The Usurper's Queen | COMPLETED

14 | the anointed one

The longer I stayed there, the more it became apparent that Edmund was only lenient on Lacey due to her sudden episodes of insanity and pitied her, but I wondered if she was truly crazy. He allowed her to come and go as she pleased, and my patience was wearing thin with each passing day. She would suddenly throw herself on him, but it was always when I was present, and she feigned illnesses three times a day. With the amount of times she had fevers in a week, I am surprised she had not dropped dead yet.

Claudie however, was an absolute sweetheart and she made living there bearable. She would accompany me in the evenings, and she always had a compliment to give. Her son Edgar was a literal ball of happiness, but Anna-Maria was much more reserved and serious.

I remember going downstairs one day, only to see Edgar crying on the floor while Anna-Maria stood beside him indignantly with her arms crossed.

"Apologise to your brother, Anna," Claudie urged, while Edgar sobs become even louder.

"No," Anna-Maria said simply while looking away. Claudie took a deep breath and smiled bitterly, and said, "You called him stupid, Anna. It made him very sad, so you should apologise."

"But he is stupid, Mama!" Anna-Maria protested.

Claudie looked as if she wished the Earth to open up and swallow her whole, and Edgar wailed even more. "Please Anna. Apologise to your brother," she said through gritted teeth.

Anna-Maria let out a sigh, as if it were a mere inconvenience and turned towards Edgar and said this in his face, "I'm sorry that you're stupid, Edgar."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, and Edgar's cries echoed throughout the halls like a banshee's wail. Claudie was already seated on the floor as she stared at her two children in exasperation. I could see that she was not the type to scold her children, but I would do it immediately if they were my children. I found Edgar's cries annoying, so I ordered a servant to escort them both back to their rooms.

"Are you alright, Claudie?" I asked her cautiously. Her back was facing me, and I could not see her face, but when she eventually turned around, I could see tear tracks on her face, and her nose had become red.

"Yes, yes, of course, Anne," she stammered and hastily stood up. "It's a good thing that you sent those pesky brats away, they're very loud, aren't they? I shall get some tea for you, Anne. It is very cold today."

"I'd prefer it if we could have tea together, if you don't mind that is," I quickly interjected, and panic flashed in Claudie's eyes, but she immediately recollected herself and smiled charmingly.

"Yes, of course Anne," she replied, the tremor in her voice barely audible.

In several minutes, we were already in the sitting room, sipping on black tea while awkwardly staring at each other. It was at this moment that I recalled about my father's words, about the scar that Anna-Claudia had. However, when I looked at her, her skin was perfectly smooth and unblemished.

"Do you miss your husband, Claudie?" I asked her, and she smiled bitterly while putting her teacup down.

"I don't know, Anne. He did not love me, and I did not love him. But he did respect me and treat me well, so that is more than enough," Claudie sighed.

"I was told that Philippe de Beauchamp was one of the richest men in all of Terrawyn. Is that true?" I asked again.

"Yes, but initially, no. When I first married him, he was the youngest son of a mere baron, and then his two brothers were accused of embezzling tax incomes by the Royal Court, and were sentenced to death. With difficulty, he held onto his father's title, and later when his cousin died childless, he inherited the Dukedom of Irakli, making me a duchess. We had great wealth at that time, and he invited a famous physician over to fix this scar on my face," she said, pointing at a faint white mark right underneath her eye.

"I had hoped that he would finally love me, as I was now beautiful, but he never did. My husband Philippe gave me everything I wanted, but not love. After Edgar and Anna-Maria were born, he never visited me in my chambers and would sleep in his study room. Sometimes I go inside, and I see him falling asleep next to a heap of golden coins he had been counting. When I tried to advise him to stop, he would berate me. He said that he did it all for his family, for me and the kids. But I never would've thought that the King wanted to seize all that hard-earned wealth to himself. He accused Philippe of embezzlement and tried to kick us out of our own home, but my husband fought back. We barricaded our home and left quietly, but we were ambushed. They cut off his head and put in on a pike, while I managed to escape with the kids. I shall never forgive the Terrawinians for what they had done to Philippe, especially that pitiful excuse of a King. When Edmund ascends the throne, I want him to crush that kingdom and burn it to the ground."

Claudie's usually cheerful smile was replaced with a vengeful sneer, and her calm eyes were filled with so much loathing. Although she was sweet in nature, no woman could remain the same after watching her own husband being beheaded before her very eyes. And despite claiming not to love Philippe at all, Claudie's grief seems to tell otherwise.

"The Terrawinians do not know this, but my husband had kept only one-eighth of our wealth in our manor. The rest are scattered throughout the kingdom, and only I know the locations as of now. One day, my children shall retrieve it," she declared determinedly. Her eyes then misted over and her nose became even redder. "Perhaps then, I can bring my mother out from exile."

"The Dowager Princess Anna-Sophia?" I questioned. My father had mentioned her once, that she was the daughter of a mere knight who managed to make a prince fall for her. In his words, the dowager princess was a woman with such insurmountable beauty, and every man who saw her would gape in awe. She supposedly had long, cascading red hair that fell down to her ankles, wheat coloured skin and eyes the colour of a grass field during the height of spring.

"Yes," Claudie murmured. "It has been fifteen years since I last saw her. I once begged my husband to save my mother, but he has no power here in Phoenicia. Even Edmund is unable to find her whereabouts. I'm afraid that-"

She was unable to finish her sentence and broke into a sob. I was unused to comforting people, so I could only awkwardly stare at her while she tried to compose herself. "That is why I pray for the day Edward finally croaks, so that my brother will be king. He has wrongfully taken that position from my father, framed him in death, and look what has happened to him! His heir died, and his queen took her own life! It is divine punishment!"

At that moment, I wondered. When two different sides of the war pray for their victories, who would God choose? Would it be the more virtuous one? But King Edward was far from a saint, and many had died at the hands of my betrothed. The side that wins does not matter, in the end it is the people who will suffer. I was born into wealth and nobility, and the power to rule others was thrust into my hands. People were to bow down to me, but as a fellow human being, what right did I have to order them to bow? Who was I to decide their lives for them?