I slowly sat up.
“What? What happened?”
“His Majesty...Rudolph...”
“What happened to Uncle!” I sat up in the bad.
“He’s...dead.”
“HOW?”
I pushed the blanket aside and started getting dressed. Really, none of you could avert your gaze? I was sleeping naked, by the way.
Curs.
“Your Highness, His Majesty was murdered!”
“Any details?”
I knew them well, but I listened to an idiotic tale of horrific cruelty, of Uncle’s body being torn to shreds. Really? Had somebody else been there after me? They even spoke of blood that flooded the entire bedroom...
“How many bodies of the enemies are there?”
“There’s nobody...” the chancellor mumbled.
“How can that be?” I roared. “My uncle didn’t kill any of his assassins? Impossible! He was the first knight of the kingdom! He should have resisted them!”
The courtiers, apparently, had never considered that. Idiots.
Yet they all nodded. Of course he fought back. Should we escort Your Highness to the place of his tragic demise?
Certainly.
I also told them to summon the templars and perform a funeral service for Uncle, just in case.
Auntie was hysterical. Great, let her stay in that state until I can deal with her. In Uncle’s bedroom, everything was just as I had left it. Uncle was lying with a contorted look on his face, and somebody had already closed his eyes. Flies were starting to gather, smelling his blood; even in a royal palace, there was no escaping them.
I knelt down beside him, trying not to step in a puddle.
“Rest in peace, Uncle. I’ll find your assassin, I promise.”
Then I turned toward the courtiers.
“Leave us. I want to pray.”
Incidentally, I prayed quite sincerely. I wanted Rudolph to get his just desserts. Not mercy, as he wasn’t worthy of that, and not payback, as I had already gotten it. Let him get what he deserved, no more, no less—justice.
I prayed until someone slipped inside the door—a shadow that seemed to creep out everything around it. It was a Hound, and not the common sort, it was clear by his look. His clothes were too expensive, his eyes, too malevolent.
“Your Highness?”
I turned with eyes full of tears; I had rubbed them with my sleeve to get that effect. Goldwork was a pretty scratchy material.
“Y-yes...you came?”
“You may call me Servitor Ignacio.”
I nodded. Not a thrall, no, a servitor. That was top brass.
“Servitor Ignacio, I would like to entrust the body of my poor uncle into your care.”
“Yes, child of light. I know that the king is dead, but why—”
“Look.”
I brazenly threw the sheet open. The servitor seemed nauseated.
Had he already grown unaccustomed to that? But he quickly took hold of himself, knelt down, and touched the wounds.
“Who did this?”
“It’s still unclear.”
“Well then, according to the Bright laws, we are to consecrate him and bury him...”
“As a king, with all honors. What about tomorrow night?”
“Yes, child of light.”
“Then I deliver this body into your custody, Servitor. I have business to take care of.”
With Abigail, for instance; the bitch was resting in her chambers in a constant temper tantrum. She was surrounded by a swarm of court ladies, but as soon as they noticed me, they all scattered, like colorful butterflies from a piece of carrion.
I came up to Abigail and bowed to kiss her hand, noticing shining red curls out of the corner of my eye.
“Auntie, please accept my heartfelt condolences.”
At first, I thought she hadn’t heard me, but then, her blue eyes focused on me.
“You! It’s all because of you! YOU!”
I grabbed her arms before she had a chance to claw my eyes out.
“I sympathize with your grief, Auntie. Please know that I will always be your friend.”
And I squeezed her arms a bit stronger, so the pain would bring her to her senses. It would leave bruises, but whatever. I wasn’t going to beat myself up over it.
Judging by her face, the former queen finally saw reason.
“Alex! Oh, Alex! My poor husband!”
Weeping, the old shrill hung on my neck. I stroked her hair, noting that her sobbing looked quite sincere.
“Don’t worry, Auntie. I’ll take care of you.”
“Yes...of course...”
Her eyes suddenly filled up with pure dread.
“Alex...you’re the king now!”
She wasn’t pretending to be afraid. She knew that I was going to pay her back for everything, and quite rightly, too. No, Auntie. I’m not going to kill you. You’ll stay alive, and you’ll live long. At least while I’m the king.
I nodded.
“I suppose so, until your child is born.”
Once again, there was the proof of her lies. The woman’s hand slowly dropped to her stomach, as if trying to feel it up and not to cover it.
“Yes, my baby...”
She was clearly plotting something. How about I stir up the pot?
“Of course, if your child is a boy, I will pass the crown to him. But until then...be safe, Auntie.”
I turned on my heels and left the room. Right at the exit, however, somebody caught me by the hand. I turned my head sharply and barely had time to stop my hand from striking her. Carlie...
“Alex!”
I snapped my hand away.
“Get out of here!”
“Please, listen to me!”
“One more word, and you and your husband will be sent to convents for the rest of your lives!” I roared, losing all vestiges of control. How dare she!
Carlie recoiled, and I walked out of the queen’s chambers.
“Your Majesty?”
It was the chancellor.
“Aren’t you too fast?”
“Your Majesty, could you please follow me to the throne room?”
“What for?”
“The best people of the kingdom are gathered there...”
Got it. The richest, most powerful, and most influential. And they clearly wanted to offer me something...
Why can’t the roof fall upon you all! Oh, wait. I don’t want the palace to get damaged...I would rather just hang them later.
The courtiers were waiting for me in the throne room. Dozens of looks pierced me like needles: angry, confused, frightened, appraising... I walked toward Rudolph’s throne and turned to the crowd, sitting down next to it on the stairs.
“His Majesty Rudolph is dead. We will find the murderer.”
“Your Highness, according to the king’s will, you’re our new king, right?” some gilded scum barked.
I chuckled.
“What about the queen’s child?”
For the next fifteen minutes, I listened to objections. The child hasn’t been born yet, giving birth at such an age is dangerous, it’s not guaranteed he will be born at all, what if it’s a girl, and even if a boy, will he reach the age when he can rule?
Everybody was buzzing, bustling, and assuring me they would be happy with me as the king.
Not so fast...
I was in no hurry to disappoint the supplicants, though. There was plenty of time. Instead...
“What does Duke Chartreuse want to say to me?”
Abigail’s father was here as well, looking as if he had just chewed on a lemon. He and his daughter were too late. If only they had more time....
“Your Highness, we rely on your honor.”
“Especially when we have a war with Tevarr at hand,” I smirked.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, all martyr-like.
“But the crown is...such a huge responsibility. How about a regency a
fter the birth?”
The voices combined into a rumble, and I definitely noticed some opposition there, including the Chartreuses themselves. What was their plan?
I’ll figure it out soon enough, anyway.
About an hour later, I allowed myself to be persuaded. The funeral was to be held the next day, and the coronation, two days later. But before all that, I asked to be left alone to pray in the royal temple.
And don’t even think about disturbing me!
***
I wasn’t going to buy the courtiers’ flattery, of course. Rudolph’s death was very sudden, and that was why they needed me. We had either a war with Tevarr or a treaty with Riolon ahead of us, and Chartreuse wasn’t deluding himself; if anything happened, he and his family would be torn apart. He would have loved to put on the regent’s crown, but Abigail was yet to “give birth”. It wasn’t proper to give birth to a full-term child while three months pregnant, well, maybe four, five at most. She would have to walk around with a big belly for at least three months and act the hell out of it.
During that time, many issues would arise and many would be dealt with.
If the boy cleans up the situation—or, rather, not the situation, but something that was supposed to be shoveled—then great, we’ll see what we can do. We’ll have a boy and let him pass the throne, as he promised. And if not...well, it’s not like there’s a shortage of daggers.
If he fails...we’ll just snatch as much money and valuables as we can and run away, leaving him to sort out the mess.
The thing is, both of those options required some time to prepare, and I wasn’t going to give it to them.
I spent my supposed prayer time summoning the spirits inside the temple. I’ve already mentioned that every palace has lots of ghosts haunting its halls, and they were rushing toward me, having heard my call and sensed my blood. I could have done without the last part, but it allowed me to remain undetected. Using your own blood as the power source was the best—no templars, no traces...the only problem was that a human had only so much blood to give.
The ghosts gathered quickly, and agreed to serve me just as fast. Yes, Master, why don’t we tell you about the goings-on inside the nobles’ chambers? Spying’s a good old sport....
Oh yes, I was in a temple. You think using necromancy is impossible inside its walls? Ha-ha! Not just possible, but quite recommended! Now if it was a truly holy place, imbued with faith and divine grace, that would be a different issue. But where would you get any in that temple? From the courtiers? From the local thralls and servants?
Sorry, but you can’t grow roses on an oak. There were no true believers or righteous people in the palace, and the only holy place left inside was the heart of Radenor, and it would help me even if I did perform sacrifices. I did suspect that my ancestor was no stranger to necromancy, either, because where else would we get magic in our blood? Fire, you say? Magic could manifest in different ways, but if it was in your blood, it would show itself, sooner or later.
I gave the ghosts their instructions and released them to listen and watch, and in the meantime, took a nap on the bench, so I wouldn’t be seen from the entrance, and stayed there until the evening. Until they brought Rudolph’s body inside. It was clean, with the guts carefully placed back, and was even dressed in a magnificent white doublet. Why not? It’s not like we were burying a dog.
They laid the body on the altar, and Abigail took her place beside it. She put a white velvet pillow under her knees and prepared to pray all night long. I said goodbye to my aunt, kissed her hand, and rushed to my chambers. There, Tom was waiting.
“What are we going to do?”
Rene was there as well. Great.
I looked around, checking if anybody was eavesdropping. Although...let them! I put my hand on the wall and gave the palace an order. That was enough. We were protected from eavesdroppers, no matter how much they tried.
“Rene, do you want to become my chancellor?”
His eyes widened.
“Alex, no. I could never pull it off.”
“What about your father?”
His answer could be seen on his face. His father would manage, but he would be stealing money.
Fine, I needed my own people in all positions anyway. Therefore...
“Then go to your father and tell him that he’ll become chancellor as soon as I become the king.”
“Alex...”
“Please don’t start all this about honor and responsibility, all right?”
Rene nodded.
“I...we’ll try not to fail you.”
“Exactly, ‘we’. You’re going to help him. All of us die, sooner or later, and chancellor is a complicated position.”
“Right.”
“Tom, you’ll be handling the palace guard.”
“Alex, but I—”
“You can do it. Or are there any other options?”
Judging by the look on my friend’s face, there weren’t.
“At least we will feel safe in the palace. You’ll have to fire the old guards, recruit the new, train them...well, you get it. After that, I’ll entrust you with something else.”
Tom nodded.
“Next, write to Rick, have him send us someone who can be the treasurer.”
“But...”
“I’m not satisfied with the old one. He’s a Chartreuse, and that says it all. Oh, and Rene, prepare a report together with your father: how many Chartreuses and their relatives we have, how much they’ve stolen and what we can take from them as a reparation. Got it?”
“Got it. Will you hang them?”
“Of course.”
“Alex, have you no shame?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“They are noblemen! Ropes are too crude for them! Only axes and gilded scaffolds.”
“Hmm, that’s right. Why waste good ropes? That’s no good. Well, do you understand me?”
“Quite.”
“Then...”
After hearing me out, my friends went on their way. When I was alone, I summoned the ghosts. Their reports seemed promising. Around ninety-five percent of the courtiers thought that I wouldn’t be able to rule long. Maybe I would last for the duration of the war with Riolon or Tevarr, and then, the Chartreuses would dethrone me.
The Chartreuses, by the way, were also quite sure of themselves. Abigail hated me, but considered me a lucky idiot. As for Carlie, she didn’t waste time. Apparently, she had been sleeping with Chartreuse Junior, Abigail’s younger brother. I had killed one of them, but there were more! And she was still pregnant.
What did it matter, though? Abigail wasn’t that stupid! The child would have to be a Radenor by blood, or he wouldn’t be able to be crowned. He would burn like a candle.
Or did she not know that? That was possible. Where would she have learned history and the theory of magic? Very few nobles were taught that. Plus, she could just be hoping for a miracle.
On the other hand, what did it mean, Radenor by blood? A child could be crowned right after birth, and blood... If someone drank my blood, that person would also have the blood of a true Radenor.
Then they wouldn’t kill me right away? Or...
One of the summoned ghosts, a lady in waiting killed for her habit of eavesdropping and spying on people and then casually revealing their secrets in front of everyone—a dangerous pastime in any era—was still hovering in front of me.
“Whom did my uncle sleep with over the last three months?”
“Baroness Airel. Viscountess Latour. Countess Jolin.”
“And the only one pregnant is...”
“The viscountess.”
Carlie...what a spiderweb. I wondered who had been the first, my uncle or the viscount? Or had Carlie decided to use her condition?
Before, I hadn’t questioned the ghosts about that, it had been too painful. It didn’t matter anymore, though.
“Tell me more about Uncle and the viscountess.”
The spectral l
ady looked at me with sympathy, but didn’t comment. Instead, she recounted everything in a deliberately dry and calm manner.
“After you left, Prince, Viscount Latour started to court her, at Her Majesty’s command. They fed the girl a love potion, a pretty weak one, brewed by an unskilled witch, and right after she drank it, she fell for the viscount’s charms. They got married, and then you returned...”
“I scared him off.”
“Exactly. So much that he ran away from his wife.”
“And?”
“Stopped feeding her the potion. Alone at court, even if not for long, your former paramour realized that she had lost the chance to become a part of the royal family...and that’s where your uncle came in.”
“With a potion?”
“With a sympathetic ear. He told her how horrible it was that his nephew had been unable to understand her, that she deserved the crown...”
“The usual story?”
“Quite.”
“Did my aunt know?”
“Of course.” She was the one to choose women for your uncle, or, rather, her father, with her permission. They preferred to do it themselves and select the stupidest, most easily controlled girls, whom they could quickly remove from court, should anything happen...well, you get it.”
“I get it.”
“So did it happen?”
“You suspect her child is your uncle’s? You’re right.”
On the other hand...you never know. Carlie might have had some dormant magic power that I had never noticed, and then, Martha’s curse was specifically against Rudolph conceiving children with Abigail. She wasn’t that strong for it to affect both of them.
So in theory, Uncle could have made Carlie pregnant.
“And Abigail...”
“Your aunt knows everything.”
Well. That is a problem. What will I have to do? Kill Carlie? Rene would never forgive me. Well, he would, but his wife, never. Carlie was her blood. And then, the honorable Hermann Likeworth wouldn’t exactly be pleased either. I could protect myself, but Torrin? The county was only protected by its obscurity.
Kill her secretly?
Wouldn’t work with a necromancer. If Rene wanted, he would find out the truth.
What else? Make Carlie miscarry?
But it was a child of royal blood, and if anything happened to me...
Half-Demon's Revenge Page 34
