte.” She kept kissing the red hair and the flushed forehead. “I know I said earlier that I’m here for you, but I won’t always be here.” She pulled her niece away and she held those ruddy and soaked cheeks in her hands.
It was just them now. The hands were gone, and so were the eyes that came with it.
Two reddened and swollen pairs of Livovnyan blue eyes met and they both shed tears. “That is why you have to be strong, Brigitte. But in that strength, I urge you to find happiness. You might not find it now, not so soon, but you will laugh once again, my love. This heavy burden in your chest will ease and those wonderful lips of yours will rise once again.”
***
The Council Chamber was silent and they made a path of black as she walked to her destination; the high chair. It had been a chair she had been sitting on for many months as she reigned as Princess Regent, but now, she is Queen.
She nodded to those who bowed her head and whispered their condolences before sitting straight at the chair in the middle of it all. The throne was too soon for her to sit on. This was a better decision. Brigitte stood by her side, hands in front of her as she looked at her uncle. She had been told to never look down and Sergey suggested that the unsure girl could look at him as he stood by the Ministers. Sergey nodded to them both and Yerenika cleared her throat.
“It is a loss to us all that the King, my dear and loving father, has left us and has granted me the privilege of ruling and governing this beloved nation. I have been ruling in his stead for the past six months, and yet this responsibility has not at all prepared me that much for the position of Queen, yet the God of Peace and Prosperity, Lord Laurus Himself, has placed this heavy burden in me and it is an honor to serve you all.”
Her eyes scanned the more than twenty noblemen in front of her, whose eyes held pity, hope, despair, and frustration. She swallowed the panic and clenched the armrests before speaking clearly once again.
“I rely upon the wisdom you have, with the loyalty and affection you have for the people of Livovny and my departed Father. I respect and love Livovny as much as any other King did in the past and it is my duty to uphold the monarchy, the rights and beliefs of our people to the utmost of my ability. Thank you.”
The noblemen bowed their heads solemnly and the Lord Chamberlain stepped forward from his place and made his way to her left.
“The Prime Minister,” he called, “Sergey Levan, Duke of Levan.”
Sergey moved from where he stood and knelt before her as she offered her hand. He gently and subtly squeezed it as he kissed the back of it and she knew he was sending her his strength, and that he will stand by her side no matter what.
“I, Sergey of House Levan, do swear to be loyal and serve our Sovereign Queen Yereninovika of House Livovny in ruling the Kingdom of Livovny, and will do my utmost best to be in her service, and in the service of the Livovnyan people. So help me, Laurus.”
He then stood and bowed before taking his place beside Brigitte as the Lord Chamberlain called the next man who would pledge his allegiance to her.
***
Yerenika lifted her head at the sound of footsteps and she saw the man she was waiting for. She couldn’t find the energy to smile even if she had wanted to. She found comfort in the fact, however, that he did not deign her with one as well.
“I had warned you of the dangers of roaming alone at night while you were a Princess Regent.” Euredian told her as she took her hand and kissed the back of it. She wondered how many times this had been done today. “You’re Queen now, the dangers only increase as your position rises.”
How valiant of you.
“I’m not alone,” Yerenika said, wrapping his right hand with both of hers. “I’m with you.”
She could finally breathe once again. The entire day had been so stifling and suffocating, yet his presence always manages to soothe her as it always did. Yerenika wanted to move closer but did not wish to make the man more uncomfortable.
She couldn’t sleep. Yerenika had stayed in Brigitte’s room for hours as she sang and comforted the only living relative she had left before knowing she could no longer pretend to sleep. Her feet made its way unknowingly to the empty hallway of where the royal portraits were, but the gazes of her departed relatives made the place unbearable and she walked some more.
Her presence seemed to have startled some of the guards roaming the palace and they immediately backed away after bowing to her, having been commanded to not approach her unless ordered to. She eventually managed to find herself at the East Wing. There had been one or two guards, but none of them blinked an eye at her presence in the area, nor stirred.
“Your guards seem to be quite lax when it comes to security.” She said in a dry voice. She had been crying all night and speaking all day. Yerenika wished she had some of modern medicine’s wonders with her right now. Ginger and honey tea was great, but she had no motivation to drink anything as of the moment. “I came here and they didn’t seem to mind.”
Euredian hummed and led her to one of the windows. “I’ve roamed the halls many times since arriving here.”
“I’m not you. They should find it strange that I came here.”
Euredian was silent before confessing with a hint of shyness. “I had thought you would do the same, especially…” he shook his head, not continuing despite Yerenika already knowing what he was going to say. “I told them if you were to walk around and enter here, they should let you be. It’s your palace now and we are your guests. We are at your mercy.”
“You are my guests. I should be at your leisure.” She said, finally unwinding.
Euredian took note of this and cleared his throat. “Shall we turn our backs?”
Yerenika blinked in confusion, her eyes heavy as she did so, before finally understanding the question and – for the first time today – she let out a smile. “We tried before but if I recall, we seemed to fail at keeping the position.”
The King of Bellecourt smiled at her tightly and before she could think of a possible reason why, his hands moved to lift the edges of her nightdress, the black lace and metal glittering as he shifted it under the low candlelight and shy moonlight. She could feel some heat come to her cheeks and she looked down shyly, suddenly unable to meet his eyes and her heart thundering loudly.
Seo Eun-seo clearly knew what this was and she tried to snap her head. Wake up! He’s a married man! She cleared her throat and slightly pulled away from him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Even if his marriage is a catastrophe, I mustn’t.
“You…” she began, twiddling with her thumbs as he retracted his hands and placed them on his lap, eyes on her though she couldn’t do the same. “You were younger than I am when your very own father died, yes?”
A hum of response. “Yes. I was only in my twenty-second nameday when my father passed.” From her viewpoint, she could see him lean back and rest against the walls of the window. “My mother passed away in my childhood.”
“… Tell me about it.” She spoke without a thought before flinching upon realizing what she had just said. In her movement, she embarrassingly met his widened eyes.
“Pardon?” he said, momentarily confused before his shock morphed into understanding and a nod came from him with a hesitant smile. “I see, I understand.”
“No, I…” she bit her lower lip. “I had not realized….”
In her desperate attempt to distract herself and move away the thoughts of her father’s death and the new responsibilities and titles placed on her, she had spoken without thinking and perhaps made Euredian more uncomfortable than he already was.
I might look myself a woman who uses her situation to jump on him. She wanted to slap her cheeks and forehead. Oh, I can’t face him!
With that in mind, she looked down. “I apologize, King Euredian. I spoke out of turn-“
“It was fine.,” He said and Yerenika found herself letting out a sigh of relief before he continued, “for the most part, still it was awfully repetitious.”
“What?” her brows scrunched and her eyes squinted at him in bewilderment. Then she grasped the content of his words. She was indulging her request. Yerenika was about to protest and told him he had no need but his right hand reached for her left and all movement from her stopped as they stayed like that.
She was leaning on him as he reclined on the wall behind him as they sat on the window. Yerenika’s head was lifted to him as he looked down at her with his height being far superior. In this manner, in this state, it all seemed so intimate and she could feel the heat in her cheeks worsening but, astonishingly, it all felt so wonderful, so refreshing. Especially after what happened today.
Yerenika had comforted Brigitte. Now she was looking to him to comfort her. Though she might find herself shameless, she was desperate. Two lives and in both, she lost her parents far too soon to her liking.
The movement on the back of her hand brought her back, as well as the soothing tone in his voice.
“My mother and father loved each other dearly. It was a wonderful marriage. One only need to look at the Central Gardens of the Palace to see it.” There was a reminiscent look in his burgundy eyes, a gleam of the past lingering. “Mother was very pretty and she was soft and kind, and so I thought and knew then that she was the most wonderful woman in the world.”
Yerenika rested her head sideways against the window and watched him as he continued to speak to her, thumb against her skin.
“She died when I was about five. She was weakened from the puerperal fever she developed from birthing me, and she developed pneumonia later on that took her life. Like your father, mine never recovered from her passing as well.”
Yerenika twisted their hands and now she was comforting him. “I’m sorry.”
Euredian shrugged. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing, especially to my father. He was lonely and focused on his work, spreading divinity, purging dark wizards, and establishing the Tower of Bellecourt’s authority in Rhyger.”
Yerenika nodded. Azekian may be rich in magic ores and stones, and have the most wizards in the continent, followed by Danarian, but it was Bellecourt who developed and improved the practice of magic, implementing laws that was agreed by the countries of Rhyger, and cementing its place in Bellecourt, who no one would dare to be enemies with.
Somehow, the thought of magic sent shivers to her spine. She had never witnessed it before. Despite ten percent of Bellecourt’s purchase of the magic stones coming to them, Livovny was not much on magic with the lack of wizards, nor was it special in divinity, despite having priests and temples of Laurus and the Goddess all over.
Resource curse. She thought absent-mindedly. The Paradox of Plenty.
Livovny was rich when it came to agriculture with the western portion of the lands abundant with produce and fertile soil. But the plague had struck and people were forced into their homes. The wares were near empty and the people would have starved if Bellecourt hadn’t aided them.
She looked at the man before him once again, to find him preoccupied at staring at her comforting fingers. Yerenika didn’t bother to remove it.
“My father was a greedy man.” She said, and Euredian met her gaze, nodding slowly.
“… Yes.” He replied, hesitant to insult the dead man who was her father. “He was.”
“Unwise and naïve when it comes to ruling and to politics.”
Euredian coughed, his uneasiness with the topic more evident now. “I truly didn’t know your father that much, Princess. I never even met him when I came here-“
“If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have been angry and insulted.” Euredian tensed and looked away. “If it wasn’t for him, Theresia and my mother would have been with us still.”
The more she continued, the more nervous her fellow monarch was as he couldn’t meet her gaze any longer. The grief of her father’s death returned to her and she let out a sob as she bowed her head in shame. Yerenika’s hands covered her face as she wept.
She did not know how Euredian saw her now, and she was too flustered to remove her shield and look him in the eye. Yerenika could feel the humiliation seeping through her bones as she struggled to contain her tears and her sobs as she could feel the awkward and unsure touch of the King on her exposed shoulder.
Despite the heaving and tears, she could feel her lungs welcoming fresh air. Yerenika felt as though she was inhaling some menthol medicine that she had once used to relieve some stress in pains back when she was a nobody who worked more than twelve hours a day.
A hand suddenly touched the back of her head and she gasped, removing her hands slightly only on time to have her nose meet the shoulders of Euredian. She stiffened at the sudden position they were in and could not move, her hands staying awkwardly in the air between their chests as one of his hands rubbed her back while the other moved downwards to her neck.
“I,” he began and she listened, too in shock to do anything else, “didn’t cry at my father’s funeral.”
Yerenika twisted her head to his neck at his confession, blushing when she realized she could now smell him.
“I was taught not to cry, and to never show such weak emotions to the public and even to family. I am the King of Bellecourt, Head of the Temple of Laurus, Protector of Rhyger, and so many things, and as such, I could not – or should not – show such weakness.”
Yerenika bit her lower lip, closing her eyes as she continued to listen to him. They both didn’t mind that his shoulder was not damp with tears, their wet skins almost meeting if it weren’t for his now-transparent clothing.
“I wanted to cry in private, but didn’t know who to turn to in comfort. My remaining relatives left after gaining their titles and I was all alone for five years in that large palace. I was all alone before Soleia came,” he said her name with some tension before she could feel him calming, “and then Dekalb came.”
Still, Yerenika thought, it must have been so lonely despite your wife and child being there.
The novel wasn’t much in detail on that part, really, but it was known by the readers that Dekalb grew up without much of his father’s presence and as he grew, so did the distance between him and Euredian. Thus, the boy had no emotional thought when it came to dethroning and killing his father, offering him as a sacrifice to dark magic.
You must have been alone… She sniffed. Like me. Like Seo Eun-seo.
She could imagine a man of twenty-two sitting by himself in the dinning hall and walking the empty hallways of the large palaces of Bellecourt, all the while passing paintings of his ancestors and his parents looking down on him.
Seo Eun-seo lived a life of loneliness. With white plain walls for her room and the covered pictures of a family that had once been alone. She may have not had the luxurious life that Euredian lived, but how was dining alone different from when she sat in a single chair at her apartment, eating nothing but a cup of ramen?
Hesitantly, Yerenika lowered her arms and placed them around his waist.
She felt him jump, of course, before he relaxed and continued his actions on her back and hair.
“You don’t have to do what I had gone through. Both you and I are different, so why should you do the same? I may not be family, but I’m here.”
Tears sprung to her eyes as she recalled the words she had said to her niece just that morning.
“I’m here, sweet girl. I will be right here.”
Letting out a muffled sob, she desperately embraced the king and poured out all her sorrow and worry on his shoulder and he did nothing to push her away.
In his embrace, she felt so warm and safe. For a brief moment, she wished to remain so secure in his hold and was tempted to shout at him to take her crown and to make Bellecourt an Empire of his making, but she resisted. Nothing good would come to both her and Brigitte if she did so, and she would only seem ridiculous in Euredian’s eyes.
Yerenika could take in his scent. He always smelled of wind and winter, something she could not explain why. But there was also a scent she could not identify. Her eyes opened slightly and she could see blue and white light leaving the King’s body and going to hers, and she smiled.
Even now, he gives away his divine energy so freely and without a care.
Divinity.
She snuggled closer to his embrace and the King’s grip on her tightened. Yerenika was too preoccupied to care at the moment as she thought of the blessing and ability passed down from Laurus himself.
Divine energy. One of the two most powerful forces in the world. It has the ability to destroy magic, but it can also be destroyed by magic.
Her eyes went to the bare skin of his beck and she watched the slight bumping of his pulse and the occasional gulps from his throat. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his skin as she closed her eyes and continued to think.
Divinity has the ability to destroy magic, but he was still defeated by his own son who aged no more than eleven. They say Euredian has the most powerful divine energy in the land, how could he be beaten by Dekalb at such a young age?
***
“As tradition, the mourning period for His Majesty will last for a year, thus the Coronation will be held on the same date.” Sergey said before the council and Yerenika gulped. “The citizens are required to wear black for the duration of a month, the nobility will do so in three months, the Royal Household in four months, and Her Majesty and the Princess will be in the mourning period for six months.”
There was a hum of agreement and Sergey continued. “King Euredian-“ at the mention of his name, Yerenika felt her hand twitch and she thanked Laurus for the mourning veil she wore, “-and the Bellecourtian Party have been here for a month.”
Gods, has it truly been only a month? She recalled the warm embrace of last night and she could feel herself burn more. It feels so much longer than that.
“King Euredian has indeed been very cooperative and helpful in rebuilding Livovny.” Lord Veritas began and Yerenika’s ears perked. She knew what the man was up to once again. “Though the angers of war remain, the people are grateful and many are willing to make amends with our Bellecourtian brothers and sisters in Laurus.”
Lord Sokolov hemmed in agreement. “Indeed. The man is as merciful and kind, as they say.”
There was a loud slam and everyone jumped as their eyes turned to the source of the commotion.
Lord Voronin. Yerenika sighed internally as she kept herself still on her chair. He lost his son in the war, alongside Duke Levan in the Battle of Cezanne.
It was the first battle that sparked between Livovny and Bellecourt, and it followed after the kidnapping of Theresia. It was the battle that killed Duke Levan, who led the army, and many others. Yerenika shifted uncomfortably.
They lost because they hadn’t known that Euredian prepared for an attack.
Livovny was a small country with no magic tower and as such, Euredian was assured that no wizard would enter his palaces with the same tactic he used with kidnapping Theresia. Azekian was unwilling to move against their largest consumer, but was unwilling to fight with Livovny, the only path of their trade, and so the third country remained neutral, as did Danarian. With this, Euredian knew that confrontation would happen sooner or later in the fields between the lands of Bellecourt and Livovny.
So, the King, who was back then in his twenty-seventh year, placed his troops on the forests by the Cezanne mountains that served as a natural border. All they had to do was wait for the Livovnyans to fall for the trap.
And they did. Both Brother-in-law and Father fell for it. But it was out of sheer desperation to bring Theresia back.
Yerenika knew all of this just by reading the written records of Livovny’s scholars. Although the Scholars had proclaimed that magic was involved to see the future, and some have speculated that it was only through sheer luck that a Bellecourtian Border Patrol was there, Yerenika knew otherwise.
Unlike Father and Brother-in-law, he thought with a clear and decisive mind. He knew what the next step was.
Yerenika briefly felt a chill at the sudden realization of how cruel and calculating the man she embraced last night could be. Yet, she could not imagine how the man with the soft smile and gentle touches can be that same man.
Perhaps I’m too biased.
She did, after all, mourn for his premature death.
His death. Yerenika gulped and remained silent as the councilmen went back and forth if it was time for the Bellecourtians to leave. Dekalb killed him in his eleventh year. He’s turning eleven now, isn’t he?
“My lords,” she said with a clear voice as she looked at the men through her lace veil and they all halted, “are we a bunch of wild animals? Livovny may be a kingdom surrounded by mountains, but we are not creatures of the forest. Please, calm yourselves.”
The privy council muttered among themselves, and Sergey, who also joined in the fight, huffed and sat back at his place on her right.
Sergey is still not favourable of Euredian’s presence here, nor any Bellecourtian for that matter. Yerenika took a deep breath. It is too early to say that we can survive without the Bellecourtian aid. The farmers have only begun to sow the field and we are still filling in the wares and coffers.
Yerenika lifted her mourning veil to look her men in the eye without any obstruction.
***
Euredian supervised the distribution of wheat with Ferric, but even if his eyes moved the movement of the piles of produce and his head nodded whenever someone thanked, his mind was focused on other matters.
A soft and warm embrace. A sweet scent of vanilla and roses. The feel of her body against his.
Euredian flinched at where his thoughts were going. Ferric seemed to have noticed his occupied state and inquired but Euredian dismissed his friend’s worries. Though, he himself was worried with the current state he was in.
He was no idiot. He knew what he felt. Particularly, what he felt for the new Queen of Livovny.
Euredian groaned internally and excused himself from Lord Veritas and instructed Ferric to take his place while he rode on Ruidh. He had no particular destination in mind, like how he wandered the nightly halls of Livovny Palace. His hood protected his identity from being known and he was sure enough of being able to protect himself.
His eyes went to the people of Livovny who were hanging a black variety of the Livovnyan flag from their windows or at their doors. Euredian could see from the distance that in the small plaza of Livne, where several government buildings were, flying the flag half-mast. His mind went back to the royal standard he placed on his father’s coffin and his eyes closed.
In a few days, Yereninovika would do the same as she finally lets her father’s coffin down on the ground, beside her mother and sister.
Euredian thought that, in a way, he and the new queen were no different now. They were both orphaned monarchs who were left with a single blood relative, who they had to look after. Euredian secured his mask over his mouth.
No matter what universe I’m in, I would never consider Elodia as my family.
He had been corresponding with Ivan on a daily basis through a magic sphere, and he constantly reminded the man he must be vigilant in using it. Knowing Soleia, should have installed magic sensors in the Palace by now without his authority and knowledge. Ivan assured that he would be using it discreetly and that he had asked priests to cleanse and purify his office whenever he was out.
“Still, Your Majesty, I fear something is amiss. I believe that the Queen is up to something and will use your absence as an opportunity.”
Euredian halted Ruidh and turned his head to where the white and gold Palace of Livovny was.
… I should go back soon.
But his heart tugged at his veins, and his mind played back the events of the nights of their meeting. The small yet significant touches, and the gentle voice that would either comfort him or need comforting. Euredian had grown dependent on these small memories.
Yes, he very well knew what he was feeling towards Yerenika.
Laughing sardonically, he turned Ruidh around and went back to the mountain where the Temple was.
***
“Where is the Prince?” Euredian blinked at his son’s nursemaid who was incredibly flustered at his return.
He had just returned from the Temple, excusing himself for the day saying he had matters to attend to with his delegates regarding matters of Bellecourt. He did have some correspondence and some papers waiting for him in his room, but he was in no rush and had no plans in doing them for now. He wanted to see Dekalb first.
Though he did come here to Livovny in relieving them from the plague and famine that had attacked the small nation, he also didn’t forget that he wanted to spend some time with his son. However, it would seem that his son had more matters than spending some time with him and the lessons he had with Schumart.
Marianne Levasilla bowed her head, her hands carrying some of his son’s clothing.
Euredian knew that the lessons were moved to Princess Brigitte’s play room as the chapel they once used was where the King was momentarily, before he was to be moved to the Temple. The room was far from where the deceased king was and Euredian knew that Yerenika deliberately did so in order for her niece to distract herself from mourning. But the room was empty and when he went to his son’s bedroom, he had bumped into the nanny as she was exiting from it.
“The Prince is currently with Her Majesty the Queen.” Marianne answered him and Euredian tilted his head slightly.
“Might I ask why the Prince is with the Queen?” he let out, and then recalled that Dekalb would often tell him in their dinners how Yerenika would spend luncheon with him and take him out on walks with the other children.
Marianne Levasilla lowered her head even further. “… The Princess… Her Majesty the Queen has asked to spend some time with Prince Dekalb and Princess Brigitte.”
Spend some time…? Euredian nodded his head and let the maid escort him to the gardens where the two remaining members of the royal family were.
He had known that the Queen – he was still unfamiliar in addressing her as such – spoke with the members of her father’s privy council and members of the parliament. Though Euredian couldn’t possibly know the true feelings of the new monarch, but he had enough experience to be familiar with it. The eyes of those older than you judging you, the slight nervousness when it came to becoming the new ruler and a father to millions.
Euredian had perfected the art of not showing his feelings to others. But it was only that, an act to hide the turmoil underneath all the ice and iron walls he had built around himself.
Yet, he admitted to himself as he saw a figure dressed in black holding the hands of two children, the silver-haired one wet and covered in dirt, ice melts to the summer sun, his thoughts halted momentarily and he saw those shimmering blue eyes,
and water rusts iron.
***
“Is it alright for us to be here?” Dekalb had asked him one day. Euredian looked up from his letters to his son who was frowning at the book in his hands. “The King is dead, and he was an enemy of ours. We took Princess Theresia from him, from here. They might think us rude and disrespectful to the late King.”
Euredian sighed and placed down his letter, approaching his hesitant and unsure son. He was always like this whenever it concerned the Livovnys.
I suppose I am no better. He thought as a maiden came to his mind and he shook her image away.
“People will suspect that we had some part in the King’s death.” Dekalb said grimly. Euredian was briefly reminded of how levelheaded his son was despite his age. Euredian knew he was no different in his childhood, but for some reason, he would describe Dekalb as more…
Grim.
Euredian nodded at his son’s words, unable to dismiss the thought. “Yes, there is a chance that many would think of that; especially those who didn’t want us to be here in the first place.”
“Like the Prime Minister?” Dekalb now looked up to meet his father’s eyes. The fiery light of the fireplace reflected in his ruby orbs, making them resemble bloodied flames. Yes, Dekalb was too mature and smart for his age. He didn’t know if he should be proud or concerned.
What did your mother do when she pushed me away from you?
Euredian then thought of the prime minister who still remained in his position despite the death of his monarch. Sergey Levan was a man who made it clear that he didn’t wish for his presence despite his polite words. The tight grip he gave whenever they shook hands or the glare he would give – knowingly or not – was enough for Euredian to know that he didn’t agree with Yerenika’s request in aiding them.
How could he blame the man, though? Euredian felt a headache and a sense of shame pass him once again, recollecting the sins he had made a decade ago. His eyes went back to Dekalb who was patiently waiting for him to speak.
“… None of the Livovnyan nobleman approached you with ill-intent, did they?” he then realized how vulnerable he left his son for the past month as he tended the plague-ridden communities and helped in food distribution. “Did they say something to you?” he then thought of the man that Dekalb mentioned. “Did Duke Levan do something?”
Dekalb was quiet for a moment and Euredian worried they did before the boy shook his head. “No, they were polite and civilized,” his son slowly replied, as if he was weighing his words, “but I believe it’s because they see me whenever I’m with Brigitte, or when I’m with Her Majesty.”
Euredian then recalled the image of the new Queen of Livovny wiping the dirt on his son’s cheek with her own handkerchief. It was very odd yet very comforting. He, of course, would not forget the image of his flustered son, who had apparently fallen with Alexio while playing a game of tag with the small princess. But what truly captured his eyes was the Queen of Livovny.
Despite the black dress, she shone under the brilliance of the sun. Her gentle hands wiping the dirt from Dekalb’s cheeks and her lips – they were soft, he was sure of it – letting out comforting words to the embarrassed princeling.
As Euredian continued to listen to his son’s detailed report of how the nobles of Livovny treated him for the past month, he couldn’t help but recall that memory from the garden. He couldn’t help but also think,
If I had thought more, if I had gone for a peaceful route… Would you have been her son, as well?
He could see it. A pink-haired princess, fresh from her coming-of-age ceremony and introduction to society, coming to Bellecourt. Perhaps Berryllia Palace wouldn’t have been a prison for two princesses, but a gift for a queen to show his devotion for her. He wouldn’t have the same amount of wariness and animosity that he now had with Soleia, nor would he be so distant in the first place with Dekalb. Perhaps she would have raised him like how she raises her niece; with bedtime stories and kisses on the forehead, tucking him in before she sleeps.
And perhaps, Euredian thought, his warms burning, my bed wouldn’t be so cold as the entire continent gossips. Euredian shook his head, disgusted with himself. For Yeudetta’s sake, Bellecourt. The woman had just lost his father. Have you no tact?
“-their presence, they would have been glaring at me more.”
Euredian nodded, clearing his throat in the presence to focus more on his son rather than the thoughts of a lonely, married man.
“Good.” He managed to gather that the nobles were too cautious as Princess Brigitte was with him and might tell Yerenika, or were too loyal to go against the Queen who was fixing their country.
He was sure that there would be some aristocrats that are disgruntled that their ruler was a woman, even if he had no problems with it. He was even more sure that her decisions with Bellecourt had affected some people’s perspective of her, especially those who lost something to the war.
There are things that not even the blessings of the gods above cannot remove.
No doubt, even if he was on the side of Yerenika, Sergey Levan was someone who was willing to have him removed from Livovny as soon as he could. Euredian could already guess that the Prime Minister was aiding more in the rebuilding efforts just so that Euredian would leave quickly.
“Oh, do you think King Bellecourt would go east?”
…
Euredian rubbed his forehead.
“Father?” he looked up, only to blink in surprise to find his son was now standing before him, hesitant and unsure. “Is… Are you…”
Euredian smiled, knowing what he was trying to convey. He didn’t interrupt the struggling child, wanting him to finish before he responded as he wanted Dekalb to know that he can be patient with him and that he shouldn’t hesitate when it comes to asking questions to him.
“What troubles you?”
Euredian wanted to chuckle but didn’t want the boy to misunderstand. Of course, he thought, that’s what you went with. Euredian placed a hand on Dekalb’s shoulder, the contact making the boy tense for only a second – an improvement. But that’s improvement enough, I’m closer now.
“Alexio told me of plans to go to Azekian.”
Ah, Euredian could feel a migraine, so that baseless rumour has spread.
Euredian dabbed his lips with his napkin and stared at his son, curious. “What do you think? Should we go?”
There was a moment of deliberation within the young child’s mind and Euredian watched as he mulled his thoughts over. Suddenly, a scrunch appeared between his brows and the boy before him frowned.
“It has been a month now since we left, and Mother has been sending me letters by the week. She tells me that I must come home soon.”
Euredian willed himself not to show anything to his son. ‘I’? Only him? He could barely contain the chuckle that threatened to burst from his throat and mouth. If she has told Dekalb that only he should go back first… then…
There were only two things that could imply. One, she has sent assassins to him and Euredian would soon meet his death, and Soleia would place Dekalb on the throne with her having all the power and authority of Queen Regent, Queen Mother, and Queen Dowager. The other was that she was planning for a coup to dethrone him, remove all the divine authority and right that has been there for hundreds of years and establish herself as the new ruler of Bellecourt.
Will she also rename the kingdom to Elodia?
After their breakfast, Euredian wrote a letter to Varyshad.
***
Euredian could barely contain a frown as he watched the new queen walk in the temple, following behind her father’s coffin.
She wore a black dress underneath a long black veil that symbolized her as a mourning family member. A golden crown was on her head and Euredian had thought at first it was the Queen’s crown but a quick queering whisper to Marianne Levasilla then informed him that it was the crown of a Crown Princess.
“The Prime Minister insisted that she wore her mother’s crown, but Her Majesty refused. I heard that it was because she couldn’t bear to wear her mother’s crown to her father’s funeral.”
Sentiment. Euredian understood her, even if he couldn’t empathize. It’s always a good look for the people. His eyes wandered to the council members who were by the pews, standing as their new monarch walked the aisle slowly.
Following the new queen was the new heir to the throne of Livovny. Princess Brigitte Levan followed her aunt and was also dressed in black. She, too, had a veil of the same color, although smaller than her aunt’s and it wasn’t covering her face, only her Livovny-red hair.
Euredian sympathized with the child who he watched grow inside his palace walls. The poor girl was pale and nervous, and it would seem that she was in shock from what was going on. Euredian had to close his eyes as the guilt soared within him.
“Don’t be guilty once again.”
His eyes then went back to the second main figure of the event. She was now on the throne before the lily-covered coffin, as she was the sole person in the King’s main family remaining. Yereninovika’s position reminded him of himself sixteen years ago when he was all alone in the Temple, despite being surrounded by a crowd of thousands.
He had cousins and relatives there for his father’s funeral, but no one was beside him, no one could stay beside him. He was the last Bellecourt.
Until Dekalb came.
The moment the newborn babe, crying and wailing to Yeudetta, had been placed in his arms, Euredian could feel some of his loneliness melt away and, somewhow, it felt a little— so little —brighter and warmer. Like he wasn’t distanced from others and had some family to root him down.
Before he knew it, his hand moved to his son’s shoulder and gripped it tightly, but not so much that would hurt him. Euredian could feel Dekalb’s gaze on him but he only squeezed once before returning his hands before him as the Archbishop finally announced everyone to be seated once Yerenika was.
Thus, the wake for the King of Bellecourt began.
***
Euredian watched from a distance along with other foreign dignitaries as the royal family, or the remaining members of it, buried the former king beside his wife and other ancient members of his family. They couldn’t hear the final prayers and goodbyes with where they were located and it was for the best. A monarch’s funeral may be open for viewership, but it at least held some small semblance of privacy for those he had left behind.
Though, unlike the others who focused on the lowering of the coffin and the sealing of the tomb with the king’s carving on the marble stone, much of his attention was on the new queen who is yet to be crowned.
Dekalb was by his side, standing proud and tall but not so much as to seem apathetic to the mourning tears of his friend and the heavy atmosphere that surrounded the Temple grounds. Euredian could see he was a bit uncomfortable, however. This was the first time that Dekalb had ever visited the Livne Temple, one of the few places with high amounts of divinity outside of Bellecourt.
The thought of his home reminded Euredian of the letter he sent to Ivan. it should be filled with assurances for his Prime Minister, and hidden messages that only the man would understand. Euredian knew how much Soleia guarded his movements in Bellecourt, but she should have no power here where his delegation was filled with people of the Temple, and servants of his own palace who were constantly cleansed and blessed with divinity.
Still, he thought as the Queen of Livovny threw a white lily to her father’s lowering coffin, I should return soon.
He was not anxious to leave, though. The only anxiety he could feel was the thought of Soleia forming a coup and the thought of leaving someone he knew he had grown to care for.
“Father,” Dekalb said in a low voice, so as not to attract the attention of those beside them, who were watching them at the corner of their eyes. “Is… it really painful… when your father dies?”
Euredian flinched at his son’s odd question, but thankful for his capacity to realize it was not a question to be said out loud.
Though, for someone like him, I should not be surprised if he knows more tact than me.
Euredian thought of an appropriate response to the question, and in the end decided to let his son answer it by himself, an answer he was genuinely curious to know as well, to see what his wife had told him.
“What about you? If I am suddenly gone, how would you feel?
“...”
Silence.
Euredian could not breathe with the response he had been given.
He smiled sardonically, somehow feeling some sort of unfamiliar sting in his eyes as the King’s coffin was sealed. It felt as though his son’s feelings were to be sealed and buried away with the cold coffin of a father departed.
“I don’t know.”
Euredian jumped at the sudden declaration and he looked down at his son, whose gaze was still trained on the mourning royal family, who were staring at the marble stone which held the former king’s features.
“... Dekalb?” he whispered, unsure if he truly heard his son or not.
“I, truthfully, don’t know how I would feel.” the boy, who was the splitting mirror image of himself, confessed.
Dekalb now held all of Euredian’s attention, despite him not giving him the same. The younger’s ruby eyes were trained on the figures of Yereninovika and Brigitte who were now walking back to the crowd.
Euredian was unsure of how he should interpret his son’s words. Should he hope that this was better or should he wish that his son rather not say anything at all? He was hesitant in asking, not wanting to shatter how his son is opening himself to him without force. Euredian feared that if he pushed too much of Dekalb, he would be pushing him back to his mother, and the month he spent on trying to mend their relationship would be all for naught.
“Thank you for coming, Your Majesty.”
Euredian snapped from his thoughts to see the calm and red eyes of Yerenika—no, Queen Yereninovika.
She has still to remove the black veil that failed in obscuring her face from the eyes of others, but he knew this was a calculated decision. She is not just some common girl who lost her father. She was now Queen who mourned for the departure of the previous monarch. Every action she did was a play being done on stage where her people are the audience, and she either commanded the room with her act, or she would let the eyes of the watchers control her movement.
“I am undeserving of the honor in being here.” he lowered his head for a second, the best he could give in lowering himself to the woman with whom his actions indirectly caused pain.
A huff of air and he fixed himself, staring at her with patient eyes that widened as she spoke.
“I wish you did not have to speak in such a manner.” she said in a light and soft voice, and Euredian would not have heard it at all if they weren’t some steps away. “You know how I think of you, and you know how thankful I am for your presence, Euredian.”
A deep intake of breath was audible beside Euredian, but it was quickly shoved to the back of his mind. The Queen’s eyes went to Dekalb and she smiled, though the action was not without sadness nor hint of tears in her still-red eyes.
“My father’s funeral banquet will be held back in the palace. Will you be attending?” her eyes then went to the side and Euredian followed.
There was the Princess Brigitte and the rest of her royal entourage, which included the frowning Prime Minister, Sergey Levan. Euredian did not know why but he swallowed a lump in his throat when the Duke’s eyes met with his.
“Yes,” he responded, a bit more subdued, looking away from the Duke and the Queen both as his eyes were now focused on the glistening silver band around his finger. “I will be there.”
***
“The Queen has distanced herself from others.”
“They say that she is in deep mourning.”
“Poor Princess, losing her mother, sister, and father must have been too much for her.”
Euredian sighed and rubbed the space between his brows, looking out the window where he could see a figure shrouded in black standing in the middle of the gardens, watching three children sit under the roofed fountain some meters away. He had been told by Ferric that since the funeral a week ago, the new monarch had spent the better part of her morning watching her niece in silence before locking herself in her new study for the afternoon, only leaving for dinner to be spent with the delegates.
Still, he thought, the man could be really perceptive.
He was still unsettled from his conversation with Ferric.
“The Queen has kept to herself?” he asked and Ferric nodded, hands behind his back like the soldier and loyal aide that he was. “I see. Well, it is understandable. In less than a year, she lost her entire family, excluding her niece. As long as she is eating and is in good health, let us give her some space.”
Euredian then went back to reading some reports on Soleia, and from Duke Raymond in gathering as much troops as he could discreetly and moving half of it South to where Kelkita is.
‘It is proving to be difficult, My King.’ the Duke had written, ‘the Queen has become paranoid, for some reason. My informant has told me that it was since the Prince had sent her a reply. The contents of which are unknown as she tore the letter and burnt the remnants of it in anger.’
What did Deklab say that made her lose composure? Euredian frowned in deep thought. His eyes and attentioned moved from the parchment to his childhood friend who remained still.
His frown deepened. “Ferric, is there more?”
The crimson-haired man shifted in his place, as though he was uncomfortable and it worried Euredian.
“Has something terrible happened? Come now, Ferric, say it before I lose my patience.”
Ferric blinked, mouth opening and closing for a few seconds, before he finally let his words out.
“The Princess—The Queen, that is… do you have feelings for her?”
Euredian could feel his mouth slacken at his words, the shock coursing through his veins at his friend’s question.
“Ferric? What?” was all he could force out, his mind blank.
Ferric, despite being his childhood friend and the man who was constantly by his side, never questioned private and intimate things that would normally be exchanged between normal friends and people. Despite their friendship, both of them knew that what must come first is Euredian’s rank and title, and the had only been crossed once before.
“Do you really think it wise to marry Lady Elodia?” Ferric has asked back then.
Does he always ask intimate questions when he thinks the line should be crossed? Euredian cleared his throat, placing Raymond’s letter on the writing table in his room. “What brought this question, Ferric?”
Ferric looked to the side, gulping, before sighing. “Your Majesty, I have been by your side nearly every day. It’s not hard to miss when you’ve been acting differently since we’ve arrived.” he paused, thinking. “At first, I truly thought it was because your relationship with His Highness was improving, and perhaps that is true to an extent, however…”
Euredian somehow felt nervous at the explanation his friend was drawing out. His hands were trembling and he hid them behind his back, trying to display an aura of confidence, ready to prove his friend wrong despite the doubts and the realization of what he might be saying is true.
But didn’t you know that yourself already?
“However?” he urged him to continue. What was it that made you see my feelings?
“... The way you look at her… and the way you touch her. It’s how one would look at… well… your spouse or lover.” he then displayed a sad smile. “Of course, you have never showed this things before. Especially to Her Majesty. I, too, have never felt such things but,” he chuckled, “everytime you do it, you look like Count Ivan whenever he looked at the Countess.”
“...”
“I know it’s not appropriate of me to ask you this, Your Majesty. But do you? Do you have feelings for Queen Yereninovika?”
“...” Euredian gulped and his clenching hands tightened, so much that he could feel his nails trying to pierce through his skin. In the end, he can only treat Ferric in the same manner Dekalb had. The answer that is so frustrating yet somehow, at the moment, satisfactory enough.
“I don’t know.”
Euredian huffed as he finally saw that Yerenika, who was a distance away from the children and hadn’t been noticed by them yet, finally moved away and walked to the direction of the West Wing.
Does he have feelings for her?
Of course, he was no idiot. He could tell that something was bothering him from the first night in Livovny, after she had touched his hand and called his name. Had she done so in Bellecourt, Soleia would have cursed her to death. Still, it brought warmth on the lonely nights he spent in Livovny. The thought of her comforted him.
Euredian rubbed his face in frustration. How could he be thinking such things when the woman itself was in her mourning period and clothes.
Have I sunk so low? He sighed and turned. His mind echoed with the thoughts of Dekalb’s words, which now resonated with his troubled and confused emotions.
“I, truthfully, don’t know how I would feel.”
He suddenly stopped in his movements and his eyes went back to the silver-haired boy who now stopped playing and looked in the direction where Yerenika had disappeared.
Then those garnet eyes shifted and he now gazed into his son’s eyes—sharp, calculating, deciphering. Dekalb stared, as though he was analyzing a shuffled puzzle before him, thinking of where to place which.
This led Euredian back to his thoughts.
If Ferric had seen it, did Dekalb do so, as well?
From where he was on the second floor of the East Wing, Euedian held his son’s gaze for a moment or so, before smiling and leaving.
***
Your Majesty,
It is indeed troubling that such loss happened while your stay in Livovny is still happening. I dearly hope that the people do not think that his death has something to do with you. It might turn them against you, and we would have trouble getting you out of there, but perhaps you would have ease in doing so yourself with His Highness in one arm.
In the most recent meeting, Duke Raymond has suggested that we display more of Bellecourt’s culture and ancestry in the Eugel Plaza. He was also concerned that there seemed to be many foreign artifacts in the Plaza, saying that it would bring imbalance to the nation’s identity. I agree with him.
Marquis Birrezen has taken his household South for the Summer, saying his wife and daughter wanted to go sightseeing before she is to be presented at Court for her debut. He insists on seeing you immediately on this matter, though I know you would have no interest in Lady Birrezen.
The Queen is doing well. I hardly see her, though, since she takes to spending most of her time in her palace and in the Tower. I worry with her movements as she might exhaust herself and bring Prince Dekalb worry over something so troubling.
I hope your stay in Livovny will soothe the troubled relations of the past and that you will bring back peace.
Your servant,
Ivan
PS. I heard rumors of you going East for Azekian and Danarian. Is this true? Please tell me so that I may prepare.
***
“Your Majesty!”
Euredian lifted his head, hands quickly finishing a blessing to the adolescent laying down on the cot. There were less patients now. Compared to the hundreds that came to Euredian’s way when he arrived in the first weeks, he now sees from thirty to fifty people at most. The Knights he had scattered with the rest of the priests to hurry the blessings, healings, and purification was effective and he can now spend more time in replying to some of his correspondence.
His eyes landed on a girl with crimson hair and a black dress.
Brigitte.
It had been a long time since he ever got to speak to her by himself. They were always in the company of others, such as her aunt and uncle, and of course the maid and guards assigned to her. He missed the bright and cheerful little girl he had raised in his palace. Brigitte was a daughter he had never asked but had welcomed. Her bright demeanor earned her the name “the Rose of Bellecourt.”
Of course, a fraction of the reason he took Brigitte under his wing is the guilt of having his father slain in the first battle.
The heiress to the throne of Livovny panted as she stopped by his side and he moved her away from the cot, and to any nearby patient, and knelt down before the young princess.
“Princess Brigitte,” he said, a soft and small smile on his face. He didn’t want others to see so he turned his head away from the watching eyes. “It has been such a long time since we last spoke to each other. Tell me, what are you doing here? Where are your companions? What are you doing here? Your Aunt would have disapproved of you coming here alone.”
The twelve-year-old princess stared at her for a moment, taking in his words before letting out a smile.
That smile.
Euredian paused as he looked at the smiling princess before him. In those eyes, and that small upturn of her lips, he could see her —Yerenika.
Her eyes were glimmering like clear skies and sunshine on a perfect day, something he would always longingly look out from his window back in Bellecourt Palace, stuck with work and a dreary life of sorrow and loneliness. They didn’t look haunted by years of war, famine, plague, nor loss. They looked so radiant, so hopeful—
So beautiful .
“I’m not alone, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice echoing through his mind.
“—I’m with you!”
Brigitte’s cheerful voice snapped Euredian from his wayward thoughts and he stared blankly at the child before him, wondering what she was talking about before recalling his question and he let out a small snort.
She speaks like her, as well. Euredian smiled fondly at the princess, patting the top of her head resulting in a shy giggle. You have grown so much under her care.
He lifted his hand and patted her red hair, which resembled rivers of waterfalls of fire and lava under the yellow gleams of the sun. Euredian could remember the little girl who would smile shyly behind her mother’s skirts and smile gleefully at the sight of cakes, cookies, and a small castle for playing.
“Father.”
Euredian blinked in surprise at the sudden and familiar voice; stunned eyes moving to the body behind Brigitte, hesitant and unsure.
“... Dekalb.” he could barely breathe out. He shook his head and regained his composure, standing and smiling at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Princess Brigitte would be in the Palace chapel with your nursemaids…”
His son moved forward, standing beside Brigitte now, and Euredian finally saw the third member of their small friendship, standing ever-so protectively behind the two of them. Alexio Cardona bowed to him and Euredian nodded his head to the boy.
Dekalb was about to respond to him when Brigitte responded, some small cheer on her voice.
“Auntie Yenny came with us! She’s the one who invited us to join her.” then, she lowered her head and fidgeted with the skirt of her gown. “Apologies, Your Majesty. I was so happy since Auntie finally came out of the Palace.”
Euredian could hear the rest of Brigitte’s words, but ever since she had mentioned of her aunt being with them, his eyes scanned wildly among the throngs of priests, holy knights, patients, temple worshippers—
There.
Standing in the middle of the Temple’s outer courtyard, her dark dress stood out with its elegance among the other black clothed people, and her black lace veil unable to fight against the pinkness of her bunned hair.
Yerenika.
Without his notice, his feet moved forward and his being was near her, eyes never wavering from the sight of her. It had been days since he saw her properly, and not somewhere far or at the other side of the banquet table. They haven’t conversed that often, most of their words filled with polite greetings and acknowledgements as they met, speaking of treaties and the assortment of goods, the price of mana stones and the improvement of the Glückmahn Road.
Their midnight meetings, which had happened twice in the past week, passed with sad smiles and silence as they gazed out the window, basking in the moonlight until the break of dawn, where she held his hand for a moment before turning and leaving.
Euredian couldn’t help but linger in those moments where her cold fingers met his, and he gave her divinity to move throughout the day.
The crowd paved way for him, Ferric and another guard’s uniform helping him stand out amongst the gathering forming a circle around the Queen who was speaking with the two archbishops, the Prime Minister beside her listening attentively before noticing his presence and bowing his head to him. The Duke whispered to Yerenika, who paused to listen to him, and she turned her head lightly to Euredian’s direction.
Through the dark yet thin material that made her skin look gray and darkened her countenance, Euredian was able to see past that and notice the glimmer in her eyes.
He smiled at her.
“It’s good to see you again, Your Majesty.”
A blink, and a shy smile as she lifted her hand and he took it, bending his head to kiss the skin that smelled of vanilla and roses.
“Yes, it is good to see you, as well, Your Majesty.”
And when he squeezed her hand, no one would be able to notice or say anything about it, not even when she returned it.
***
Euredian could see from where they were in the Temple’s public prayer room the three children running around carefully in the Temple courtyard, exploring the holy grounds while chasing each other. Brigitte was the one leading them, as always; pointing to the distances and giggling at her companions. Yet despite the laughter, Euredian could see the faint traces of soreness surrounding her eyes and the dryness on some areas of her lips, evidence of her crying state.
Alexio followed behind her, one hand on the pommel of his training sword and the other holding onto the flowers that would be picked up by the Princess, no doubt having plans in making more flower crowns for the three of them. He would occasionally shout before, beside and behind him, telling Brigitte to be careful, apologizing to someone they bumped along the way, and telling Dekalb to catch up to them.
Deklab, of course, would scow at Alexio, and run as though he was trying to outrun him. He, too, had a training sword hanging by his waist—something he was going to inquire about later. He was sweating, more so than Alexio, and Euredian knew that despite the playing, Dekalb was someone still unaccustomed to much physical activities. Always stuck in his mother’s study and in the library of his mother’s palace, always learning something. Soleia saw no need for him to master the skills of the sword or any other weapon, reasoning he had divinity.
More lies coming out of that venomous mouth of hers. Euredian restrained the anger from contorting his features. But he released those emotions by clenching his fists instead.
There was a swish of skirts and before he knew it, there was a soft hand clutching his hand. Euredian’s eyes widened and he scanned the room. The Archbishop’s back was turned to them as he left for the dinning hall to oversee the patients with two priests following him, Thierry and the Prime Minister conversing beside him. Ferric could see them at the corner of his eye, he knew that without a doubt, but the man was resolute in not looking in their direction and keeping his violet eyes on the people walking in the courtyard, as though guarding them from being seen by others. Other than that, they were alone in an area that would have been filled with people worshiping, had it been another day.
“You’re angry.” she whispered to him in the silent yet illuminated holy grounds and he looked down beside him, meeting her eyes through the sheer fabric. “I don’t know what angers you so, but I know it will get better. Isn’t that what you told me?” she smiled, though he could see her eyes brimming with tears. “It will be alright soon?”
She shouldn’t be comforting him. He should be comforting her, as someone who had a precious person pass away so recently. Euredian took a deep breath and smiled.
“Yes,” he said to her leaning his forehead to meet hers, hearing her gasp and feel her hand warm, “it will all be alright.”
In the back of his mind, he could recall the letter he sent to Ivan.
***
Ivan,
Livovny is in the process of recovering from the war and the tragedies that had occurred during the past ten years. I’m glad to know that your wife still tells you the latest gossips of Rhyger. Do send her my regards. I’m also happy to see you’re handling state affairs well in my absence. I hope the Queen sends you no trouble.
My friend, I have a favor to ask of you and you are the only person I trust to do this. Go to my table in my bedroom and open the topmost drawer. There, you will find a key. Now, follow my instructions precisely, for if you make one wrong move, everything will be ruined.
***
Euredian closed his eyes, smiling at the scent of roses and vanilla mixing with his own; divinity surrounding them and blowing so gently on her dress and veil, the pink strands of her hair moving underneath the material to his delight.
“It will be alright, Yerenika.”
She smiled.