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A night of rebellion

Historical / Thriller novel. The story is set in England around the early 1700s. A special, beautiful girl is born within the walls of Warwick Castle. But nobody really knows about the mask of falsehood with which this perfect girl manages to hide a much sadistic and mysterious character. A series of cold-blooded murders begin to become the norm at court, or at least until .... Book suitable for thriller lovers and for people not easily impressionable Suited to an adult or 14+ public

Smiley_Lux · Histoire
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164 Chs

The council

Prince Henry, in the company of his cousin Juniper and the private convoy of the Dustin house had managed from Perth to reach Edinburgh before night fell on the lands of Scotland.

It was strange for him to be here, in the north, where he had been only once, as a child.

He was born and raised at the royal court, yes, but for his father, Scotland had never been such a great goal as the safeguarding of England itself.

He had always been his aim, after all, to maintain an alliance with those lands and if he hadn't arranged his younger sister's marriage, Juniper would not even have been born, or at that moment he would not be there to rule over an entire barony.

Henry remembered his aunt very well.

The prince remembered she had blond, golden hair, like all Hannovers, she had two big light blue eyes and was only twenty-five when she was murdered.

She was a good person, Ella Hannover, she bore a great resemblance to Juniper and he remembered, partially, that she loved horse riding and archery.

It was a pity that she had had to end her years of fun by marrying a man who was already forty-five years older than her, but that was life, people died early and as already experienced by the nobles, those who did not kill were killed.

In any case, never in his mind could he imagine in the North so many forests of firs and evergreen trees, beautiful and mighty, which despite the snow kept their leaves of a bright green color.

They had passed through the countryside for that stretch of land, where only few peasant towns were here and there, in a very rural environment.

He knew that the majority of upper-class people were in more populous places like Edinburgh or Glasgow and certainly not in a little town like Kennet or Plains, where the Hayes family dominated.

It was a bit so in the North, like a beehive, the Whiteblossom generally ruled and the existence of small noble families was felt in smaller areas.

Edinburgh was beautiful, huge and surrounded by high walls.

It was the capital of Scottish beauty, religion, art and history.

Populated by thousands of inhabitants, whose living conditions seemed somewhat decent as to belong to the lower aristocracy.

The children played on the stony streets, chasing their light wooden circles, which they rotated with a long and flexible stick, while most of the girls assisted their mothers in their daily chores.

All those little ones were dressed so neatly and impeccably that they immediately gave the prince the impression of having young lords and ladies in front of him.

Boys already had the so-known "white wigs" to cover their natural hair from the age of five, while girls' hair was braided into long braids down their small backs or into a small and neat bun on the head.

Henry loved children, he admired their playfulness, sincerity, the love that they were able to give only with a smile, he was already fond of them as little people of his new kingdom.

All those children, in the long and stony streets of the city reminded him of Philip, his son.

Knowing Kara, she would by then already be furious with Henry, knowing that he had lied to her and ran away but he was also sure that at that time she would take good care of their boy.

What most struck the prince in all that new and unknown environment was actually the fortress of Edinburgh, which stood out on a hill above the entire city.

It was large, majestic, beautiful, so much so that it looked like a real royal palace.

That mighty, magnificent fortress was for generations the birthplace of Barons and Baronesses dedicated to controlling the lands of the North.

It was almost unimaginable that his cousin was born and raised there, in that beautiful place, which did not look anything like crowded London or even little Warwick.

It was freer, greener, wilder, the people seemed not to suffer from poverty and to rebel against the Baron.

Isabelle had everything wrong in governing, he had realised from the first moment, how she had followed in the tyrannical footsteps of their father.

But even if it was true that years before the king had died due to poisoned food, the prince was also aware that his younger half-sister, who in those years had enjoyed killing and ruling with an iron fist would have met the same end.

The Hannovers were mad, or so were most of them as offsprings of consanguinity.

Everyone in their family possessed an innate and distinct beauty, which however did not always match the sanity of each of them.

Every time a member of the royal house was born there was to pray that for the two possibilities it had not inherited the genetic madness that ran in that family.

It was precisely in order to make this problem less, that in the last three generations of royalty, they had always tried to combine them with families who came from other nations.

So he was an example for his father and his mother, one being English and the other French.

That despite not having led to a just end of marriage, following the divorce and beheading of Eleanor, the whole thing had worked as his father had managed to have a son who apparently did not share his same obsessive and tyrannical anger.

For his cousin Juniper had been the same as his mother Ella, although she was still a girl, she had been granted in marriage to the Baron of Scotland.

This, however, had led to the birth of his cousin who apparently also had a very mixed and varied genetic composition.

The carriage had stopped.

Henry still didn't understand why he cared so much about Isabelle, he thought, there was no pity for the enemy, not even in war, not even if she was part of his family.

He imagined, however, from that fateful autumn day of 1716, in which ten-year-old Henry had his little half-sister Isabelle placed in his arms, that baby: a small scrawl, still covered and smelling of blood from childbirth, he had repudiated her since the beginning.

He hated her, not for what she did, nor for the magnificent way in which the princess had turned into a young lady, but rather, because from her birth, from the first time that baby girl was placed in his arms, the prince had immediately perceived the trail of death that that child would have brought.

Henry got out of the carriage when it was already six in the afternoon, he took his first steps on the white and gravelly ground.

The sky above him had begun to take on a dark blue color, accompanied, behind the mountains by the bright pink color of the sunset.

He was as happy to be there as he was afraid, for himself, for his life.

He knew Juniper would protect him, but someone would not always be there for him to be able to save him from every hardship in life, neither he, nor Kara, nor anyone else.

He noticed with great amazement in his eyes that that day, in that place, not only he had met his cousin after so long, but also that his other cousin was waiting there in that place.

He recognised him, by the short golden hair, by his dark grey eyes, by the guard uniform that he wore on his body.

How could he not recognise him? How could he not remember him?

-J...John?- came out almost as a question from the thin and pale lips of the prince -John Hannover?-.

Henry perceived a smile on the face of the other, who was close to him, he felt his arms tighten around his neck hugging him strongly.

-Henry Hannover, Prince of France I suppose...how could you not write to me all this time?-.

The prince smiled, he was embarrassed by that question, he and his cousin John were after all the same age, in their childhood they had been playmates within the castle walls.

That conference seemed to have become a family meeting, as, in the same place and moment between cousins, one with the other had had the opportunity to meet again.

Their parents were all siblings and in the generation preceding theirs they were also princes and princesses of England.

Henry's father was obviously the eldest, as the firstborn he had managed to keep the throne and power away from his siblings. Ernest Hannover, John's father, was second in line of succession, actually still alive but at the behest of the British crown lowered to the rank of duke.

The third and last of their parents was the deceased Princess Ella Hannover, mother of Juniper, in life a magnificent girl and archer.

Then as fourth prince there was Georg Hannover, Ella's twin and last of the four siblings.

-I arrived here as soon as possible knowing of your presence at the conference, I could not wait ...- John tried to explain with as much empathy and affection as possible, keeping both his hands fixed on the prince's shoulders.

Henry was happy, satisfied, to know that even in his native land there was someone who still appreciated him and was currently happy to meet him again after such a long time.

-How come, in any case, the eldest son of a duke to find himself wearing a military uniform, has my sister perhaps decided to apply a change to the rules of the crown?- Henry asked curiously and at the same time amazed by the "red uniform" that John wore, typical of the high level guards of the British Empire.

-Isabelle led my family to ruin, she gave me two choices, the red jacket or being sentenced to death as an "enemy of the crown"-.