24 | iris

938 65 6
                                    

1711, Lavilia Perra, Kestramore City

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

1711, Lavilia Perra, Kestramore City

Julian resisted the urge to vomit when he saw the blue and black corpse of what would have been his little cousin, swaddled in a cotton blanket.

The little babe had already formed, her limbs and fingers were perfectly intact. Julian could see her eyelids too, but he knew that they would never open.

             "I have drained a vial of her blood and sent it over to Avionne for the Grand Tutor to examine," said Tristan de Fontaine, the son of Evain de Fontaine, Duke of Esterdel. "Whatever the result may be, I believe we can all agree that the perpetrator indeed wanted her to suffer an agonizing death. Don't you think so, Your Highness ?"

Julian quietly nodded. The entire situation was greatly tragic, terrifying even.

Upon hearing that his wife and unborn child were dead, Prince John went into a catatonic state, and he has yet to recover from it.

Julian could not imagine what it was like to be in Prince John's shoes. If the one that he loved had suffered such a horrible death, he would have gone mad too.

             "Your Highness, if you don't mind me asking, will the Choosing Ceremony still be continued even after this terrible tragedy ?" Tristan suddenly asked.

Tristan de Fontaine was only at the tender age of seventeen, but he had developed a chilling maturity, one that was absent from his older cousin, Catarina. Tristan had chosen to study medicine, and after years of witnessing all sorts of injuries and atrocities, it was no wonder why he was so unfazed by all this.

However, Julian could still detect the concern in his voice when he mention about the ceremony.

                "My mother, the Queen is the one who handles that matter. I have no say in it."

Tristan's dark eyes narrowed with annoyance. "No say in it? I thought the entire ceremony was held precisely for you to pick a bride. We wouldn't want them to fall dead one by one, would we ?"

               "The wellbeing of the ladies are very heavily monitored, Master de Fontaine. You must not worry," Julian tried to reassure, but Tristan was having none of it.

               "Your Highness, it seems that you are lacking a spine. Figuratively, of course. How will you rule a kingdom when you do not have the courage to assert your own power? Will you be sleeping by your mother's bosom for the rest of your life ?"

Julian stared at Tristan in shock, stunned by his audacity. Of course, Tristan de Fontaine was not the first one who commented about his apparent spinelessness, but he was the first to say it to his face.

               "You are overstepping your boundaries, Master de Fontaine-"

               "I am merely giving you advice. If you ever hope to marry my cousin, then it is crucial that you grow a spine and learn to rule your own heart. Catarina is sweet and naïve-- she would not know that someone is plotting her death until she lays cold in her grave. Your cowardice and her naiveté is a recipe for disaster."

Catarina and The Prince | Tales From The Court Of Ravaeryn #1Where stories live. Discover now