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Calamity (Part I)

Long may you reign.

A constant reverberation that rang through her dazed mind, Jovine held back a flinch every time the same four words were uttered to her.

In the face of all the loss, grief, and heartbreak, her ascension to the throne was an abandoned thought she had neglected. So, sitting there in the Great Hall of the Palace, with a blur of faces declaring the longevity of her reign — it felt like drowning in a flood of panic.

She was far from ready to rule, especially now that she no longer had a partner to rely on.

Looking beside her, she found her husband, the new Emperor of Theolos, looking down upon his people bowing in deference. And, the look of power in his hungry eyes inspired an unbidden sense of foreboding.

Richard de Tristaine was hardly a compassionate man before. She couldn’t bear to think what the depths of his hollow nature would allow now.

Looking away, she closed her eyes, willing herself to push through the rest of the night without betraying the crippling anxiety that was slowly consuming her.

At the sound of a greasy voice, Jovine clutched onto the jagged edges of the carved seat of her mounted throne, already dreading the interaction to come.

“My most sincere congratulations to Your Royal Majesties. May God bless the Emperor and Empress. Long may you reign,” Lord Harrison purred, lowering into an ostentatious bow.

A thin, scrawny man with a tall frame and graying whiskers, Lord Harrison of the House Ballio was known for his two-faced nature. From their brief encounters in the past, Jovine knew she would be fine never crossing paths with him ever again.

“Thank you, Lord Harrison,” Richard responded smoothly, a hint of dismissal sounding in his tone.

But, as always, the haughty Lord continued on. “How unfortunate it is for such a joyous occasion to be shrouded in so much grief. Please accept my condolences, Your Majesty. To think the late Emperor fell victim to something so small as a weak heart condition no one even knew about…”

Jovine could hear several chattering conversations come to a halt. Lord Harrison had just implied something many gossiping citizens had whispered on the streets. Something even she had found herself suspecting.

“I would watch your words, Lord Harrison,” Richard warned in a low voice.

“My apologies,” he responded with a lowered head. “I meant nothing but the astonishment I felt when I heard the news.”

But, even from afar, she could see the small smirk inching its way up his face. With one more dutiful bow, he left, a new trail of whispers following in his wake.

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Whispers of the late Emperor’s unexpected death from an illness that seemed too convenient not to be devised. Whispers circling, but never touching, the unspeakable accusation against the new Emperor, who now sat on his father’s throne. And, whispers of the hidden truth many believed would never be brought to light. A flurry of them invaded the grand occasion.

From her periphery, she saw her husband clench his fists, trembling in anger at such blatant hearsay being paraded around him on the day of his own coronation.

Out of habit, Jovine reached out to touch his hand, hoping to transfer some semblance of support through the contact. It had always worked before.

Amazingly, she felt the strain in his hand release, and she looked over with hopeful eyes to see his face relax into one of cold blankness. He hadn’t pulled away from her, and that small fact planted a seed of optimism within her.

She grasped on tighter, never wanting to let go, but at the sight of his narrowing eyes, she turned to find the silver-haired stranger approaching the dias. The Grand Duke.

Grand Duke vel Feyras bowed. “Many blessings to my new sovereigns.”

Jovine stared at the man in front of her, one she had been searching for in the crowds ever since the realization of who he was hit her. The Grand Duke would have answers for her. Answers about the truth of Mallory. Answers about the death of the Emperor she had not dared question. And, answers her husband would never give her.

Grand Duke vel Feyras rose to meet her eyes, and as she deliberated how to obtain a chance to speak with him, he spoke first. “May I have the honor of a dance, Your Majesty?”

Taken aback by the unanticipated request, Jovine opened her mouth to respond, but the words failed to form.

With a slow smile, he looked towards her husband. “You wouldn’t mind would you, Your Majesty?”

Richard leaned back in his seat, studying the Grand Duke. With a wave of his hand, he said, “By all means, she’s all yours.”

Jovine couldn’t help but feel a sting from the way he said it. As if she was an object to hand off so easily.

At the Grand Duke’s outstretched hand, she rose to take it, but before she could step down, Richard grasped onto her, stopping her momentarily. Rising along with her, he leaned in and muttered, “Behave.”

Then, without another look, he walked away to refresh his empty glass.

Jovine looked at his retreating form, the previously sprouting seed of optimism already withering away.

A warm, calloused hand closed around her own clenched ones, and she looked down to see the Grand Duke regarding her expectantly. At the sound of the melodic orchestra beginning a new tune, Jovine allowed him to lead her down to the dance floor, where several other couples were swaying to the music.

Richard should have been the one she was dancing with. That’s how she had always imagined it. Dancing with her husband on the joyous day of their coronation. But here she was, dancing with an unfamiliar man.

For a few long seconds, they wordlessly danced, mechanically moving to the rhythmic chords.

“You look beautiful tonight, Your Majesty,” the Grand Duke offered.

“Thank you,” she replied distantly, her eyes focused on the back of her husband, who was conversing with Lord Maximus.

At the sound of a chuckle, she looked up to find the Grand Duke’s amused expression. “You seem to be quite enamored by His Majesty.”

“Well, he is my husband,” she replied practically.

“Yes, he is,” he mused with an unreadable face.

Jovine frowned as he twirled her around. She couldn’t even begin to figure the man out.

Shaking her head, she redirected her focus to ask what she had wanted to from the start. “I’m afraid I have a few questions for you.”

The Grand Duke nodded. “I’m sure you do.”

“Mallory,” she began. “I need to know what happened there.”

Jovine felt the slight pressure of his tightening grip on her waist. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything.”