Royal Chronicles of Denmark, Books 1 & 2

by Kiki Leach

  “And we shall have our own recurring tête-à-tête as well?” She sounded weary, exhausted now. “My husband erroneously promised our son to the Princess of England. Norvack went against his father’s wishes and married you instead.”

  “For love, not spite,” I disrupted.

  “I never believed in spite, Cinderella.” She sighed. “My husband made a promise to a king of a much larger country, a promise in which he could not keep, yes. And as a result, two countries meant to unite in power went to war instead. Norvack’s marriage to you was the ultimate betrayal to the King of England. Belarus will never be able to regain his trust.” She stopped and looked off into the distance, appearing melancholy. “Now if I may ask, what on God’s green earth do you prefer I do with regard to my husband this time?”

  I turned to her and leaned back on the table. “Only the same thing I have said time and again, which I would never need to do if you did as you claimed. Remind the king of his faults as well. Remind him that this is in due part to his own actions.”

  “And if I told you that I have once more?”

  “I wouldn’t believe you, once more. No man who berates his son as the king does Norvack, and has since he was a child, would continue to do so if someone, my God, if his own WIFE were to inform him of --”

  “You are very different from me, my dear. Very different.” She took a breath and then swallowed hard. “Your kind puts fear in men like my husband and many in this country as a whole. But Norvack doesn’t fear you, does he?”

  “As he shouldn’t.”

  She crinkled her brows and nodded. “You inform my son of your wishes and desires and hopes and dreams and somehow he listens to you, without question, he always listens. He doesn’t see you as only the maker of his children, to be seen and not heard by him or others. He values you as his partner, as his equal and that is extremely uncommon. Cinderella, the last time my husband listened to me was on my wedding night. And as you can imagine…” She waved a hand and moved around me, over near the bed. She looked to the ceiling and I saw her face redden. It was almost as if she was trying to keep herself from crying. “Do you recall our conversation on your wedding day? Informing me that you wished to never be like me?”

  I nodded.

  “I wish you a congratulated victory, as you never will be. When you said I have no voice, you were correct. The only voice I have is this to you. No matter what I wish to inform my husband, it will never matter, as his wants, his needs, and his own desires come before mine, yours, and certainly my son’s. The king wishes a child birthed from a common whore were still alive, while my son begs for his love, would crawl on his knees in a bed made from glass if it pleased the king. And yet another woman’s dead child still takes precedence.” She shook her head and smiled sadly. “I swear some nights he prays to God that Willem be brought back to him. I almost fear that my husband is angry, not because Norvack won that battle, but because he didn’t lose his life in doing so.”

  I jerked back and puckered my brows in disbelief at her words. “What?”

  “I fear the king believes if Norvack had died, then it would have been the ultimate sacrifice my husband needed to resurrect his first born. One son dies, the other lives.”

  “That’s pure insanity! They would both be dead, with no chance of ever producing his precious heir to the throne.”

  “That is the King of Denmark.”

  “No. That is a sorcery that God Himself would condemn.”

  Before she could speak another word, Norvack reentered the room. He glanced at each of us, puzzled, but attempted to hide his concern behind a wide grin.

  “Have I interrupted something of much importance?” he asked.

  “Not at all, my son.” The queen walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “I shall see you both downstairs,” she said, exiting.

  I closed the door behind her, then turned to the prince as he crossed the room in a huff.

  I leaned back and rolled my eyes to the ceiling.

  “My God. Your mother is exhausting.”

  He sighed. “What has she done this time?”

  “I believe a much better question is what she hasn’t done. Are you aware that your father is still so blinded by his love for your brother that he…” And then I stopped, wondering what good would come from verbally spewing what he had known in his heart since he was a child.

  He fiddled with his cufflinks and looked to me. “That he, what?”

  I glanced down at the floor and rattled my head. “Nothing. Never mind, it’s of no matter.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.” I assured him with a smile.

  “Alright. If not that, then what else did you discuss with my mother?”

  “The same per diem, which of us despises the other more.”

  “I thought you two made peace?” he asked. “The conversation of which you informed me, the one which took place in the stables--”

  “Yes, my future king, we made our obligatory peace with one another as families always do. However, neither one of us is dead yet.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, as we’ve made our peace, it doesn’t suddenly make us emotionally closer. She is your mother first and foremost, and never mine. Peace inside this palace keeps us civil. At least when we are in the presence of others. We are not enemies and I don’t believe we ever were. Only misunderstood and that is no longer the issue.” I moved in and slid my arms around his waist. I rested my chin on his chest and looked into his perfect, jade green eyes. “She realized the truth of what I felt for you long before I ever wished to acknowledge it. She accepted it, despite the fact that your father never will. And for that, I will always respect her.”

  He ran his fingers through my hair and leaned down to kiss me.

  At breakfast, I sat near the center of the table near one of the queen’s sisters, Anne, as the Prime Minister of Norway and Norvack sat opposite. I wasn’t in the mood for eating, mostly as the smell began to make me feel quite sick, and instead listened in as the king and queen dined on their food and chatted of the upcoming ceremony in honor of their wedding anniversary. The Prime Minister continued to make eyes at Anne as Norvack demanded more brandy in place of food. When he looked over at me and realized I wasn’t eating, he frowned and tapped the table with his fingers. I stared at him, smiling a little to signal that everything was fine, though it wasn’t, and he knew most of all.

  Turning away, I immediately caught the eye of the king, who glared at me as he stuffed another plump sausage into his mouth and washed it down with a goblet filled with water. I realized in that very moment, more than ever from the way he looked at me with such disgust, that I would never be forgiven for capturing the heart of one son and piercing the heart of another -- even if he was still unsure of the latter.

  But, he was sure. I knew he was. A man with no eyes could still see my guilt as it spread across my face like poison through veins.

  For so very long, all I could think was, why? Why did I go into the forest that night in search of food? Why near the palace of all places? Why didn’t I just keep running when I had the chance? Why was Willem out there? Why, why did he have to attack me? Why did I fight back -- what did I have to prove? And, to whom?

  But the questions no longer mattered, as the end result was never going to change and I knew it. I killed Willem. Not because I wished, but because I had no other choice. Or rather, I felt as if I had no other choice but to defend myself against him. A sword to his heart that night was the only way.

  The king began clacking his fork against his plate to capture everyone’s attention and cleared his throat. “Norvack,” he said gruffly. “I wish to inform you that you shall be welcoming another member into your court soon.”

  Norvack grunted and sat back in his chair. “Is this the politics portion of breakfast?” he asked. The king looked over at Eliza, who’s eyes shamefully traveled downward. “Father, I’m not in need of another member of my court.”

/>   “I am certain you are, son.”

  “I am certain I’m not, sir,” he snapped, his tone crisp and harsh. The king sat back in his chair and grinned. Norvack reached for his goblet, refusing to look into his father’s eyes. “I’m fresh out of room for anyone else. I have plenty of men willing to serve me as it is and I don’t believe I am in need of another.”

  Belarus roared. “My dear boy, your army won that war, not you.”

  Norvack glowered over the rim of his goblet and crinkled his eyes a little. He sat the goblet down and grit his teeth. “I don’t believe I have listened to this speech enough times,” he muttered. “Why not hear it once more, and before the Prime Minister this time?”

  Anne and the Prime Minister widened their eyes and focused down on their food.

  “Another man to stand at your side is needed,” said the king, “one in particular.”

  “I don’t believe that is true,” Norvack stated.

  “I. Do.”

  They stared at one another, neither willing to give in. Until Norvack finally picked up his napkin and wiped his face. He swallowed hard and nodded in a defeated manner.

  “Alright, father. You have chosen a man to join this army. Who might he be?”

  “General John Devereux.”

  I nearly choked on my water the moment that name left the king’s lips. The queen looked at me and soured, as did the king.

  I swallowed the remaining water as fast as I could and covered my mouth to cough. Then I glanced at the prince, who scrunched his face, but didn’t say a word to me. I sat my goblet down and coughed once more, looking away. Norvack returned facing his father, yet from the corner of my eye, I noticed him appearing both befuddled and aggravated by my actions.

  “Father, why in God’s name would the right hand man of the King of England betray his own in choosing to join my army?” he asked. “Is he aware of the repercussions against him? Against us? Are you?”

  “I am indeed quite aware, my son, as is he. The man is quite brave to leave his army of England behind in favor of joining ours.”

  “Or quite dim-witted, something of which I have always believed. And if I may ask, why exactly has he chosen to do so?”

  Belarus looked to the table, refusing to answer.

  Eliza arched her brows and looked over at her son. “The king bedded and impregnated his wife.” She took a sip of her water and eyed the king again in a strange manner. He nodded.

  “I see,” said Norvack. He glanced at me and opened his eyes wide. “I see, so instead of killing the king himself, thus risking his own life and those of his family, he leaves their army. Thus, risking his own life and those of his family.” He rattled his head, confused, and laughed to himself. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “Perhaps it is not meant for you to understand, my son. Perhaps it is only meant for you to accept.”

  He began rubbing his finger across his lip and squint. “Perhaps…. But what continues to remain odd to me, is that I don’t recall ever seeing this man on the field on the night of battle. He was not there to lead his men and yet he is the one you have chosen to stand beside me?”

  “His wife had just given birth to his first born son that night,” Belarus stated quickly.

  “His first born son.”

  “Yes,” Eliza chimed in. “As he believed the child to be at the time.”

  “My apologies, but what exactly is to keep the king from slaughtering this man before even leaving the grounds of the estate?” I asked. Everyone glared at me as if another head had just sprouted up from the side of my neck, but I continued on. “As Norvack stated, John Devereux is still risking his life and those of his loved ones in leaving and betraying not only his king, but his entire country! Not to mention, risking the lives of this family. Am I to believe that we are to remain safe despite this new development? Because I cannot imagine that anyone would just allow this man to walk away from his army to join the very enemy who recently defeated his kingdom.”

  “You have a lot to learn regarding the politics of this country, my dear. As well as others,” the king said, his tone deep and condescending.

  “I have a lot to learn? That wasn’t quite the answer I was expecting.”

  He smirked. “I’m aware.”

  I crinkled my eyes and glared into his. “There is something in this for you,” I stated.

  “Cinderella,” Eliza snapped under her breath.

  I never looked in her direction.

  “There is something,” I said again, “though I’m not quite sure what. But I am certain to find out.”

  “Are you?” He tossed a piece of fruit into his mouth and sat back, his reaction, smug.

  “Yes. You are much too calm and completely collected regarding this decision. The enemy camp has infiltrated and you are practically gleeful over it.”

  “He shall not harm anyone within or outside the walls of this palace, unless necessary.”

  I paused, realizing he meant me.

  “If that man arrives to this palace alive and well and not dead on the back of a horse from a sword through his chest, courtesy of his own men, within the next twenty-four hours then I am to assume it’s because of a deal he made with the devil.”

  “And which devil would that be, my dear?” he asked.

  “Is it safer to ask me again in twenty-four hours?”

  “It may not be.” He winked at me and began caressing his beard. “Make no assumptions regarding this man or my decision to bring him into this palace, Cinderella.”

  “Or force him onto your only son.”

  “Or force him onto my only son,” he repeated through gritted teeth.

  I looked around as everyone continued to stare at me in silence and awe.

  “Well. I shall never assume with you again, fair king.” I exhaled, irritated, and pushed back from the table. “Excuse me.” I stood and placed my napkin upon my plate. Norvack stood as well, but the king remained seated, only glowering at me.

  “Where are you -- ?” Norvack began.

  “I plan to walk the gardens with Brigita this morning.”

  “We haven’t finished breakfast,” said Eliza.

  “I’m quite finished,” I shouted back as I exited the room.

  As I headed back to my chambers, I grabbed my stomach with one hand and my head with the other. The name ‘John Devereux’ began whirling and swirling around inside my mind like a worm in a puddle of mud, making me feel even more sickened than I was, while simultaneously providing me with the worst headache I had ever experienced in life. When I finally reached my room, I saw Brigita reaching for something in the closet near the bed. She jumped a little when she realized I had entered, then grew concerned when she noticed the horror-struck look on my face.

  She dropped whatever was in her hands onto the bed and rushed over to me, taking my hands and staring down at them. Her eyes wiggled a little and she shook her head.

  “Cinder,” she said, her voice panicked, rattling. “My God, your hands are as cold as ice! As if the blood has been drained from your veins.” She looked into my eyes and frowned. “What happened down there this morning?”

  I yanked my hands from hers and went over to the mirror to look at myself. I blinked hard a few times as I barely recognized my own features. My normally olive toned skin looked practically drained of color. My eyes were bloodshot, my hair a mess, my pupils expanded. I reached for my head again, dropping my other hand to the table and leaning forward.

  “John Devereux,” I muttered.

  Brigita came up and moved her head about. “What?”

  “John Devereux!” I hollered.

  I stood straight and turned toward the ceiling. Tears immediately filled my eyes, but I tried blinking them away before they could stream down either side of my face.

  Brigita pursed her lips and backed away from me.

  “God, I’m sorry,” I told her, my voice rattling as the tears fell. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, not at you.”


  “It’s alright,” she assured me in a soft tone. “You said Devereux? The General? As in the man appointed by the current King of England himself, as his right hand?”

  “Yes. Belarus has demanded that Norvack take another member into his court and has chosen him to join, presumably as the prince’s right hand.”

  She knit her brows. “How is it possible to remove him from his current position? Why would he wish to step down and join a lesser army? No affront against the prince, however.”

  “No affront… I don’t know.” I moved around her, gliding toward the bed. “But in truth, it doesn’t matter,” I answered. I wiped my face of tears and breathed out in an attempt to regain composure. “None of it seems to matter as he shall be here soon enough to make trouble for us all.”

  “Why do you say that, Cinder? You speak as if you know him personally -- what he’s about.”

  I looked at her from the corner of my eye, then darted my eyes around the room. I chewed the inside of my cheek and tapped the head of my foot against the floor. I could feel Brigita move in behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look into her eyes again.

  “Cinder?” she asked. “Do you know him personally?”

  “No.”

  “Cinder--”

  “Please don’t ask me this.” I turned away and grabbed onto the center of the wooden bedpost. I clutched my stomach again and shut my eyes, squeezing tight as the tears began to flood once more.

  “Cin--” She touched my back and I jumped, but she didn’t move. She slid her fingers down my spine a little, and then pulled back. “How would you have ever come across this man? Were you ever in England?”

  “No. I met him when I was sixteen.” I dropped to the bed. “Do you recall a time when the General traveled to Denmark on some mission for his king?”

  “Perhaps, but it was so long ago.”