CHAPTER 4: Throne Of Blood
Lillemor was rereading the scrolls once again.
The one containing all the rules that didn't sit well with her.
How every princess ought not to be queen, how all those captured from the enemies' land were sold as slaves, how same sex relationships were strictly forbidden, how the male gender was deemed dominant and how women were heavily undermined and critically exploited, how midwives were underpaid, how girls were not allowed to join the army, how the poor paid more taxes, and most especially, how witches were hung and burnt.
She cringed the same time the door was pushed open and none other than Peter barged into her bedroom.
"Please tell me you've heard of the tragic news, Lillemor", he flustered, rushing to her.
She looked at him, confused.
"You haven't?", he looked at her.
Lillemor shook her head.
"What?!", Peter raged. "Your the princess of this goddamn Kingdom, Lillemor. You ought to know first!"
"What do you mean? It's not like anybody bothers to tell me anything, Petey. Now what's the news? Why so hyped?"
"Really?", he shook her to confirm.
"I swear I don't know a thing, Petey", she said.
"For sure??", he asked again and she nodded. "Because I prayed to all the gods and goddesses of Salem that you had nothing to do with it, Lillemor."
"Just tell me what the fuck happened-"
"Your father is dead, Lillemor!"
She froze.
'Of course he is, I killed him', she almost blurted but held herself.
Lillemor's composure stiffened, not from shock but from helplessly fighting the urge to let her mask slip in front of the person she had no reason to lie to.
Peter had his eyes pointed to her, as if weighing her on a balance, trying to measure if she was saying the truth or not.
Her face was giving her away ... slowly.
She wished to cover it.
She could already guess what was awaited on the other end ...
Would he be mad at her? Will he throw a crazy tantrum, wail, and then go out and announce her as the murderer?
It was sort of saddening that all this time she never had trouble questioning her best friend's trust ... until now.
She feared him for leaving her as much as she feared her own sense of mistrust.
An awful news meant to bring her down but, Peter among all people knew how much the princess abhorred her father so he shouldn't be surprised.
"Lillemor ..."
She was dragged out of reality to find herself in front of a teary eyed Peter.
"Peter ...", she mumbled back, but lowly, fearing her contentment would give her away. Heck, it was more than just mere contentment.
All thanks to the death of a certain King.
"You didn't ...", he held his breath, praying that he wasn't seeing in her eyes what he was seeing.
No sense of guilt.
Once Lillemor didn't cry with him, he was now certain. Assured of his presumption. I mean, it shouldn't have taken him much that the second he heard the news.
If it was murder there was only one single person who despised the King's guts painfully enough to put him to his grave, in his place, where he belonged.
He had guessed it right, he realized.
"It's your father, Lillemor", he finally let the tears slip. He hated himself for having remorse on the wicked man who tortured his best friend for a lifetime. But to Lillemor, Peter was just an over-kind boy with a heart too sweet not to pity an enemy.
She understood and knew him inside out, as much as the boy hated it.
"He is not my father", more confusion.
"Well, I guess not anymore", Peter sniffed, wiping his face with the palm of his hand. "... He is dead, Lillemor."
She was calm.
Calmer than he anticipated her to be.
But maybe that's how murders felt, how would he know?
Lillemor just stood there, still, frozen ... Watching her best friend cry his eyes away.
She really didn't know what to do with crying boys, she wished Easton was here with them, he would've known what to do. He always knew what to do when it came to Peter, and it made Lillemor feel like a bad friend sometimes but it was just how she was.
"What's going to happen now?", Peter choked on a sob and she moved forward to hug him. She saw Easton do that once, and it sort of worked in easing Peter down. She prayed it would work for she hated seeing her best friend crying. One of the reason he killed the old man was because he wanted poor Peter to be happy.
She wanted to buy his freedom ...
with blood.
"Is he really dead?", she asked in a stiffled whisper, not believing it.
It took a while for Peter to answer.
Lillemor needed an affirmation about this, and he knew he had to give it to her. Albeit he still couldn't believe that Lillemor could do such a thing.
... Maybe he underestimated her power.
Maybe they all did.
Despite the countless times she made dangerous decisions without a second thought, he couldn't believe it would shock him that she could kill the King.
Like really really kill him.
This wasn't someone else, this was the same girl he befriended.
"Yes", he pulled back from the embrace. "He was pronounced dead this morning after his personal servant found him on bed with a bleeding wound on his chest. They are saying it's a murder."
The princess couldn't even find words to say.
The expression clearly portrayed how out of air she was.
"Lord Umayr beckoned you to his presence at the throne, you're expected to arrive forthwith."
She looked at him before picking up her voice.
"You can go, Peter", she cleared.
He wondered if he should play dumb and ask 'where to?'
But he knew better to know what she was talking about.
"You and Easton can go over and do whatever you like. You can leave the palace.", she felt the need to clarify.
"No-"
"Yes", her voice desperate. "You can move to a far away land like you've always wished to. I don't need a saviour any longer, Petey. You guys can go. There's nothing holding you back anymore, the King is dead ... I killed him."
"Lillemor, we can't-"
"Yes, you can. I command you to."
Without farther explanation about what was going to happen with Umayr, Peter excused himself out.
Then he stopped at the door, conflicted.
"You are the best best friend I have ever had ... and I can do anything but forget you", it was at the door where he couldn't help the smile that crept up his face. "I love you, Lillemor ..."
Lillemor faintly glowed on the face.
"I pray the gods guide the two of you to safety", She calmly muttered, blessing him. "To a land of milk and life like honey."
"I'll always will ...", he cried from exhilaration.
He didn't need to make clear that there was no place to go, that he and Easton had nothing in mind despite the countless of times they had thought of eloping.
All he knew was that ... He should go.
He was going to go.
And that was the only promise he made with the other boy.
As long as they were together, they could find somewhere where their hearts would live and rest in peace.
And that's all assurance he needed to rush out of her best friend's presence and find his prince.
This was his golden chance.
Once the boy disappeared
... It was quiet.
Lillemor stood stuck for a moment ...
before a silent smile shifted her stout face.
The King was dead.
The King was finally dead.
She knew once the King was done she had yet another target ...
Umayr.
Another irritating pest.
The King's assistant and sole advisor, another imbecile who was now second to none.
And Lillemor was more than just prepared, for he was her favorite enemy considering the countless times he took advantage of her when her father wasn't around. Not like he could save her if he was around either way.
And nothing bothered her now,
for she didn't need any prince charming to save her.
She could save herself.