by Laura R Cole
CHAPTER 32
“I know where she is,” announced the King suddenly.
Jezebel looked up from the letter she had been drafting. “She?” she asked inquisitively.
To her frustration, the man ignored her and went on. “She's in a town up north called Dunlop.”
Jezebel's ears perked up at the word. That was where her little two problems were said to be heading. Again Jezebel begged an explanation of him. “Who is?” And again she was ignored.
Jezebel felt the pen in her hand bending with the pressure she was putting on it, and she willed her fingers to let go of their death grip. She took a deep calming breath. The King's audacity in his treatment of her was a continuous grating on her frail nerves, but she knew she'd have to put up with it until she maneuvered her way to the top.
He finally turned his attention to her, and she tilted her head at the strange look in his eyes. It was as if he were focusing on something far distant. “We're going to take a trip to Dunlop, I think,” he said finally, his attention on her once more. “Right away. And bring your hounds.” He paused and then narrowed his eyes slightly, now looking directly at her, and he said sternly, “I don't want her killed though, so make sure you keep them under control. She must be brought to me alive.”
Jezebel bit back a retort, having learned that the King was not a man who tolerated being talked back to. She simply nodded to him instead. Luckily, she had learned how to handle men like him by way of her father. I just have to hold off the anger until the right moment, and then someday, someday I will be able to throw it all back in his face, and tell him about all the maneuvering I've been doing behind his back, and how bad of a father he had been...She shook off the annoyance, and covered her scowl by bending her head while she curtsied her good-bye as he left the room.
She sat back down roughly, rumpling her dress. She crumpled the letter that she had been working on as she no longer needed to come up with the excuse. The King had just ordered her to go to the very place she had been trying to come up with a reason to visit. Sometimes things worked out so deliciously.
She was curious who this “she” was that had the King so worked up. Perhaps some little trollop he had been using for his plaything had gotten away and he had just tracked her down. It seems like too silly of a thing to go on such a journey for, but then again, men have such big egos, and would go to great lengths to protect their pride.
She hoped that while they were there they could look through the ruins of the Dark King; though it was doubtful that there was anything of value left at the fortress. Despite the horror stories and urban legends surrounding the place, there were bound to be those who were fool-hardy, desperate, or just plain stupid enough who would have braved the stories and gone in to loot the place. The kings of the past had all unsuccessfully put bans on entering its grounds, but this only served to further fuel people’s curiosity. This had led to others putting together pillaging missions to rid it of its notorious history, so one way or the other it was probably empty. The really good things had been burned in the fires directly following the overthrow anyway. Which really was a great shame. The book that Jezebel had gotten was extremely interesting, and it constantly hinted at there being much more knowledge that was not contained in its pages. But it had existed and had been known at some point. And then it had been burned and forgotten. Jezebel sighed at the loss.
She raised herself out of her seat and tried to casually glance at the papers that the King had been looking through before his hasty exit, in hopes of getting some clue as to where he had suddenly gotten such information. Frustratingly, he had them spelled so that they were blank to peering eyes. Her hands itched to pick them up and try and break the enchantment, but she knew that even in seeming privacy, things were never as they seemed in the palace halls, and she left them alone. She made her way out of the chamber she had been using to discuss the current affairs with the King, and walked slowly back to her own suite.
In her room, a letter on the table caught her attention and she opened it, reading, “My lady, I have some information on the man you wanted me to look into that I think you will enjoy. If you would please join me at your earliest convenience in the conference room, I would be delighted to share it with you, Devon.” Jezebel placed the letter back on the table and went immediately into the conference room, eager for any news. Devon was sitting there waiting for her and she greeted him, allowing him to speak. “What have you learned?” she asked.
He smiled one of those smiles that she had begun to recognize as meaning he was extremely pleased with the information he had to offer her. “Only that our King is not who he says he is.”
“Oh?” Jezebel was intrigued.
“Yes. Baron Asheron, through whom the King made his claim to the throne due to blood relation, in actuality, has no blood relation to our fine new King whatsoever.”
“How so?”
“Well, despite the mysterious disappearance of several of the people who knew anything about it, I was able to find out that Lady Asheron already had a son when she wed the baron. A son whose name was Nathair.”
Jezebel raised a brow. “And were there any other children in the union?”
“Several miscarriages, but no live births. Which is apparently why the lord finally named the boy as his heir. The fact that it wasn't his was covered up so that he wouldn't lose face over not being able to produce offspring, and having been forced to name an illegitimate child as his heir.”
“Hmm,” Jezebel thought. “And what are the logistics of being named the heir with no blood relation in this situation?”
“I am not familiar with any such circumstances ever coming up, Councilor, but I would assume that since his only true claim to the throne was that royal blood flowed in his veins, he most likely would not have gotten the same reception that he did, had he revealed this fact.”
Jezebel pondered this juicy revelation for a moment. “How delightful.”
She did a quick preliminary list of possible uses of the information in her head, before giving Devon further instructions. Perhaps this ‘she’ the King was so intent on finding was someone who knew this information. Jezebel’s presence on this journey could be useful in many ways.
“Make sure that no one else knows this story, and can't find it out until if and when we want them to,” she ordered. “I have another chore for you as well, Devon,” she said as he started to take his leave of her, and he paused. “I'd like you to start arranging a series of unfortunate events to happen to my father. Now that I am the one in the position of power, I'd like to see him squirm. He's been acting much too condescending to a woman in my position, and I'd like to see him put in his proper place. I have a list of possibilities I came up with the other day around here somewhere.”
She smiled nastily and he grinned back at her. “It will be my pleasure, my lady.” He continued his bow, and left her to further sort through all that had happened. Her father was a very religious man, of the superstitious sort, and she had faith in Devon's creativity to take advantage of this fact. A wrong sign here, or a bad omen there, and her father was apt to change his whole course of action in order to try and correct whatever mistake he had made in the Sleeping God's eyes.
Once he was out of her way, busy with his own misfortunes, she could concentrate her full energies on the King. He was the last obstacle in her path now, and Devon had just brought her the key to bringing him down as well. There was simply no conceivable way that she would not get what she wanted. The blood in the King's veins may be tainted and untrue, but hers was pure and royal, and she could see a path clearly now, bringing her straight to the throne.
