Chapter 90: Fate has no Reprieve

This week's chapter name is a quote from Euripides

Chapter 90:

Fate has no Reprieve

Charlotte turned as she heard a shallow knock at her bedroom door. She pulled her silken robe across her chest as she said, "Come in." As she stepped away from the window, pelts of rain fell down the window until they disappeared into the sill.

A maid opened the door, curtsying as she saw Charlotte standing, waiting for her, "I apologize, Your Highness. I did not realize you were awake."

"Of course I am," Charlotte said, absentmindedly pushing her brown hair behind her shoulder as she turned away from the maid and sat down on the edge of the bed, stretching her small feet out in front of her, "It's a very important day, after all."

"Yes, Your Highness. The other maids will be here very soon to help you dress for today's ball. Would you like me to prepare you something to drink or eat while you wait?"

"A cup of tea." Charlotte said, turning her head towards the curtsying maid.

"Right away, Your Highness." The maid curtseyed again before promptly leaving the room. Charlotte pondered what the maid's name was, remembering she had said it once or twice to Charlotte in passing, but Charlotte could not remember.

Didn't it start with an "E"? Or was it an "A"?

Another knock on the door caught Charlotte's attention, pulling her out of her thoughts before her knight opened the door, ducking his head under the short door frame as he entered the room.

"You're late." Charlotte noted as she turned her head forward, taking her gaze to the window, where rain was still heavily pelting the glass, smacking the surface of the glass pane with loud, tink-ing splats.

"I apologize, Your Majesty." Basch gruffly said, bowing his head with a nod before he resumed his normal, straight posture.

"Nevermind. Did you hear anything?" Her tone was even, but her hands clenched her bedspread, wrinkling the expensive satin as she looked forward anxiously, anticipating the news she had long been waiting for.

"He met with the queen last night. It seems it was finally decided."

"And?"

"I'm sorry. It was impossible to get close enough to hear."

Charlotte sighed in frustration, bringing her fingers up to her downturned mouth as she roughly bit the skin of her fingers mindlessly, her teeth threatening to tear the soft, delicate skin of her fingers.

"Please don't do that, Princess Charlotte." The knight protested, yet his voice was relaxed, unconcerned. He did not raise his hand to stop her.

"Don't chastise me!" Charlotte snapped, dropping her reddened hand to her side as she whipped her head towards her knight, "If you had done your job, I wouldn't be so anxious!" Her voice was not loud, but the tone was biting, carrying a fierceness that would make a person's scalp go numb.

The bedroom door was again knocked on, and another maid announced her presence.

"Get out. I'm going to get changed." Charlotte said coldly, refusing to look at her knight as she rose to her feet and smoothed out her nightgown and chiffon peignoir. The knight bowed and left, his aloof attitude annoying Charlotte immensely as maids poured into the room.

"Your Highness, we would like to help you prepare." One of the head maids said with a deep curtsy. Charlotte nodded her head, suddenly tired, so she let the maids guide her forward gently by her arms as they placed a seat out for her.

"How are the other candidates?" Charlotte asked nonchalantly, closing her eyes as her hair was splayed against her back by a skillful maid.

"I believe they are now being assisted, just as you are, Your Highness."

A brush gently made its way through Charlotte's smoothed, straightened hair, starting at the crown of her head and moving down in even strokes. The fragrance of rose oil hung dully in the air, "Is that so? And is there any news from the crown prince this morning?"

"Not yet, Your Highness. His Majesty was up very late last night, so I believe he will not be awakened until later this morning."

"I see." The maid who went to get Charlotte a cup of tea returned with a trolley with a full teapot and an overturned cup. With practiced movements, she turned the cup over and poured the fragrant tea into the cup, then picked the tea cup up, holding the cup of hot tea out for Charlotte. She took it carefully, silently sipping at the hot, fragrant drink. Charlotte sighed in bliss as the hot liquid washed over her tongue and slid down her throat, warming her stomach.

"When the prince awakens, please let me know right away." Charlotte said to the maid with the trolley as she passed the emptied tea cup back to her, "Until then, I do not want to be bothered, unless it's an emergency."

"I understand, Your Highness." The maid said, standing back at attention as she waited for Charlotte's next command.

"Your Highness, your bath is ready." Another maid said with a small bow of her head.

"What a dreary morning for a bath," Charlotte remarked, glancing out the window again. The rain continued to hit the glass with audible smacks, "But I guess it must be done."

Charlotte rose to her feet, and her maids were quick to remove her light pink peignoir, placing it gently to the side.

Today is finally the day I've been working so hard to get to. Clarence will finally announce his fiancee.

Charlotte, with the assistance of her maids, carefully stepped into the steaming bath, her pointed toe the first to come into contact with the perfect temperature of the water. With one careful step, then another, she submerged herself in the lightly scented water, leaving only her nose and eyes out of the rippling water. Charlotte shut her eyes and dropped the rest of her head into the water, enjoying the light, warm sensation of the water rushing her face and hair.

But even though I am relieved to have this bloody war finally end, I can't dismiss this horrible feeling. Whatever awful cloud is approaching this kingdom, please let it be smote before it can ruin everything I've worked so hard for and what so many have lost their lives for.

Charlotte finally emerged her head from the water, taking a deep breath as she pushed the water off her face.

Or give me the power to smite it myself.

…

"Welcome to Durbrame, Duke Godfreed." The knight said with a formal bow, his expression full of respect as he returned the tokens to the driver of the carriage. Malcolm, looking outside the curtained window, smiled as his eyes shifted towards Silas, who was looking out the window to the right, his eyes full of anxiety and concern.

Malcolm's gaze was full of anticipation as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand, "Does it seem different from when you were last here?"

Silas sighed quietly and weakly shook his head, feeling the tips of his fingers trembling as he stared at the bustling town, preparing for the foreign nobles to pass through to arrive at the Yursinean palace. Navy blue drapes donned through the streets and covered shop windows. Blue decorations were being hailed at stalls, and the owners shouted through the streets, calling out to the excited shoppers. Even the homes had elaborate decorations of blue covering their doors and windows, celebrating the prince's soon-to-be-announced fiancée.

No, it all looks the same, even though so much time has passed.

The flags lifting with the force of the wind, the small children running and playing in the bustling streets, the merchants and innkeepers shouting to the buzzing crowd, trying to attract wealthy tourists, all of it reminded Silas of a time long past. It was a reminder of the time he had failed, time and time again.

Silas forced himself to take deep, even breaths as he felt his chest tighten and his hands violently shake. He felt nauseous, but he refused to let Malcolm see him weaken. Though they were working together at the moment, they were not allies. He would not let his guard down, not again.

Suddenly, Malcolm sat forward, his eyes lightening in excitement as his golden eyes peered out of the carriage window, his hand lifting the short curtain aside with some force, "Is that-?" Silas stared at him quizzically, but Malcolm did not notice, his attention being focused on something outside the carriage. Malcolm rapped the top of the carriage with his fist, and the carriage came to an abrupt stop, almost throwing Silas forward with the force.

"Wait here, I'll be right back." Malcolm blurted out as he quickly opened the door and exited the carriage, swinging his cloak over his shoulders as he hurried out, covering his head with the hood with a tug of his hand. Silas watched this all happen, his mouth agape as Malcolm's figure blended into the cheerful crowd of townspeople.

What happened to us sticking together?! Silas thought angrily to himself as he glared out the carriage window, his fists clenched. Malcolm was almost lost to the crowd, but Silas managed to catch a glimpse of him pushing through the crowd with quick movements, Where is he going?

Silas contemplated leaving the carriage and following Malcolm, but he did not want to waste his mana disguising his already cleverly hidden elven features. Instead, Silas watched from the small carriage window, intensely eyeing the moving figure as it approached a well-dressed woman. Silas could not see the woman clearly from the carriage, but her movements were refined, more so than a normal townswoman.

As the woman turned, her face partially covered by a large, purple, feathered hat, Silas's eyes widened. She looked so familiar. He knew he and her had met before, but he could not place where or when. Still, Silas was buzzing with the new revelation.

The older woman's expression was warm as she pulled Malcolm in for a close hug, but as Silas tried to lean forward to see more of the woman's face, the crowds between Malcolm and the carriage began to grow, making Silas unable to keep his line of view on them. Soon they were lost to the moving crowd, and Silas bit back a string of curses as he sat back in his seat.

"Don't worry, he seems to do that a lot." A voice said aloud as the carriage door swung open with a click, and a dark, cloaked figure entered the carriage cabin, sitting across from Silas, "Chasing tail, I mean. Though he doesn't usually go after older women."

Silas immediately brought his hand to his hidden dagger, springing up as he pinned the cloaked figure down with his elbow, moving quickly without a hint of hesitation.

"Who are you?" Silas asked, his steel dagger pressing into the unfamiliar man's neck. The man sighed, slowly raising his hands in surrender at either side of his head, "I asked you a question." Silas said sharply, pressing the dagger deeper into the man's neck, nearly cutting the man's skin.

"Did you decide to wear the dress, or did he ask you?" The man asked, his eyes meeting Silas's as he smirked. The tips of the man's sandy blonde hair peeked out from his hood, his icy blue eyes dancing as his eyes narrowed, staring unwaveringly at Silas with a hint of danger.

Silas's eyes narrowed, "How do you know me?" But before he could press for an answer, the cloaked man, with precision and speed hardly visible to the human eye, grabbed Silas's hand, pulling his dagger out of his grip as he painfully twisted Silas's arm behind his back, pinning Silas's hand down.

"Sorry," The man said, rising to his feet as he held Silas in a death grip, "I was hoping I could speak to you without violence, but you pulled out a dagger."

"What did you expect me to do? Make you tea?" Silas snapped, leaning his head forward as if surrendering. He then whipped his head back with all his might, slamming his head right into the man's nose.

"You little- Argh, my nose! I think you broke it!" The man said, momentarily releasing his grip on Silas, who took the opportunity to run for the door. Unfortunately he had to pass his newest assailant to do so, and the man released his bloody nose long enough to grab Silas by the arm, slamming him to the floor of the carriage. Silas gasped as all of the air was forced out of his lungs. He coughed, and a burning pain seared through his chest.

"Can you please stop for a moment?!" The man whispered as loudly as he could, his voice odd as he nursed his nose with one hand while pinning Silas's hands down with the other, "You absolute little animal. My god, I've had easier times speaking to rocks than you, you wicked little tiger."

"Let me go!" Silas squirmed, trying to kick the man between the legs. He was quick to dodge the incoming strike though.

"Do not do that!" The man chastised, "Now listen, I don't have much time. Eva sent me to speak to you."

Silas froze before he asked, "Eva?" Silas said, calming slightly as he looked at the bruised and bloody young man's face.

"Yes. Eva. She sent me to find you after she received your letter. I have news from her, and I want to give it to you before your perverted lover gets back." Silas's face grew red at the implication, and began to squirm harder as he said loudly,

"Him and I are not like that! Get off me!" Silas was offended by the insinuation of any relationship between him and Malcolm.

The man shrugged, unconcerned by the truth, "If I let you go, will you promise not to attack me?" Silas quickly nodded, frustrated by his inability to get the man off of him. The man watched Silas closely, then slowly released his heavy grip as he sat back in the seat across from Silas, stretching his legs in a casual fashion. Silas scooted back, out of the man's grip, as he also sat up, nursing his arm with his other hand, "Okay, I don't have a lot of time, since you decided to try to kill me."

"Have you ever tried knocking? Or announcing your presence?" Silas snapped back as the man pulled out a white handkerchief from within his cloak, nursing his bloodied nose.

"And give it away that I'm not supposed to be entering the carriage? Thank god I paid off the driver, or I would have already been dragged out by my hair with all the racket you made."

"Get to the point. What did Eva send you to tell me?" Silas said, his voice rising with anger and frustration.

"Well, first she wanted me to tell you that when she sees you again, be ready to hang by your pinkies for running off and not telling her until you were long gone." The man laughed as he said that, as if he were imagining the scene itself.

Silas's eyes narrowed, and the cloaked man nodded in understanding, "I know, I know, but she would have done the same to me if I didn't tell you." The man gasped as the bloodied handkerchief touched a sensitive part of his nose, and he glared at Silas as he continued, "And she said she's been invited tonight to the palace as a guest, and she insists you meet her. Find any reason to slip away from the duke and come meet her tonight." The man reached back into his cloak and tossed a small piece of paper at Silas, who picked it up and began to read it, "Those are the meeting arrangements. Memorize it and get rid of it. Oh, and don't let the duke know about this. He may be helping you now, but don't forget he is Yursinean royalty."

With everything he needed to say said, the man shakily rose to his feet, "Now, I am leaving to find a beautiful woman to help me nurse my nose, since you were so kind as to break it."

"I'm glad I could help." Silas said coldly, standing up and sitting back down on the cushioned seat. He attempted to fix his frazzled appearance as the man slipped out of the carriage, pulling his hood up over his face as he exited.

Silas held the note in his hand as he pushed a strand of hair out of his face. Where does Eva find these people? Silas wondered to himself as he looked down at the note. At least she received my letter. Silas thought to himself as he sighed, inaudibly thanking the innkeeper he had slipped the letter to many nights ago. Silas quickly memorized the short note, unable to smile even at Eva's passive aggressive handwriting, before he ripped up the note into little pieces and threw it out the window, letting the paper petals fall into a nearby puddle of water created from the earlier rain.

…

The torches had been burning for some time in the throne room, filling the room with the smell of spiced wood. The knights had changed guard, but the queen had still rested quietly on the throne, looking through documents time to time passed through her attendant as she waited patiently for the appearance of her unruly eldest.

Finally, this will all come to an end. The queen thought to herself, giving a signed document back to her attendant. Clarence cannot avoid this any longer. He needs to secure the throne.

"Your Highness," A maid approached the queen, curtseying deeply before she rose, her hands in front of her.

"There's news?" The queen asked, placing a hand heavy with the weight of expensive and rare jewelry on her forehead. She could feel a headache forming, but she knew until she put Clarence on the throne, it would not disappear, "Tell me."

The maid curtseyed again, "Your watch on Sir Willis has borne fruit."

The queen kept her hand on her forehead, hiding the small smile that grew on her tired lips, "Is there proof?"

"The stable hand that assisted Sir Willis has offered his full support, as well as some evidence that I personally collected."

"And the duchess?"

The maid frowned, her serious face tightening, "She was gone when we arrived at the dungeon. I assigned a trusted knight to follow her trail from a safe distance, but I believe she will not be an issue for much longer. Would you like me to ensure that is the case?"

The queen hummed to herself, thinking, before she answered in a lackadaisical fashion, leaning back in her throne, "No. Keep an eye on the situation for now. No matter what happens, don't intercede. Only report back to me. And if there's a body, collect it. Either way this will help me decapitate the snake that has snuck into the hen's nest."

As the conversation between the two lulled, the queen deep in thought, there was a sound from the front of the hall. "Announcing His Highness, the Crown Prince Godfreed." The knight spoke aloud, announcing the prince's appearance clearly into the throne room as the towering doors opened, exposing the prince's tall, slim figure. The queen smiled and quickly shooed away the maid as she rose to her feet. She looked over her son's impeccable appearance with a flourishing sense of pride. His suit fit close to his frame, adorned with tassels of silver thread and navy blue accents, decorating the well-tailored black suit. His shoulders appeared wider than before, and his frame had become more solid, heightening his intimidating face. His dark leather shoes were muffled as he walked down the carpet to the end of the stairs, where his mother stood, waiting for her son to come to her.

"Mother." Clarence said with a short bow, looking straight towards his aging mother.

The queen smiled, the shallow wrinkles deepening as the navy curls around her face framed her pale pallor. "You've made me wait." She stepped down the stairs, her long, embellished train dragging behind her as she opened her arms to her son. She pulled him in for a hug, which he reciprocated with gentle taps on his mother's thin back. As she turned her head towards her son's face, she gave him a small kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Soon, this throne will be yours."

She then released her son, going back to sit on her throne, the larger, extravagantly ornate seat next to hers empty. She ran her hand across the arm of the empty chair, letting her fingers trace the embroidery carefully sewn into the beautiful, blue fabric.

"How is father? I've been so busy with today's preparations, I haven't been able to see him." Clarence asked, straightening his back as he placed his hands behind him. He resisted the urge to wipe the faint mark of his mother's lipstick from his cheek.

The queen sighed, returning her hand to her chair's arm, "Now that Willis is away from his side, his health has improved. Still, he looks forward to the day he can retire and give you the throne you so rightfully deserve." Though her expression held some warmth, there was a hint of impatience as she continued, "It's almost time for the celebration ball."

Clarence smiled, the corner of his lip tilting up with a hint of ridicule. "I am looking forward to it. And thank you for helping me with this selection, Mother. It would have been an impossible decision without your input." He bowed his head slightly, concealing his smile as he lifted his head again shortly after and placed his right hand on his chest, his expression sincere. "I am looking forward to tonight, where I can finally announce whom I have chosen."

The queen's chest swelled, her motherly pride growing as she smiled at her son. She had been so terrified since the incident ten years ago that Clarence would never return to the sweet, intelligent child he once was, but as she now gazed upon his warm, glowing features, she saw bits of the child she once held so close in her arms once again.

"Come here, my child." The queen said, gesturing to her side.

Hearing the queen's command, Clarence stepped forward, lifting his shoe to the first step as he began to slowly climb the short stairs to his mother's side. Each step brought him one step closer to his mother, and soon, he towered over her thinning frame. The prince bent his knees and crouched next to the queen, looking as if he were anticipating another question as he turned his head to face his mother with a smile.

"Soon you will rule this kingdom. Your father and I have taught you everything we have learned through our mistakes, but it is now your turn to make your own mistakes and learn." The queen placed her hand over her son's, which rested on her armrest. She squeezed his hand as she looked deeply into his face. Though she was staring at him, her mind seemed to be elsewhere, "Do not be afraid, my dear son. You were born to rule."

He whispered quietly, just barely audible to the queen, "Thank you for everything you have done, Mother." He spoke, allowing the queen to listen with a serious expression.

The queen could only smile in response.

…

Here is the chapter! Ah, this was a fun week for sure, and I am hoping to get a drawing of Silas done in his disguise. That'll depend how busy I am this next week, as I am still facilitating interviews (3 left :D) and setting up a big event for my students at the end of this month. ^^; I should be better in May! ♥

Also, I translated this obscure Japanese horror game, Utaho no Tatari (Utano's curse). You can see that on my wordpress (koiinmarch.wordpress.com). It's been a couple months since I've translated something so long, so it's not 100% correct. I got stressed out and binge translated it in 4 days..... teehee..... (Time that should have been spent on YMtK) //cries

Thank you all for your comments! And thank you, Hunny, for your hard work! See you all next week ♥