- - -
King Henry sat on his throne for the first parliamentary meeting of the season. Queen Josephine sat to his right with an elegant smile, and their son was to his left, expressionless and regal. He was sometimes worried that his mother and the tutors she’d found for him were too strict on him, but he had to admit the result was impressive.
His wife certainly wanted to make sure their son didn’t turn out weak like he did, and though she’d mostly succeeded, he had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t like the announcement that would be made today. Quite inappropriately, he gloated. He did want to take down House Avington, but it would be satisfying to see Baron Bryant’s expression when he realized the secret weapon he was so proud of wasn’t working so well, and his wife’s face, too.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you’ve all had a wonderful summer, and I welcome you back to the parliament…”
He made a short speech, getting it over with as quickly as he could. Everyone knew it was a mere formality, since he usually dealt directly with the cabinet. There was a round of polite applause, and the meeting officially began. The royal secretary read out the declarations and decisions that had been made over the summer, and a smile slipped onto the king’s face.
“Lastly, after being betrothed for nine years, His Highness, Prince Oscar, is to be engaged to Lady Valentina Avington. His Majesty, King Henry, will be hosting a dinner reception a week from today.”
The parliament erupted in whispers. Baron Bryant looked up slowly, glaring at him, and he lifted an eyebrow in response. Hadn’t he forced them to wait nearly a decade just so he could get his so-called assurance, even at the cost of allowing Damian Avington to grow up into a weapon of mass destruction? This was all his fault! The king would make sure to point that out at their next unfortunate meeting.
Meanwhile, Grand Duke Avington answered congratulations with formidable pride, intimidating as ever. It was a grim reminder to King Henry that though he felt a brief satisfaction over the baron, this would not benefit in the long run. Still, the plan was at such a stalemate in fear of Damian Avington that there was no harm done granting his boy’s small wish, as a sort of apology for what was to come and what was already being done. The king shoved his guilt down further and hoped his son wouldn’t blame him too much.
His wife’s cold gaze penetrated the side of his head, but he didn’t turn to look at her. He didn’t want to see the tender brown eyes he’d once fallen in love with and wonder again what had become of them.
King Henry gazed upon the parliament with weariness. He faintly wondered that if against all odds, Oscar’s marriage went through, would it end like his? Ah, well, he supposed they would never find out.
- - -
It was night. Queen Josephine stood at the window of her sitting room, looking out into the royal garden. Her lips were pursed, the closest she allowed her expression to get to a displeased sneer. She’d scolded her husband thoroughly for not consulting her on the matter of her own son getting engaged, until she was satisfied that his apology was filled with genuine shame. Now it was her son’s turn.
A polite knock came at the door. “Mother?”
“Come in, Oscar.”
She heard him open the door and step inside, but she did not turn.
“I didn’t think you had time to visit your poor old mother, since you were so busy that you didn’t have the time to tell me that you wanted to get engaged.”
“I’m sorry.”
The queen swirled around and glided to meet her son. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders, every bit the perfect gracious queen and caring parent.
“I’ve raised you well, no? Why, you’re the best leader the future of this kingdom could hope for.”
“Yes, Mother.”
She smiled, and slapped him. He had grown strong enough that his head barely turned, but a slight red print was nonetheless forming on his pale cheek. Her voice remained genial and warm.
“What were you thinking, dear? Have I not made myself clear that you aren’t to move forward with that girl?”
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“Yes, Mother, but-”
“Doesn’t it hurt?” She held his cheek.
He gazed back at her, his eyes dull but unflinching. “No.”
“It is good that you’re not too weak, but I hope I won’t need anything harsher to knock some sense into you.”
He did not answer. Queen Josephine studied her perfect son, and though she was still angry at him, she couldn’t help but be proud of her masterpiece. It hadn’t been easy, especially since he was Henry’s son, but she’d managed to make him a thousand times better than his father. She’d lost hope in her husband a long time ago, but she knew her son would be a king that went down in history. Her legacy would be remembered.
“You’re not a fool, dear. You know very well that she only cares for your crown.”
“Yes, Mother.”
His voice held no emotion, but as a mother, she could always see right through him. She would never risk wrinkles from frowning, but her brows did furrow.
“She’d take your power for herself. She could destroy you without batting an eyelash. You deserve someone nice and stupid, who isn’t interested in politics but will support you unconditionally, like I do with your father.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Will you obey in the future?”
“Yes, Mother.”
His voice trembled, because there were no secrets between them, so there was no point to the farce shown to the outside. Her smile had faded before she’d noticed it, and her voice had dropped to become venomously icy. She felt him relenting, only to her, and was satisfied.
“Good. You know how difficult it already is with your sister, so I’m glad that I don’t have to worry about you. For some time, I actually suspected that Avington girl was drugging you!”
“You’re certain she’s not?”
“Of course.” The queen snapped. “She can’t be bribing all the royal doctors, because we’d long be dead, in that case. Your headaches are simply from stress and overwork. You could have another examination, if you’d like, but I doubt they’re going to find anything they haven’t found the last hundred times. The medicine they prescribed is working, no?”
“Yes, I suppose. Then, I should retire for the night.”
“Very well. Good night, dear.”
“Good night, Mother.”
Queen Josphine sighed, ready to go to bed herself, but her son’s retreating figure caught her eye. It alarmed her, the defiance in his pace. She thought back to the past decade, how she’d firmly believed that she always knew what her son was thinking, even as he grew more emotionless to others. She had to admit that she could no longer tell his exact thoughts, but she’d trusted that she knew what he felt.
Yet his composure… It was like Henry, so many years ago. The hardest he’d fought against her, stupidly trying to save his brother’s life, unaware that he would never do the same for him. He grew colder to her after that, though she’d always thought he’d come around. She’d stopped waiting for his understanding, however, when Oscar was born, and she found a new and better hope in him.
Could she really be sure that Oscar would listen to her and give up on that girl? Henry had given in, but he’d always been weak. Yet in a moment, he was gone from her room, and the notion of anything other than absolute obedience seemed ridiculous. She laughed to herself and decided to relish again in all that she’d done for the royal family.
Everything was fine, and she didn’t need to worry. She was the queen, and Oscar was under her control. Valentina Avington would never thwart the power of House Stoneshire, and she certainly would never marry her son.
- - -
“Oh, darling, isn’t it wonderful?”
It was after dinner, and Father, Mother, and I were in our sitting room. Gifts had begun to arrive at noon, during the recess of the parliamentary session. Even now, a maid would occasionally enter the room to deposit a box on the table, where a good pile was already stacked. Mother was holding a necklace of beautiful and large pearls and examining it under the lantern. The workmanship was magnificent and it must’ve been extremely expensive, though that was only appropriate, since God knew our allies weren’t short of money.
“Baron Helmdon really has good taste. Darling, you ought to let him handle that new bridge project!”
Father nodded with a grin.
“I was already thinking of that. He certainly has a talent for knowing exactly which areas to skim from while making the paperwork look perfectly all right. But the important thing is if you like it, my angel.”
I glanced at it and waved dismissively.
“I agree that we should let him handle the bridge. That necklace could be a fine addition to my collection, but Annalise already gave me one almost exactly like it for my birthday, except the pearls were bigger. It was good of him, though I’m afraid my expectations have rather grown after that giant strand you received from the Isvorian ambassador, Mother.”
“That’s true, but perhaps it’ll layer nicely. Besides, everything in this kingdom will be yours one day. That’s what you’ve always wanted, and now you’re taking another step towards it. Oh, I’m so proud of you, darling.”
Mother spun around and pulled me into an embrace. I hugged her back, and when we let go, Father wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders.
“I was worried, especially about Oscar, and I still am, so I want you to always remember, my angel, that you have the full might of House Avington behind you. I know that you’ll be able to handle whatever crap he throws your way, because you’ve got your eyes on the goal, just like your mother.”
He kissed her on the cheek, and they both smiled. The familiar warmth swelled up in my chest, because I could never get tired of how much I loved them.
We were House Avington, and we were powerful. Come hell or high water, we got what we wanted. One day, the world would be ours.