The First Queen (Currently Being Updated)

Chapter 3

Potrait of Katarina on the right.

"That wasn't necessary," chided Buckingham as we were left in the privacy of my office.

"Which part? Me getting into that man's head that I don't want to be married or that I basically told all my ambassadors that you have been sleeping around," I countered, making him silent for a while.

"The former," he said quietly.

"Damn right it was necessary! After all these years that we've known each other, surely you didn't expect me to endure such talk. I am fully aware that I must have an heir, but right now, I am more concerned about my country being torn apart!"

All he did was give me a frustrated sigh as he knelt down before me while I sat in my seat.

"You are right, Eleanor, but you must be rational. This new king of Torva may not even be like James at all. We have to take this step by step. He could either be as dumb as mule or a fearsome as his grandfather."

I nodded, feeling a shiver run down my spine at the thought of King Leon, the Merciless. He was more infamous than his son, the Dragon, would ever be. Buckingham gave my hand a light squeeze, bringing me back to reality before he left the room, leaving me in the necessary silence I needed.

Silence can be comforting, but it can be just as dreadful. It was comforting me with a kind of serenity that I hadn't felt in a long time, but it made me dread the possibility of war, and a test to see how fit I am to be a lone queen.

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It has been a week since the Torvan messenger came and went. By now I was nervous because now I think that Francis will not even try to make an appearance, let alone give me an answer. I was even beginning to wonder what he looks like. Was he tall? Did he have eyes that seem to hold you in a trance? Or is a womanizer? That is what scares me about being with someone: that they could easily turn their back on you. If I were to be married, I would rather that I get a divorce simply from not getting along rather than him sleeping around. Sleeping around would make me and most certainly all women ask themselves "What did I do wrong?"

I remember my mother and father, how they would argue all through the night at times that our governess had to take us away quietly before things got worse. I believe I was eleven, and we were all seated at dinner. Like any other family, my father sat at the head of table, with me to his left and my mother and brother to his right. Everything was going well, which was rare, until my brother asked my father if he could company him and me to battle. Hard to believe that the heir, the future king had not yet been to battle but his sister, a girl, had already been. I looked at my father for his reaction, for any movement in his solemn face, but all he said in a monotone voice was "When you are ready . . ."

Katarina slammed her knife against her porcelain plate, making both me and my brother jump a little. "When he's ready?" she screamed.

"For the love of God, control yourself, woman!" This was the first time father ever raised his voice at Katarina when they argued at the dinner table.

"Control myself? My son is to be king, but instead you take her," she said disgustingly as she pointed to me, "to battle, have her wield a sword, and master hand-to-hand combat! She is a girl! She is meant to wear dresses of silk and jewels of great worth! The moment she was born I knew that she would never listen to me!"

At that moment, my father shot up from his seat, looking Katarina dead in the eye. "She is our daughter, Katarina, and don't you ever forget it. When she came screaming into this world I could never forget the look of horror on your face when you saw she was no he. I knew at that moment that you would leave her to be neglected. Eleanor is as much your child as is Darien, just she has seen the world we live in while you cage that boy up in luxury, keeping him a realm of pretensions. And for a girl of merely eleven, I am proud to say that I am her father and that she has my love. So long as she has the love the King, she is loved by all. Unless you, Katarina, are King, then you have the power to turn Eleanor's life into turmoil. So long as I am alive, you shall do her no harm. You have consumed Darien into your world of luxury that I have not the time to devote to him as I give to Eleanor. So don't you dare blame this upon me, Katarina. This is all you."

The one phrase that I can pull out vividly from that moment was when Katarina said "my son," not "our son." I still wonder at the notion from time to time. Sometimes I think the worse, which she possibly could have . . . no, that is forbidden and absolutely unlawful, but it was possible.

Now one might ask what happened to Katarina, and I will say this: that woman who gave me life was just about ready to kill herself when finding out that I was to be the heir after Darien was banished. At my father's funeral, she hardly wept a tear; at my coronation, she had to hold in her despise and anger and everyone else is the room gleamed in joy at their new ruler. Now, she lives in a private wing of the palace in which she is cared for. Although she is the Queen Mother, she would do anything in her power to see Darien on the throne; who knows, maybe her wish might actually come true.

Right now, I found myself walking slowly through the Portraits Hall, with paintings of the Alagorian kings, queens, princes and princesses adorned on either side. My guards trailed behind me, but at a distance to be give me space. I stopped in front of that of my father, Richard the Wise. He was wise, always looking over the situation at hand from both perspectives. And he was a great father, or in my eyes he was. Next to him was that of Katarina dressed in her coronation gown. I will admit, this mother of mine was beautiful, but looks can be deceiving. From stories I heard from my Lady Harper and my other older ladies, they heard of how Katarina was sometimes called Helen of Troy, for her face, like Helen's, could launch a thousand ships. Really, in my opinion, I would launch a thousand ships away from her, certainly not to her. Next to her's was my brother, Darien. He was a handsome man, I won't lie about that. But, like his mother, I'm sorry, our mother, he loved to flaunt around a new woman at his side almost every week. He would take her to bed, have his fun, and find a new toy to play with. It was then that I came to no longer see him as a playmate and sibling, but as someone who repelled me in all aspects. However, Next to my father, to my right, was my coronation portrait. I don't mean to brag but I looked beautiful. Or at least I did five years ago. Now, I'm sure that all the stress had come to take a toll not only my person but on my beauty as well. But nothing ever stays, the same, now does it?

The sound of the double doors opening at the end of the hall drew my attention away from the paintings. Buckingham came in with a rush, giving me a hasty bow were pulling me gently to the side.

"What is it," I said. "Why are you in a rush? What had happened?"

"The King of Torva, Francis. He had agreed to come in person to Alendar. He will be here in four days' time."