The Usurper's Queen | COMPLETED

01 | the duke of cindertrappe

     ONE SUMMER DAY, all the nobles of the kingdom were summoned to court for a grand occasion, and that included my own family, the Winterbournes. My mother had arranged for Lisbeth and I to be clothed in the finest fashion, with gowns of silk brocade and tall hennins with white veils that flowed down our backs.

     Perhaps to the king, it was a simple feast with his subjects in attendance, but in the eyes of my parents, the Earl and Countess, every single public appearance was tied to our family's honour. Every article of clothing that we wore would be under scrutiny, and every word we spoke could be interpreted in a hundred ways. This, I soon realised, was the world of court politics.

When it came time to greet the Queen, I noticed that she was cradling a small bundle in her arms, and she held it so close to her chest as if her entire life depended on it.

It was a tiny baby, swaddled in cloth woven with gold, and I could see tufts of blonde hair peeking through the cloth. That little boy is the king's long-awaited heir, and my mother is disappointed that the queen had not popped out yet another girl.

My Lady Mother's greatest pleasure was the misfortune of others, and the fact that the Queen had finally gotten a son greatly displeased her. If the Queen were to fall from her high pedestal, then my mother would be the happiest woman in the entire world.

    I sometimes wondered if my mother is the incarnation of Eris, the Greek goddess of discord.

Once the pleasantries were all done and dealt with, we were seated at a long table that stretched from one end of the room to the other. In front of me was a spread of dishes and delicacies from all four corners of the kingdom, such as horse meat from the north, berries and apples from the east, beef and mutton from the west, and honey and spices from the south, where I was from.

Before we dined, however, the king stood up from his seat, his hand holding onto a goblet of wine.

    "Good people of Phoenicia, this is truly the most joyous day of my reign. After fifteen years, I have finally been blessed with a son. An heir. The future king of this blessed kingdom! I raise a toast to the longevity of Prince George!"           
He raised the goblet of wine in the air, and the rest of the nobility followed suit, echoing, "For Prince George!"

I stared at the goblet of watered-down grape wine in my hand, and reluctantly I chugged it down.

     "However, that is not the only happy news that I would like to announce. It has come to my attention that the Marquis of Lansbury's daughter, Lady Grace Ainsworth, has grown to fancy the son of the Earl of Aldridge, Lord Benedict Moreau! As a gift for my dear sister-in-law, I shall issue a decree for marriage between these two."

I found the usage of 'happy' rather misleading. Other than Lady Grace Ainsworth herself, I saw nobody who was pleased by this news. My mother's face had darkened instantly, and her eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. I then turned around to look at my cousin Benedict, who was staring agape at the King, his face pale white.

The Earl of Aldridge was my uncle, my mother's elder brother, and Lady Mother had ensured that we had a very good relationship with the Moreau family.

      Benedict is not exactly my favourite cousin -- I felt that he was too rough and boisterous to become friends with, but his sister Corinne, whom I was rather close with, always assured me that Benny had a good heart underneath all that tough exterior.

Despite her constant reassurance, I was not fooled. If someone is truly a good person, then why would there be a need to assert that fact to everyone? People will be able to tell themselves.

Lady Grace Ainsworth, who was sitting by Queen's side, was blushing furiously, her round cheeks as red as a rose in full bloom. She was a great and renowned beauty, just like her sister, the Queen.