“Collapsing was your only option? Was it too much trouble to fake another attack?” Deo held his sister across his arms and brought her into her room after returning from town to find her being carried out of the Gilded Palace by one of the royal guards.

He shoved the pastries he’d bought for her to a servant, and ran through a flower bed to snatch her from the guard’s arms as Prince Luther hovered around, rambling about trying to wake her up. Deo couldn’t help himself and yelled at him to summon a doctor to the Old Tower instead of trying to explain why he wasn’t at fault.

He didn’t bother to acknowledge the Fourth Prince’s pained expression as he carried Beks back. He made it two steps before noticing her eye twitch and realizing that she hadn’t passed out.

He shouted for the guards to give them space and not to crowd around them as he brought Beks inside. Their parents had been in the Great Room with their younger siblings when he barged in with Beks in his arms.

Before his parents could ask what happened, he said he was taking her upstairs and to wait for the doctor to arrive. Despite his reassurance, their mother followed and rushed to check on Beks as soon as they reached the hall just outside of Beks’ room. The Duchess had snapped her head back and frowned, hissing in a low voice that Beks had scared her for no reason.

Once inside Beks’ bedchamber, their mother closed the door and Deo unceremoniously dumped Beks on to her bed after questioning her.

“Pretending to have another attack is tiring. Also, if it happens too much, they could become suspicious,” Beks replied as she laid on the bed, unmoving. Her eyes opened and she squinted. “The Third Consort surprised me.”

“What happened?” The Duchess asked as she stormed to Beks’ bedside and glowered. “Your father said you’d gone to speak to Prince Luther and then you return like this? What did that little nitwit say?”

“It wasn’t what he said.” Beks pushed herself up into a seated position and slid her legs over the side of the bed. “It’s not even what he was doing with the new oracle in his study.”

Both her brother and mother’s faces darkened. Deo narrowed his eyes and clenched his hands. “Does he still remember that you’re his fiancée?”

“What does it matter if he does? Do you think that will stop him?” Beks said with a slight scoff. “It wasn’t him. It was the Third Consort.” She met her eyes with a serious look. “He claims that they’ve found Brother Laurence.”

“What?” Her mother almost sounded disgusted at the very idea. “That’s impossible.”

“I thought the same,” Beks said. “But he said they found him southeast, in a riverbed on the other side of the mountains.”

The Duchess opened her mouth, but no words came out as disbelief filled her face.

Deo frowned. “Southeast? But isn’t he-”

“Wait a moment. You said they found him in a riverbed?” The Duchess stiffened where he stood. Her eyes narrowed. “Did they say he was alive?”

At her words, Deo seemed to understand something. His eyes widened and he looked towards his sister for an answer. Beks drew her lips inward and slowly shook her head.

“It was such shocking news that I fainted.”

The Duchess looked down, as if unable to believe it. “What is he doing? Is he claiming the king is dead to keep his son on the throne?” She muttered in Sagittater as she tried to wrap her mind around what was going on.

Before she could say anything more, a knock came from the door. Beks immediately returned to bed and tilted her head to the side, feigning weakness.

“The doctor is here,” the Duke said. “How is Beks?” He pushed the door open and stood to the side to let one of the royal doctors in.

“Dr. Salvus,” Beks wheezed out. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“My lady, there is nothing to be sorry about.” The old doctor came to her side and knelt down. “How do you feel?”

“Winded...a bit dizzy.” She tried to roll to her side, but the doctor stopped her.

“Don’t get up. Some oils will dispel the dizziness.” After checking her face, eyes, and pulse, he rummaged through his bag for a small bottle capped with cork. He took a piece of clean cloth and dropped some oil on to the cloth before giving it to her.

Beks brought it to her nose and could make out scents of lavender and peppermint. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Dr. Salvus.”

“Slow, even breathing, my lady,” he told her gently. He gave her a pitiful expression and Beks could see genuine concern in his eyes. Dr. Salvus had helped care of her and her health concerns since she was a child. “Even though you’ve grown and your body is healthy, you are still prone to attacks that can damage your health if they are severe enough. You must take better care of yourself, my lady.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“I’m going to recommend she eat light foods tonight and some calming tea,” he said as he looked towards her parents and brother.

The Duke had his arm around the Duchess’ shoulders and nodded. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Salvus. We’ll make sure she eats light tonight and drinks some tea before bed.”

Her brother and mother also thanked him and Deo saw the old man out. The door closed once more. The Leviathan scale was activated as soon as it was shut and Beks looked up at her bed’s canopy.

“I didn’t expect the Third Consort to claim the king is dead so soon.”

“Yes,” her father agreed in a droll voice. “Especially considering he’s at the Mouth of the Valley with our people right now.”

Beks closed her eyes and let out a small huff. The Mouth of the Valley was a cavern in the mountains, in the inner regions of Sagittate. It was where the river that cut through the Sacred Valley started by emerging from the cave. It was considered another sacred spot, but also a biha-dense cavern.

Legend had it that ancient warriors trying to strengthen their biha abilities would retreat there.

“It’s only been three weeks since Brother Laurence was relocated,” Beks said with knitted brows. “I didn’t think the Third Consort would make such a bold move. His son doesn’t even have a proper handle on ruling yet.”

“The longer he has to search, the more troublesome it is,” the Duke replied. “However, ‘finding’ the king means he has to bring the king home.”

“Wouldn’t his body be identifiable in that case?” Beks asked. “We’d know it’s not Brother Laurence.”

“They found him in a riverbed, suggesting that he either drowned or his body was abandoned in the river,” her mother told her as she took a seat on a chair. “Waterlogged bodies are difficult to properly identify visually. They’d have to make a guess based on vague features, clothing, and other identifying marks.”

Beks frowned. “Then, if they found someone who resembles Brother Laurence, dressed him in similar clothes he was last seen in, they could make such a claim?”

“We can only wait until the body returns, though I’d be prepared to fight to see the corpse,” the Duke said.

“The less people who see it, the better the chance of being passed as the king,” his wife added. She looked at Beks. “Did the Third Consort look at you when he said that they found the king’s body?”

Beks pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. I ‘fainted’ so soon and didn’t notice if he was watching me for a reaction.” That was negligent on her part. “The Fourth Prince couldn’t believe it and I heard the new oracle remind them about the body of water prophecy. They didn’t say much else, as the Fourth Prince noticed I was on the ground and panicked.”

Her father sneered. “Such concern....”

“It’s convenient that the decoy body was found in a riverbed,” the Duchess told them. “The king never fell into the river and he didn’t die in the bathing pool, but his body was still found in water.”

“It’s as if the prophecy was determined to come true,” Beks said. Then...does this mean the Temple had a hand in faking Laurence’s death, too? She’d never heard of such a thing. What would the Temple have to gain? More validation for their new oracle?

“Yes, but simply because his body was found in a riverbed doesn’t mean that he drowned,” her father replied.

“They’ve been disparaging Eleanor since she left,” the Duchess told them. “They could very well put the blame on her. It’s well known that the King was already weak. He wasn’t responding to clerics. It’s possible that he could’ve died enroute and was abandoned.”

“She wouldn’t abandon him,” Beks said in a low voice as her eyes reddened.

Her mother looked towards her and let out a heavy sigh. “What we believe, what we know, means nothing to them. I’m certain they will link Laurence’s supposed death to the prophecy.”

Beks sneered. “I don’t believe it.”

Her father raised a brow. “You suspect that the new oracle lied?”

“No,” Beks said. “It’s just that no one hates prophecies more than I do.”

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

She’d heard Lady Eleanor be cursed and spoken of with such vitriol, that it took everything in Beks not to throw a few punches. Many nobles and ministers had come to her to express their condolences knowing how close she was to Laurence.

“He loved you like his own.”

“Don’t be too sad, my lady. His Majesty would not want you to suffer because of him.”

“I couldn’t believe that Lady Eleanor would betray him, could you?”

Of course, she couldn’t believe it. Lady Eleanor would sooner take a sword through the chest than betray Laurence. All Beks could do was refuse to wear mourning clothes and insist that her foster brother was still alive. She looked like a madwoman.

She received an immense amount of pity and concern, even prompting Luther to try to convince her.

“I won’t believe it. I won’t.” Beks shook her head from side to side and pulled away from him. “I won’t believe it until I see him for myself!”

“Beks, I want to believe that Brother Laurence is still alive, too,” Luther choked out as he reached for her arms once more. His eyes were red and swollen, his voice hoarse. “I also want to believe....” He shut his eyes and held back a cry. “All my brothers are gone....”

His voice broke and he grabbed on to Beks’ arm, clutching it against him as he began to sob. As his body rocked against hers and his hot breath and tears got through her sleeves, Beks pursed her lips into a slight frown and crinkled her eyes. She’d forgotten during her ruse that Luther was just his father’s puppet on the throne and likely had no part in whatever plot the Third Consort made.

Luther tended to do whatever his father told him, but was loyal and highly respected Laurence. He also couldn’t hide a conspiracy to incapacitate the king if his life depended on it, so the Third Consort wouldn’t tell him.

To Luther, Laurence’s death was very real.

A little guilt crept up and Beks leaned forward to wrap her arm around his back and give him comfort. He believed his father’s words and that Laurence was dead. In addition, the twins still hadn’t been found. Their status was unknown. Luther wasn’t very close to the twins, but he did think highly of them, often bragging that one brother was a military hero and the other a respectable priest. Right now, he must’ve felt alone. Comforting him was the most she could do for him considering they were on opposing sides, albeit in Luther’s case, unknowingly.

She looked up, past him and saw her brother’s lips curl up with distaste as he watched Luther sobbing in her arms.

“We’ll find the twins. I also believe they’re alive,” Beks told him in a soft voice. He nodded his head, but his grip on her tightened.

“They’re strong. They always have been,” Luther wheezed. “They must be alive.”

She stroked his back to calm him and loosened his hold. He leaned against her and was quiet, as if relishing her familiar comfort despite the fact that he had been the one to come and try to comfort her.

“Beks.” Her father’s voice came from the entrance and she looked towards him. He wore a solemn expression on his face. “They’ve brought him back.”

Despite knowing that the body wasn’t Laurence, she couldn’t help but tense up. Her arm around Luther tightened as she swallowed hard. “Where?”

“The infirmary courtyard.”

Her chest tightened and she shut her eyes. It’s not Laurence. It’s not Laurence. Laurence is fine. He’s practically inside a biha spa right now, healing, and will be healthy and wake up soon. She took a deep breath and loosened her hold on Luther.

“I want to see him,” she said.

Luther lifted his head, pale. “Beks....”

Her red eyes crinkled up. “I need to see him. If that’s really Brother Laurence, I want to see him with my own eyes!”

Luther clenched his jaw, as if unsure if he himself was willing to go.

“Beks, I’ll go with you.” Deo stepped forward. Beks released Luther and put his hands on his shoulders to push him back.

“Wait!” Luther’s eyes widened as she began to stand.

“I need to see him.” Beks wore a determined expression as she stepped away. She wanted to see the body the Third Consort brought to lie to them. Deo followed behind her, shooting a glare at Luther before he and Beks left.

“Have you ever seen a waterlogged corpse before?” Deo asked.

“No.”

“It’s a gruesome sight. Be prepared.”

“As long as it’s not Brother Laurence, I won’t be shaken.”

They walked around the Gilded Palace to get to the infirmary on the palace grounds. It wasn’t far, as doctors were meant to get to the Gilded Palace quickly. The two-story building was made of stone, old but well-kept. Behind it, rather than a garden, was a walled courtyard. Towards the back was a room carved with scripts to use biha to keep the interior chilled in order to slow decomposition and prevent too much odor.

This was, for lack of a better term, the palace’s morgue.

Beks had been there before, as she’d overseen the servants dress the late Queen for burial there.

When they reached the back gate to the court, royal guards who normally were not posted there stood on either side of the gate.

Her heart clenched and Beks found herself holding her breath as she took a step forward. The two guards blocked the entrance.

“My apologies, my lady, but you are prohibited from entering.”

Her eyes sharpened. “By whose order?”

“The Third Consort.”

She sneered. “I do not submit to the Third Consort. Make way.”

“My lady-”

“Step aside or I will make you.” Deo stood in front of his sister and swept his hand in front of the guards along with a flame threatening them. The two guards tensed up, but didn’t move aside.

“Let her in!” Beks looked over her shoulder and saw Luther approaching. His eyes were still red and he looked at the two guards. “I give her permission!”

Deo rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. “Of all the times he chooses to be useful.”

“Brother.”

The two guards glanced at each other and stepped back, clearing the way for them. Beks swept past them and marched into the courtyard. She ignored the doctors, attendants, and various strangers in the yard as she followed the dirt path to the room built against the back wall.

As she approached, she could feel the cold air coming from inside the open door. She could feel eyes on her as she entered the room. Her skin curdled at once in the chill air as the lanterns hanging above an elevated stone table illuminated a pale, bloated body half covered with a sheet.

She didn’t know what to expect. Her mother said to expect bloating and discoloration. She said that there was a good chance she wouldn’t be able to identify the body even if it was Laurence.

The dark-haired man on the table was the same height and may have been the same build when alive, but with no distinguishing features, how could they be sure?

But she knew this was a stranger. If they accepted him, it meant Luther was the new king. She clenched her fists. “This isn’t my foster brother.”

Her hoarse voice filled the cold room and across from her, the two doctors looked up from where they were examining the body and gave her sympathetic looks.

“My lady, bodies found in water-”

“This isn’t my brother!” Beks shouted and shot them a glare. She looked around the room and saw the Third Consort standing to one side, frowning. “Who is this? Where did you find him? This isn’t Brother Laurence!”

The Third Consort didn’t bother to look at her and kept his eyes on the body. “I understand that the lady is unwilling to believe it. I am unwilling, as well, but this is indeed King Laurence.”

“How do you know?” Beks said. She ignored Luther, who stumbled in behind her and gasped before being held up by a guard as his legs gave way beneath him. “You can’t even make out his face!”

“My lady, he is wearing His Majesty’s ring,” one of the doctors said. Beks followed his gaze to Laurence’s right hand, where a thick gold thumb ring was squeezed between flesh so swollen, it looked as if it were about to split open.

Beks shook her head. “That could be anyone’s ring.”

“My lady-”

“And how do you know that he was wearing a ring when he was taken?” Beks demanded. Laurence wasn’t wearing his ring when he was found in the bathing pool, as he removed it before he entered.

And if Lady Eleanor were in such a hurry to kidnap him, why would she stop to put his ring on his finger? The ring itself carried no actual power.

“Beks....” Luther had stumbled to the corpse’s side and scrutinized the ring as if it were his last hope. He paled and let out a choked cry. “It is his ring. Mother gifted it to him, as he was the Crown Prince.”

Beks shook his head. “Rings can be fake. Rings can be stolen.”

Luther looked at her, pained, and shook his head. “Beks....”

“How can you accept this so easily?” She almost shouted as she motioned to the body. Didn’t Luther have any doubts? She didn’t understand how one couldn’t in such a situation. “Aside from the ring, what else is there that could prove he’s your brother?”

“Someone take Lady Rebecca out of the room!” The Third Consort pointed towards the door and Deo shot him a glare before pulling Beks towards the doorway while she made a scene.

“Father, how do we deal with the preparations for Brother?” Luther stood languidly by the table, appearing as if he’d taken several blows and had his soul snatched out of him. His eyes crinkled up and his lip trembled. “We’re not ready...he wasn’t supposed to leave us so soon.”

“Luther.” The Third Consort softened his voice as he rounded the table to embrace his son. “I understand that this is difficult, but we must make the preparations to bury him soon.”

“Neither the sarcophagus nor the burial chamber has yet to be prepared! You can’t bury him!” Beks shouted, fighting against her brother to remain.

Luther looked at her and nodded. “Beks is right. We’re not prepared for another royal burial.”

“Then for now, we will shroud the body in the catacombs while a sarcophagus is prepared and a burial chamber unsealed. When they’re ready, we will go through the official burial procedures befitting a monarch,” the Third Consort told him.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Luther nodded his head numbly. “Yes...Yes, it’s only right to wait until we can give Brother Laurence a proper burial.”

“The kingdom is reeling from the King’s accident and then kidnapping,” the Third Consort said as he looked at the body. “No one expected any of this. When we announce that he has passed, especially so soon after your mother....” He trailed off and bit his lips as he turned his head to the side. “Luther, you must have your coronation.”

For a moment, Beks was so surprised she stopped struggling. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the Third Consort as if he’d lost his mind. They just claimed to find the king dead and he wanted his son to have a coronation? Was he crazy?

“Father, Brother Laurence just died!” Even Luther pulled away from his father’s embrace and stumbled back.

“The kingdom needs to be reassured! We’ve just lost our queen and now, our king,” The Third Consort said in a desperate voice. “If we don’t show that the royal family is stable; that the kingdom has a ruler, then we’re only inviting threats from enemies!”

Luther looked hesitant, but seemed to understand what his father was saying. “But...before we bury Brother Laurence?”

“Luther,” his father said, giving him a firm look. “We don’t have a choice. We need to stabilize royal power.”

This is absolutely ridiculous. I can’t believe this is happening. Beks stood in place, her eyes dull and her mouth almost agape as she listened to the father and son speak across the room. Surely, Luther won’t agree.

“Then when?” Luther asked. “Can we at least put Brother in the catacombs to rest while the entombment preparations are being made?”

You disappointing turnip!

“We’ll do so first. It isn’t fitting for the dead to remain in such a state,” his father replied. He took a deep breath. “The preparations for the late King’s coronation have been made.”

Beks snapped her head towards him and narrowed her eyes. “You want to make King Laurence’s coronation Prince Luther’s?” Her voice had dropped and she couldn’t help the disgust.

“Beks, we don’t have much choice if we are going to have a coronation so suddenly.” Luther seemed helpless.

He wasn’t the only one.

Beks stared at him for a moment, reviewing her situation wordlessly and coming to a conclusion that she feared. Without Laurence, she didn’t have political backing, and no matter what work she did to try to support the kingdom, no matter what she did to support Luther, she would only be used as, at best, a prop, or at worst, a scapegoat.

I tried, Foster Mother. I tried...but this isn’t going to work. She took a deep breath. “All right,” she said with a small nod of her head. “Do what you want. Bury a stranger in the royal catacombs and usurp your brother’s throne.”

Luther paled at once and was shaken. “I’m...I’m not-”

“Lady Rebecca, you are out of line! Simply because you cannot accept the King’s passing doesn’t mean that the kingdom comes to a standstill!” the Third Consort shouted.

“There is no use talking to you any further,” Beks said as she pulled herself out of her brother’s arms and straightened up. “I refuse to acknowledge this poor man’s corpse as the King’s. There is no law that prohibits me from doing so.” She took a step back and sent Luther a scathing glare. “And I would know, wouldn’t I?”

She turned around and walked out. She could hear Luther calling for her and heard her brother tell him it’s best to leave her alone for the moment as she was ‘grieving’.

Deo caught up with her when she reached the walkway back to the Old Tower.

“You’re going to end it?”

“Yes,” Beks said without looking back. “I want to speak to Mom and Dad. Once the coronation concludes, I will leave with you.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone home.”

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

She would be lying if she didn’t find some vindictive joy in watching the palace staff, Luther, and the Third Consort struggle to put together a proper coronation in such short notice. Even with all the resources prepared for Laurence’s coronation being used, there were hundreds of small details that required attention.

Everything from who could do what in the ceremony, what flowers could be used, what banners should be displayed, what ceremonial items were needed, where they were, and did they need to be cleaned before use were small details that weren’t noted, as she had taken care of them.

This had set back the date of the coronation for another two weeks after the initial date the Third Consort wanted.

Beks sat in the great hall of the Old Tower, looking over the chessboard as Thad sat across from her, glaring at the same board as if it had wronged him. Wrath was sitting on some floor cushions with a book on rare beasts on her lap.

“You should move the queen.” The little girl glanced up and then looked back at her book.

“It’s too early to move the queen,” Thad said, distracted.

Beks didn’t comment, preferring to allow her brother to make his own decision. Wrath let out a small snort and turned the page on to a horned serpent. “You can lose if you want.”

Beks cracked a small smile.

Since she left Luther and the Third Consort along with their faux king corpse, she’d shut herself up in the Old Tower, refusing to see anyone. Word was spread that she was grieving and unable to accept Laurence’s death, as well as Lady Eleanor’s betrayal.

Her father had told his peers with much distress that Beks saw them as her family and felt it was all moving too quickly. It was so bad; she couldn’t even review the proposals and projects that she used to. This effectively distanced her from any decision Luther made.

It also put Luther in a difficult place trying to figure out whether or not to grant approval to courtiers’ requests. How could he focus on his coronation when he was digging through books of law and policy for guidance? It affected his time with the new oracle, as well, as he didn’t have a moment to spare while bombarded with work.

Luther had come to the Old Tower at least twice to try to seek assistance, but Deo had intercepted him and reminded him of Beks’ pain, causing Luther to turn back to try to solve problems by himself.

Under past circumstances, Beks would have saved him for the sake of the kingdom, but she’d given up on him.

“Let him struggle,” she had said. “If the kingdom suffers, it’s by his hand. Not mine.”

The announcement of Luther’s coronation wasn’t a shock to anyone, as after several weeks, hope of finding Laurence alive had diminished. What was surprising was that the coronation was happening so soon.

It was enough to make nobles even more uncomfortable. After all, Laurence’s coronation was to take place a few months after the late Queen’s death. Luther’s coronation was taking place less than a month after Laurence’s supposed death.

Which was another problem. Beks had Nexus spread the rumor that the body brought back was fake. Within a few days, the entire capital wasn’t convinced, which then affected the opinions of the nobles and ministers, which in turn, frustrated the Third Consort.

A few nobles had voiced their opinions in having a coronation so soon and also questioned the validity of the corpse’s identity.

The chaos amused the Carolines to no end, and her parents and brother often returned to the Old Tower to laugh about it. It was one of the few things that brought them joy while they were prohibited from leaving the capital.

“They’re lifting the ban that keeps us here.” Her father strode into the great room and looked over the trio around the table. He craned his neck. “You should move the queen.”

Thad looked up and gave his father an annoyed look.

Beks glanced at her father. “When will the ban be lifted?” She’d have to prepare to leave, including resealing some of the workmen's tunnels and figuring out how to smuggle Laurence’s gold plats with her.

“After the coronation,” her father said as he took a seat, leaned back, and crossed his legs. “The court is displeased with the sudden coronation, so to placate them, the Fourth Prince said that all nobles residing outside the city will be allowed to leave the day after. Now, the court can’t wait for the coronation.”

Beks sneered. “The Fourth Prince and his father need approval.”

“The Five Houses, including myself, have remained neutral through this and haven’t voiced approval or displeasure. The Benevolent House and the Valorous House both want to return to their duchies. They don’t think the change of monarch will affect them much,” her father replied.

“Then once the coronation is over, we’ll leave,” Beks said without any fluctuation in her voice. “We should make the travel preparations now.”

“Your brother will arrange it, though I worry that they won’t let you leave so easily.”

Beks let out a bitter laugh. “I’m sure they can’t wait to see me leave. The Third Consort has always hated me. The Fourth Prince has his oracle; what does he need me for?”

“It’s good you know,” Wrath said from her seat. Beks looked at her and raised a brow. “I wouldn’t have stayed if my fiancé was having an affair.” She sounded short of calling her sister an idiot, but Beks didn’t admonish her.

She agreed.

Beks let out a tired breath. “If our engagement were normal, I wouldn’t have. I wanted to stay for the kingdom, but I have no place here. I’d just waste my time and effort, which can be better used elsewhere.”

“I’m excited that you’ll go home with us,” Thad said as he finally moved a piece on the board. “You left when you were three, so you haven’t gotten a chance to travel around Sagittate. There are so many things you should see. We have a lot of waterfalls, geysers, and food we can’t get here.”

“Why limit her to Sagittate?” their father said with a warm smile. “Why don’t we travel around a bit? See other places. Perhaps visit the West Islands, where your mother is from.”

Beks’ expression softened at the thought of traveling around with her family. It would take time for Laurence to recover and she could assist him to take back the throne then, but a few months, perhaps even a year, of exploring with her family wasn’t a bad idea.

She looked at her two younger siblings. Thad had been rather open with her, but she still felt that Wrath didn’t want to get too close to her. She’d like to bond with them more since she’d missed their entire lives so far.

“I’d like to do that,” Beks said as she picked up a piece from the board. “I haven’t left the city since I arrived.” She placed the piece down and Thad’s face dropped. “I win.”

Wrath looked at her brother, gloating. “I told you to move your queen.”

“Shut-”

“Do you want to play a round with me, Wrath?” Beks asked her sister in a gentle voice. Wrath turned her head away, appearing to avoid her eyes.

“I don’t want to play with you,” the child replied quickly and re-immersed herself in the book. Beks let out a disappointed sigh. Perhaps she needed to find something else to bond with Wrath.

“Beks,” a woman’s voice called from the stairs leading down to the entry way. She looked across the room as her father and brother stood up at the appearance of the Duchess. Her lips were drawn into a tight line and her eyes were narrowed. It looked like she had bad news. “The Fourth Prince is outside and wants to speak to you.”

Beks frowned, as well.

Thad turned to look at her. “You’re not going, are you?”

“Did he say what he wants?” Beks asked.

“I don’t know, but he’s with a servant holding a large box.”

“Perhaps it’s a pastry to win you over,” Thad said.

Beks narrowed her eyes and stood up. “I’d like to see what he’s selling.” She walked past her father and her mother stepped aside to let her down the stairs.

She emerged from the entrance to the Old Tower and stopped at the top of the stairs. Luther was standing in the yard, on the walkway, looking a bit out of place as a servant stood behind him holding a wide, flat box in his arms. Two royal guards stood just behind the servant.

Beks lifted her chin and made her way down the stairs. Luther’s head snapped up and he stood to attention as he saw her. Relief filled his face as he gave her a small bow of his head.

“Beks, you came to see me,” he said as he smiled.

“You came to me first,” Beks replied. “What are you doing here, Your Highness?”

He didn’t seem troubled by her question and took a step forward. “The coronation is in a few days and I’m hoping you’ll be there.”

Her family was required to attend as a matter of protocol, as were other nobles. “I will be present.”

Hearing her confirmation seemed to put him at ease. His gaze softened, appearing almost nostalgic. “I know you don’t approve of my coronation happening so soon, but, as a matter of solidarity, I know you will support me at that time.” She didn’t voice her agreement, but offered him a small nod of acknowledgment. Encouraged, he continued. “You’ve been grieving for my brother and hadn’t had time to prepare, so I’ve brought you a gift.”

He stepped to the side and motioned for the servant to come forward. Beks turned his gazes towards the servant proudly holding the box. “A gift?” A bribe?

“As my fiancé, many eyes will be on you,” he said. “I bought you a dress!” Luther’s face was filled with excitement and pride as he lifted the lid off the box to reveal soft, white fabric embroidered with lace. She could see orange crystals making flower shapes sewn onto a portion. It was an easy matter for him to get her measurements, as they were recorded with the royal tailor, so she knew it would fit.

“This is unexpected,” she said, keeping her voice even.

Luther was smiling from ear to ear, used to her calm responses. “I thought about all the dresses you usually wear and had one made in a similar style so you’ll feel comfortable wearing it. I also had pockets sewn in.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “I know you like pockets in your dresses.”

She smiled a bit in return. “Thank you for remembering.” Luther flushed. He looked down, almost shy before looking back up to meet her gaze.

“I am grateful for everything you’ve done, Beks. And I’m sorry for having disappointed you,” he told her, straightening his shoulders. “I will work harder to become a suitable king. I’ve spoken to my father and told him that you won’t be used as a tool for my reign.”

Beks nodded. “Your mother bled to keep the kingdom from being squandered and ruined. It is now in your hands.”

Luther bowed his head and took the box from the servant. He held it out in front of Beks like an offering. She didn’t give him any trouble, and accepted it with a small bow of her own.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

She didn’t know how to tell him that he’d done so already. She didn’t answer, instead giving him a curtsy and turning around with the box in her arms. She had already planned what to wear for the coronation ceremony, but had no problem wearing the new dress.

When she returned to the great room, her parents asked her what was in the box and Beks opened it to show them. Her mother was examining the dress when Deo arrived and narrowed his eyes.

“Did he send you jewelry, too?” he asked in a voice as his gray eyes glared at the dress, as if it offended him.

Beks shook her head. “No, why?”

Deo ground his teeth together. He lifted up a pocket watch from his inner pocket. Deo was gone most of the day to gather news from around town and to pick up a watch that he’d forgotten to put away and broke during training with their father.

“My watch was finally repaired at the jeweler. While I was waiting for them to retrieve it this morning, a royal servant was picking up women’s jewelry.”

Beks didn’t bat an eye, nor did she suggest that it could’ve been a misunderstanding. “It’s probably for the oracle.”

She checked the quality of the embroidery of the dress, but could feel the eyes of her family members boring into her.

“You’re fine with this?” her mother asked.

“Rather than being ‘fine’, I feel unbothered,” Beks said. She began to gather the dress and put it back into the box.

“Perhaps the jewelry is for you, but he hasn’t brought it yet,” Thad told her. She smiled and touched his head, knowing he was trying to comfort her.

“Thank you, Thad, but we both know it isn’t,” she said with a slight smile. She took the box from her mother. “I’m disappointed, but I’m not sad.”

Wrath scowled as Beks walked towards the stairs. “You shouldn’t even be disappointed.”

She paused. Her lips curled into a wry smile and she nodded. “You’re right...I shouldn’t be.”

She wasn’t disappointed when she tried on the dress. As expected, it fit and was almost a replica of her everyday dresses except there was more lace and crystal.

She wasn’t disappointed when she dug out old jewelry to wear. She had plenty that she wore exclusively to royal events at the Gilded Palace.

She wasn’t disappointed when she realized the tiara she’d been given at fifteen had broken a few gemstones off. Beks had laughed when she opened the case and saw two pearls and a smoky diamond had fallen onto the velvet lining. It was as if she wasn’t fit to wear it.

Aside from wearing more ostentatious jewelry and a shimmery new dress, Beks didn’t think she differed much from how she usually dressed as she looked in the mirror. In the past, royal events involved servants doing her hair in elaborate styles, decorating it with expensive hair ornaments. Her dresses were twice as fancy and following the latest capital trends.

In the past, she looked like a princess.

“You look beautiful, my dear,” her mother said with a warm smile as she stood at the doorway and looked inside.

Beks smiled and turned to face her. “You don’t think it’s too simple?”

Her mother was wearing the gown she’d brought for Laurence’s coronation, though significantly less jewelry than she originally planned. She wore a purple sash across her body to represent her status as a duchess and matched the sash across the Duke’s chest, which had several medals and pins on it.

The Duchess shook her head. “You should wear the clothes and accessories. The clothes and accessories should not wear you,” she said as she walked into the room. She lifted her hand and stroked back Beks’ long, orange bangs. “Are you sure you don’t want to put your hair up?”

“The less elaborate it is, the less I have to deal with it at the end of the night,” Beks replied. “As soon as it’s over, the ban is lifted and we can leave. I don’t want to stay here anymore, Mom.”

She saw a flash of heartbreak in her mother’s eyes before the Duchess nodded her head and leaned forward, kissing Bek’s forehead. “You will be free soon.”

“Are you ready to go?” Deo asked from the doorway.

Beks looked past their mother and nodded. She touched the large pocket sewn into her dress where a neatly folded royal order was being kept. “I’m ready.”

The family of five was escorted out of the Old Tower by a set of royal guards in their formal uniforms. The coronation happened at the church on the palace grounds, where most religious services took place. From the front of the Gilded Palace, the pathway had been decorated with flowers and banners along the walkway.

The orange carpet that should’ve been laid out along the path hadn’t been rolled out and the pedestals with the statues of popular and successful monarchs of the past hadn’t been set up to line the pathway. They were supposed to be placed there to remind the new monarch that the weight of succession was on his shoulders.

Guests were arriving for the coronation along with them and, outside of the royal family, guests entered the church and the reception by rank.

“It looks like we’re waiting on the Valorous House of Enidmore,” she heard her father whisper as they arrived. He immediately put on a jovial smile as they reached their peers. “I was worried we’d be the last ones to arrive when we’re staying on the grounds! I have to thank Philip when I see him.”

The other ducal heads laughed and welcomed the family. Deo and their mother were able to slip into conversation with the children and spouses, while Wrath seemed distracted with the decorated plaza in front of the church where they were waiting. Thad stood beside Beks and she felt him hold her hand.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

Beks softened her gaze at her youngest brother. “I am with my family. I am all right,” she told him.

“I apologize!” A voice boomed from behind them and they saw a middle-aged man with a bald head rushing forward with his wife and son. “We may get to enter first here, but not at the palace gates!”

“Are you really blaming it on traffic, Philip?” Duchess Latana asked with a raised brow.

“I’m just not used to Kadmium traffic. The east isn’t as busy and doesn’t have a thousand carriages on one street,” Duke Enidmore huffed.

“Your Graces, now that you have all arrived, we can seat you.” A uniformed attendant approached them and they quickly organized themselves into pairs, by family, and in order of oldest to youngest house. The houses rarely saw each other in person, but they knew how to function as a group.

The Noble House of Caroline was fourth in line.

The Duke and Duchess headed each family and their children followed behind them, youngest to eldest in pairs. Beks stood behind Thad and next to Deo.

She could smell the incense from the church before they entered. She could hear the bells ring signaling the beginning of the procession. In the plaza, various nobles and their partners were organized according to rank and then seniority by attendants. Unlike the Five Houses, whose immediate families were required to attend, only the reigning noble, their spouse, and their heir could come.

For marches and counties, the heir could bring their spouse if they had one.

Beks held her chin up as they walked past the groups standing around them, gawking. She’d entered that church hundreds of times, but this time, there was a sense of distance she’d never felt before.

Her family was seated close to the altar, where a large ceremonial throne had been placed and draped with orange fabric. Her eyes crinkled up.

That was the throne for a reigning monarch to sit on when someone in their family got married, not the throne for the coronation, which was larger, heavier, and had stone plaques embedded in the hardwood.

It’s not as if anyone will notice. I doubt people will know the difference.

“Why are they using the marriage throne?” Duchess Latana said with a dissatisfied sneer from in front of them.

“Perhaps the coronation throne was damaged,” Duchess Seneca replied.

“Then what’s the use of having royal artisans?” Duke Seneca whispered back.

Beks drew her lips inward. Never mind.

“They’re also missing the row of monarchs,” Duke Dumott added.

Her father smirked. “It’s almost as if they rushed this entire fiasco.” A few of his peers held back their muffled chuckles.

Her mother elbowed her father and cast him a silencing look. The church quickly filled up. When the guests were being seated, they weren’t announced, but they would be at the reception.

When the room was packed full, the bells in the bell tower rang once more. A man’s voice shouted from the back of the church and the guests looked back. The High Priest of Kadmium led the procession down the aisle with two rows of priests, a pair of priestesses, all holding ceremonial objects.

Then came the Third Consort dressed in what was likely new clothes. He wore his royal circlet and had an air of confidence about him. Any additional immediate family members should’ve been next, to come before the new king to be seated.

Instead, it was Oracle Elpidah.

Beks raised a brow. So that’s why I didn’t see her seated.... The new oracle was dressed in a somewhat fancier version of her robes, as was customary, but instead of a gold wreath around her head as was fitting of an oracle, she wore a glimmering tiara. A choker was around her slender neck that matched the tiara, and gauntlets that appeared part of the set had replaced gold bangles on here wrists.

According to what Beks read of oracles, the gold wreath was considered an oracle’s crown. It was a symbol of their ancient, honored position and they were to wear it at all formal events, including the royal events of different countries.

Tiaras were for royal princesses or future princesses.

Luther, in formal robes and a fur lined cloak that trailed two paces behind him, was ignored upon the sight of the oracle’s tiara. Beks could feel and see curious gazes directed towards her.

Wasn’t Rebecca of Caroline the Fourth Prince’s fiancée?

Why wasn’t she part of the procession?

Why wasn’t she wearing a tiara?

The hour-long ceremony went as normal. Prayers, oaths, ceremonial dressing, and blessings happened as planned. Beks watched it all with impassive eyes, as if the most important thing happening in the kingdom at the moment had nothing to do with her.

As the new king raised his scepter into the air to give his final vow, his eyes caught Beks and she saw him falter, as if doing a double take. He was able to recover quickly and unless someone was watching his eyes, they wouldn’t have noticed.

The ceremony concluded and they exited the church in the same order they entered. The royal family was ushered off somewhere to rest before the reception, but as Beks stepped out of the church, a servant familiar to her rushed to her side.

This particular young man was close to Prince - no, King Luther. Beks frowned. She didn’t want to call him that.

“My lady, His Majesty wishes to speak to you,” the young man told her.

“Right now?” Beks asked. The young man nodded and she looked towards her parents. She could see that her brothers didn’t want to let her go, but she gave them a small, comforting nod. “I’ll see you inside.”

She followed the young man into the Gilded Palace and into one of the spare parlors. Luther was standing, having the heavy regalia removed so he could attend the reception more comfortably. As soon as he saw her, he rushed over, ignoring the servant trying to remove his cloak.

“Beks, why aren’t you wearing your tiara?” he said as he reached for her hands. In the past, she’d raise her hands automatically so he could grasp them, but this time, she kept her arms at her side.

“It’s broken. Two of the pearls and the center stone broke off. It looks like the prongs snapped,” she said, matter of fact.

He looked alarmed. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gotten you another one!”

“It was too late by the time I inspected the tiara,” Beks replied. That wasn’t a lie. She’d only checked on that tiara an hour before the ceremony. It seemed she’d forgotten about it. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

He let out a heavy breath and shook his head, despondent. “Everyone will wonder why you’re not wearing it.”

“I have a good reason not to,” Beks said with a slight chuckle. “It’s all right, Your Majesty-”

“Luther!” The door opened once more and the bright, flushed face of the oracle appeared at the door. She slowed to a stop, her brilliant smile fading a bit as she saw them standing so close together. “Did I interrupt?”

Before Luther could answer, Beks smiled at her and shook her head. “Not at all. He only had a question on an important ceremonial detail,” she said. She looked back at Luther, still smiling. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. It won’t be noticed.” She bowed her head and stepped back to give him a curtsy. “I will see you at the reception.”

She stepped back and walked past the oracle, giving her a pleasant smile as she walked out. Luther didn’t have a chance to stop her.

At the reception in the freshly decorated Grand Hall of the Gilded Palace, Beks found her family waiting for her. Before they could ask if she was all right, she waved her hand and assured them everything was fine. She had some joy on her face, so her family didn’t push for more.

She took a glass of wine and stood beside her brother as her parents chatted with other nobles. Then, trumpets sounded from the entrance. All eyes turned to the double doors as chatter stopped in an instant. The Third Consort, who stood just to the side with members of his family, stood up straight with pride.

“His Royal Majesty King Luther Walter dun Kadmus!” The vice-chamberlain’s voice filled the room stuffed with people.

A couple appeared at the entrance and before they even set foot in the Grand Hall, guests began to murmur.

“Is he stupid?” she heard Wrath say under her breath.

Beks lowered her head and smiled. “You have no idea.”

On Luther’s arm, in the position where it was expected she was supposed to be, was the oracle. The beaming young woman happily walked beside Luther as they entered, giving everyone around them smiles despite the looks of confusion and, in some cases, aghast. The applause and cheers that they must’ve expected didn’t come the way they thought.

They weren’t overwhelmed with the guests’ welcome. The confusion and disapproval were palatable.

“Did you know this would happen?” Deo whispered in Beks ear.

“No matter what they think of his affair, I am still his official fiancée and the well-known Daughter with Dawn in Her Hair,” Beks whispered back. “I had a guess.”

The oracle’s smile faltered as they stopped in the center of the room. People stared unabashed and continued to whisper amongst themselves. Even the Third Consort, red-faced, looked as if his eyes were about to bulge out. At a time like this, the correct escort would’ve been the woman Luther’s mother chose from him - Beks.

Luther took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Esteemed ladies and gentlemen, my honored guests, I have an announcement!” Beks’ heart began to quicken with excitement. “As the King of Kadmus, I have decided to take both a Wife of Choice and a Wife of Convenience.”

Beks screamed internally. Was having two spouses for the ruling monarch unheard of? No. Was announcing taking a Spouse of Choice before one was married to the Spouse of Convenience unheard of? A hundred times yes.

She could already see the more conservative, older members of the court balk at Luther’s announcement, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t seem to understand that this was an incredible public affront to her.

“For my Wife of Choice, I have proposed to Oracle Iris Elpidah,” he said, casting the young woman an affectionate look. “And for my most honored Wife of Convenience, whom the kingdom cherishes and to whom I have the utmost respect, I will have my fiancée, Lady Rebecca of Caroline!”

No amount of flowery words praising her would ever be enough.

He searched the crowds for her and found her with her family, her head held up and back straight, appearing proud and regal like a proper future queen should’ve. His smile widened and he extended his hand to her.

Beks’ smile also widened.

“I, Rebecca Anastasia of Caroline, eldest daughter of the Duke of Caroline, formally break my engagement to King Luther Walter dun Kadmus,” she said as she reached into her pocket and took out the neatly folded parchment. “By Royal Order of King Laurence Thomas dun Kadmus.”