The Wicked House of Caroline

Ever since Iris gave her first correct ‘prophecy’, the number of eyes on her had increased. First, just a few priests and priestesses. As her correct prophecies increased, so did her popularity. The other girls who’d given prophecies were eventually overshadowed, as no one was more accurate than her.

Iris was named an oracle so soon as she returned because she spouted off events that she knew would happen.

The more difficult part had been to get the attention of the Third Consort and Luther.

Her pink lips curled up with a blissful smile as she rested her head against the pale chest of a man. The room was still heavy with their love, but her heart was light.

Luther’s villa was the same as she remembered it, only this time, she was the first woman in his bed.

Iris drew in her lips to keep from giggling with glee. Luther hadn’t put up much of a fight when she appeared that night. As she was being watched by attendants and guards, perhaps even that woman’s spies, at the Hall of Eloquence, it was difficult for Luther to get comfortable in her bedchambers there.

Even after their first night together, he’d seemed to regret it afterwards, appearing guilty for sleeping with her while still engaged to Lady Caroline.

Luther began talking about all of that woman’s good points: how she was running around to try to appease the nobles, to do preparation work on orders and projects, mediating the court, and most importantly, watching over the King and taking care of the King’s fiancée, an utter wreck.

Luther had said he wasn’t doing much in comparison and admitted that he didn’t know half as much as Lady Caroline.

Iris could understand his guilt. After all, she had been the one to approach him, an engaged man who still felt the need to be loyal. However, that didn’t mean she wanted to hear about Lady Caroline.

Luther didn’t know what she did. Lady Caroline wasn’t doing work for his sake. She was doing it for the kingdom.

Iris remembered Lady Caroline’s look of disgust and indifference when Luther brought her back pregnant. It wasn’t the anger or sadness that normal women would’ve had when they discovered their husband got another woman pregnant. Because of that, Iris was certain that Lady Caroline did not love Luther.

It wasn’t only Lady Caroline who had looked at her and Luther with such disdain, as if he were beneath her, but all of his brothers had as well. All Luther wanted to do was give the royal family an heir.

Then King Laurence and his wife hadn’t had any children after years of marriage. In addition, he refused to take another wife for the sake of an heir. The Second and Third Princes weren’t married. The Third couldn’t even have children any longer. It was said that Princess Rebecca was infertile due to her health conditions.

Luther had come to the Great Temple and told her all his problems: how he couldn’t divorce the Princess because of a royal order of marriage, but she was infertile, so they couldn’t have children. His brother was hoping for a child from them to name heir.

Their relationship grew deeper. They really did love each other, and she and Luther became intimate. When he had found out she was pregnant, he was overjoyed. He didn’t think anything of bringing her back to Kadmium, as if he weren’t already married, and presenting her to his siblings.

“That isn’t an heir. That’s a child of adultery. An illegitimate child cannot enter the line of succession.” His eldest brother’s cruel words were like ice to their bones. How could he call an innocent child illegitimate?

But this time was different.

Once she was pregnant, Luther was going to be king and their child would become the Crown Prince. What line of succession? He would be the direct heir!

She tilted her head up to look at Luther’s handsome profile. She thought he only grew more good-looking with age, but young Luther was still captivating. His soft, pale skin, his brown hair falling like gentle waves, and his kind eyes. Luther never looked down on her, an orphan picked up by the Temple to sweep the grounds. He never judged her.

He hadn’t changed, and for that, Iris was relieved.

“Tomorrow, you’ll become the new King of Kadmus,” she said in a soft voice. She put her hand over his chest. “I can’t believe it.” It was everything they wanted and it was happening.

Luther smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Laurence is still king. It’s just that I will have Authority to Rule as Prince Regent.”

Iris pouted and wrinkled her face. “That’s the same thing. Eventually, you will be king.”

Luther took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “To be king, my brother must pass on. He is still alive and I hope he will be for some time.” He furrowed his brows and looked ahead of him, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why my brother isn’t getting better.”

Iris frowned when he wasn’t looking. “Do you not want to be king?”

Luther squinted his eyes. “Not like this.” He shifted beneath her and pushed himself into a seated position. He ran his hand over his face and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as the sheets pooled at his hips. “I will do what’s needed of me. It’s my duty and responsibility to the kingdom, but I don’t want my brother to die.”

Even his innocence and naivety remained the same.

“You’re a good brother.”

Luther looked down at the bed. “I should’ve done more.”

Iris shifted beside him and pushed herself up on her side. “Are you nervous?” She placed a hand on his thigh. “You’ll be a marvelous king, Luther. Your father will be at your side...and so will I.”

He was quiet, still staring at the sheets in front of him. He shut his eyes and shook his head before grasping the top sheet and pulling it off. He kicked it to the side and slid his legs off the bed.

Iris sat up.

“I’m going to the bathing pool.”

Her eyes widened and a smile filled her face. “Shall I join you?”

“No.” His answer was immediate, as if instinctual. He didn’t look back at her, but waved his arm to motion for her to remain in the bed. “It’s not necessary.”

She pouted as she watched his naked backside walk through the doors to the bathing pool. The door closed and she fell back in bed, frowning.

Was he feeling guilty again? There was no need for him to feel guilty. It wasn’t as if he and Lady Caroline were in love. Didn’t he tell her that he wished Lady Caroline were as kind as she was? As gentle? As affectionate?

She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She’d already come this far and she’d become pregnant soon. Iris waited for Luther to come out of the bathing room, but after some time, the door never opened. She squinted and sat up, sliding off the bed and tiptoed to the room. It was still warm in the evening, so the air against her bare skin didn’t bother her.

“Luther?” She lifted her hand and knocked. There was no answer. She frowned and looked at the handle before twisting it and pushing the door open. The brightly lit bathing room was humid and well lit, but Luther wasn’t inside.

She stepped through the threshold and looked around. The double doors leading to the garden outside were partially open. She walked towards it and peered out the glass panels.

Luther was in a robe, barefoot on the manicured lawn, and seated on a swing that looked too small for him. A few lanterns hanging from the tree gave him some light.

Iris grabbed a robe that had been folded with the towels and wrapped it around her. She followed him outside. The air was cooler and it felt nice after the humidity of the bathing room.

Luther remained seated where he was, his feet on the ground and gently swaying as he held on to the ropes on either side of him. She approached him and offered a smile.

“This looks a bit too small for you, don’t you think?” she said. “Did you used to play on this when you were small?”

Luther’s eyes remained downcast. “I stayed at my father’s villa when I was child. I rarely came to my own villa and didn’t live here until I was thirteen.” He sounded distant and distracted. “When Father was busy, I’d come here to play as less people were watching and could reprimand me for not studying or practicing the arts.”

His hands tightened around the ropes. Iris’ chest began to ache and she stepped forward. She extended her arms and wrapped them around his neck, leaning close so that he could rest his head against her chest. “Luther, I promise that I will always be with you.”

A crack sounded and Luther tensed. Before she could close her arms around him, he suddenly disappeared from between her arms and landed on the soft grass. His eyes were wide as one rope swung wildly beside him while the other rope dangled a broken piece of wood.

The hole from where one of the ropes was tied on to the right side of the wooden seat had cracked to the edge, weakening it, and causing a chunk of wood to come apart under Luther’s weight. Iris gasped, her eyes wide as she took a step back and looked down at the man on the ground.

Luther seemed stunned and didn’t move from where he landed.

“Are you all right?” she asked, breathless as she bent down to help him up.

Luther drew his head back, pulling away from her as his eyes turned to look at the broken swing seat. Iris followed his gaze.

Something was carved into the old wooden board. She squinted in the lantern light and could make out what appeared to be characters carved into the board. Not words, but...initials for someone’s name?

A chill swept over her as she put together the characters and what they stood for.

Rebecca of Caroline and Luther dun Kadmus.

A tight, pained breath left her. Whoever had carved the characters was not very good, but it was still legible.

Luther rose to his feet. Before she could help him, he grasped her wrist and began pulling her back inside. Iris stumbled along behind him and winced. His grip was stronger than she thought it would be.

“Luther?” They entered the bathing room and he turned around to close the door. “Are you all right?”

His back was to her as he hunched his back forward and gripped the door handle. She couldn’t see his expression. She watched his back shake as he took a deep breath.

“You should go back to the Hall of Eloquence.”

She drew her head back as her heart jumped. “Go back?” She tried to force a smile. “But it’s so late....”

He turned around to look at her with unreadable eyes. He seemed to study her for a moment before releasing her wrist. “I....” He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right...You’re right. You should stay.” The pressure around her heart loosened and Iris held back her relieved breath. Luther walked past her, as if in a daze. “I should go study.”

“Study?” She followed behind him. “Study what? It’s so late-”

“I’ll be Prince Regent soon,” Luther said in a breathy voice as he turned to face her. “Prince Regent...I’m not prepared as I should be.”

Iris gave him a warm, encouraging smile. “Luther, you will have time to learn.”

He shook his head as helplessness washed over him. “I can’t always depend on Beks to do everything.”

Her again? Iris’ face froze.

“She already works so hard and gets so little rest. She’s been like this since my mother was alive and with Laurence. She was only learning from my mother and assisting my brother. What will she do now?”

Iris’ eyes crinkled up as a feeling of dread balled in the pit of her stomach. “...now?” Her voice was breathy and Luther didn’t seem to hear her.

He looked at her with a beseeching expression. “What kind of husband would I be to Beks if I put all the burden on her?”

Iris felt as if she’d slammed face first into a wall. She stood rooted in place, watching Luther go around his room and gather his clothes, then hastily put them on as if she were looking in from outside. Once he was dressed, he rushed to the door to the bedchamber and left.

Iris’ breath trembled as her legs shook. She reached for the bedpost and used it to steady herself as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. Luther’s words repeated over and over in her head.

What kind of husband would I be?

She closed her eyes and leaned against the bedpost like a toy. “You still want to marry her?”

╔═════════════════ ∘◦ ♔ ◦∘ ═════════════════╗

Beks moved the tip of a long, thin stick over a candle flame and waited until it caught fire. She moved the tip of the stick over a shallow, golden bowl filled with pale, flattened sand. Brown lines of powdered incense had been carefully drawn over the sand, and she lit a small corner of the brown powder.

Thin whisps of smoke began to coil up and the sweet smell of the incense filled the air. She put the thin stick into a narrow jar with water and then stepped away from the bowl. She walked around it and knelt down on a cushioned kneeling bench in front of a massive stone sarcophagus.

In the center of the mausoleum vault was an elevated stone platform where the late Queen rested. On her left, there were two similarly sized sarcophagus intricately carved with scenes of various battles.

The one closest to the Queen bearing the seal of a king consort, was the First Consort, King Alexios. Next to him on the neighboring platform was the Second Consort, Uncle Timur.

To the right of the late Queen’s sarcophagus was an elevated stone platform that had yet to be used. There was no sarcophagus, but she knew who was going to lay there one day. A small, vindictive part of her wished that the Third Consort were already there.

Beks lowered her head, pressed her hands together and bowed her head. There was a chance she wouldn’t be able to visit again soon and as such, paid her respects.

“No matter what personal cost, the kingdom must come first.” She lifted her head and looked at the carving of herself on the late Queen’s sarcophagus reminding her that she had phenomenal expectations placed on her.

She took a deep breath, bowed her head once more, and stood up. She turned around and walked out of the vault. Once she was out, Chamberlain Wilton closed the iron gate and locked it. Beks stood and watched, taking in one last sight of the mausoleum with blank, cold eyes.

“My lady,” Chamberlain Wilton said as he bowed to her. “The court is ready.” He sounded somewhat hesitant. He only managed the household and had no say in government, so whether or not he approved didn’t matter.

Beks gave him a nod and began to walk from the royal grave sites to the Gilded Palace.

Tonight, she wore a tiara with her hair up and a burnt orange dress embroidered and embellished with lace and pearls. She glanced up at the sky. The sun had set, and aside from the thin sliver of disappearing orange, the sky was dark.

Time was up.

Her heels made small clicking sounds against the stone and then brick as she walked through the various corridors and walkways to get to the throne room. Her posture was straight as she reached the double doors.

The two royal guards on either side stepped to the side and saluted her as she passed.

On either side of the aisle were men and women, waiting for her to arrive. The murmur all but stopped as Beks entered, her eyes looking ahead towards the empty throne and the long table in front of it where she had sat. Luther stood to one side in formal regalia while the Third Consort stood a few steps back.

The royal scribe was standing next to Luther behind the table, where an open folio was laid along with two brush pens, ink wells, and two small plates with one needle in each. Opposite the Third Consort were four men and one woman - the leaders of the Five Great Houses. All of them had arrived for the coronation of King Laurence, but were now going to witness the transfer for Authority to Rule to Laurence’s younger brother.

Beks couldn’t read their expressions, as they kept their faces neutral. Even her own father didn’t seem to show any like or dislike. It seemed as if none of what was happening concerned them and was par for course.

Beks bowed to Luther. “Your Highness.”

“Lady Caroline.” Luther nodded his head towards her in acknowledgment. Beks walked around the table and stood to the other side of the royal scribe.

“Master Lindell, please read the transfer documents,” Beks said without any grand speech. Her words already acknowledged that Marquis von Glasser wasn’t going to make it and that the transfer would be honored.

The royal scribe gave her and Luther a small bow before picking up the folio. He held on to it carefully as he began to read the agreed upon terms. Beks had reviewed it before.

At that moment, they would hand over Authority to Rule to Luther and Luther would become Prince Regent, ruling in his eldest brother’s place until such a time as King Laurence woke up and was able to take his place. If Laurence was unable to wake or awoke, but was not fit to rule, then in three years, the Prince Regent could be crowned as king.

Beks knew that the Third Consort would not wait that long.

The royal scribe handed the document to her and her eyes read the text rapidly to make sure it was verbatim. Satisfied, she nodded and handed it back to the scribe. The scribe handed it to Luther on either side. He also appeared to read the document before handing it over.

She wanted to roll her eyes. Luther couldn’t read as fast as she could; how could he review the entire document faster than her? It was all for show.

The scribe’s attendant moved the pen and needle closer to Luther. Luther picked up the pen, dipped it into the inkwell, and wrote his signature at the bottom of the document. He then put down the pen, picked up the needle and pricked his right thumb. He rubbed his index finger over the little bubble of blood then pressed his index finger next to his name, giving his approval with a fingerprint in blood.

The scribe then moved the document back to Beks. She could feel all the eyes on her, watching as if expecting that she’d refuse at the last moment.

She didn’t say a word as she took the pen and signed her name in bold, elegant strokes. She then picked up the needle, but before pricking herself, she removed her ornamental hairpin. Her thick, dark hair with its orange streak tumbled down her back and shoulders as she took the hairpin and rubbed the needle against it.

The nectria metal of her hair pin would darken when in contact with poison.

She heard the Third Consort snort and Beks raised her eyes. She slipped her hair pin up her sleeve once she was satisfied that the pin hadn’t been poisoned. She didn’t know why the Third Consort was laughing, as Beks had learned the procedure from the late Queen.

She pricked her thumb, rubbed it against her index finger, and then pressed her bloody print against the document, just beside her signature. She didn’t hesitate in the least.

The scribe then turned the document around and pushed it towards the Dukes and Duchess of the Five Houses. Starting with the Duke of Seneca, the oldest head of house out of the five, each signed their names to act as witness to the signing of the document and to give approval for the Authority to Rule.

When the last of the houses were signed, Duke Seneca turned to the nobles waiting behind them.

“Authority to Rule is now in the hands of His Highness Prince Luther, Prince Regent, until such a time as His Majesty King Laurence wakes and is sustainable to return to rule!” He turned on his heel to face Luther. He bowed his head, pressed his right fist over his chest, and bent down, his left knee touching the ground. “We of the Honorable House of Seneca will honor the rule of His Highness Prince Luther. May he rule with justice, compassion, and strength for the people of Kadmus!”

The other four heads of houses hit their chests with their fists and also bend down to take a knee behind Duke Seneca. They called out their names as they swore.

“We of the Virtuous House of Durmott....”

“We of the Benevolent House of Latana....”

“We of the Valorous House of Enidmore....”

“We of the Noble House of Caroline will honor the rule of His Highness Prince Luther. May he rule with justice, compassion, and strength for the people of Kadmus.” Beks watched her father recite the words with no other expression on his face.

She clapped as applause filled the throne room. The royal scribe collected the folio, turned to Luther, and presented the book to him. Luther accepted it, holding it with both hands as he looked across, at Beks. There was a hopeful smile in his eyes and she returned it, hoping that he would not disappoint her despite the anticipation that he would.

Luther took the document with both hands and walked up the two steps to the elevated throne. He stood in front of it, facing the crowd. While he did not yet sit on the throne, Beks could see the triumphant expression on the Third Consort’s face across from her.

“I, Luther Walter dun Kadmus, Prince of Kadmus, swear to uphold the laws and protocols of the kingdom; protect the citizens; and defend my land honorably!” The applause grew louder and he looked at Beks. He gave her a warm smile and extended his hand towards her.

Beks stopped clapping and turned, lifting her arm to reach for his. If Luther had one good point, it was that he would always try to do his best. If he could do that, it was all the kingdom could ask for. I really hope you won't disappoint me, Luther.

Before she could put her hand in his, the shrill sounds of trumpets came from outside the room. The crowds stopped clapping and began to look around. Beks frowned and lowered her arm as her eyes narrowed. Luther turned his head from side to side, trying to find where the trumpets were coming from.

“What is that?”

Beks narrowed her eyes. “That’s a warning alarm. Something’s wrong!” She turned to the door just as it flew open.

“My lady! Your Highness!” Two royal guards rushed into the room, frantic.

The Third Consort stepped forward to stop them as they rushed towards the throne. “What’s going on here?” he demanded as he stood in their way.

“Your Highness! My lady! His Majesty is gone!” The royal guard was breathless as he stumbled to a stop, appearing to want to go around the Third Consort.

“What?” Beks almost choked out. “Did he wake? Did he leave his room?”

“No, my lady!” Seeing that someone was paying attention to them, the two guards hurried forward to her. “He’s not in his bed. His Majesty has been taken-”

“Taken? By whom-where are the guards?” Beks shoved past them and ran past the aisle, towards the doors. “Lock down the entry gates! No one leaves the palace grounds until His Majesty is found!”

She pressed her hand against her chest as she ran, gasping to keep her breath even as she ran towards Laurence’s villa. Her father caught up with her and she resisted the urge to ask him if he thought her panic was believable.

At the entrance of Laurence’s villa, several guards were already crawling around, some giving orders to others to search.

She fought her way through to get to the bedchamber and was immediately accosted with the scent of blood. That was unexpected. Her eyes were wide as she saw the strewn sheets, pillows, and broken furniture, as if there had been a struggle. Her eyes fell to the spots of blood on the floor leading to the man clutching his stomach. The front of his body was stained with blood as he lay back against the side of the bed and the floor, looking delirious.

“Someone call for a doctor! Chamberlain Wilton is injured!” Beks shouted over her shoulder. She clutched her chest and leaned heavily against the wall. Wide, terrified eyes swept across the room as Luther caught up with her. “Where is Lady Eleanor?” Bek cried out as she winced, as if in pain. “She was supposed to be here watching His Majesty!”

“My lady....” A breathless wheeze came from Chamberlain Wilton. A guard had knelt down beside him and used the sheet to try to press against his wound. The man’s glassy eyes stared at her and she had to commend him. “My lady...It was Lady Eleanor.”

Beks’ eyes crinkled up and she shook her head. “What?”

“Lady Eleanor,” Chamberlain Wilton gasped as he grit his teeth. “She took His Majesty!”