Acclayne Book 1: The Game Begins

King Humphrey gazed pensively out of the window. The rain was finally beginning to abate; though the change in weather did nothing to settle his mood. Joanne sat across from him, reading. She thought it best to preoccupy her mind with something trivial – she did not want any unnecessary stress troubling her unborn child. She felt the baby kick out and she massaged her swollen belly; it was a shame that the little one would have to be born into such troubling times.

The pair had confined themselves to their private chambers of late, as was suggested by the King's brother. He insisted that he be the one to sort out the conflict with Corthus and so was given full command of the army; allowing the Humphrey and Joanne to remain safe and out of sight. The King couldn't honestly say that he agreed with the idea, he wanted to give his people some words of encouragement, allay their fears – as King it was the least that he should be doing. If he were younger, and the birth of his child now imminent, then he would have insisted on riding out with the soldiers. Sitting around was hardly a productive way for him to be spending his time. He was akin to a bird in a cage – ever restless and wishing to be proactive.

The Queen, on the other hand, had welcomed the suggestion; moving around was becoming quite tiresome and she felt more comfortable having her husband close. His restlessness troubled her; however, and she longed for something to ease his mind, and as if by some miraculous design; there came a short, sharp knock on the door.

“Enter.” The King's response came quickly, his voice fraught with tension. Both he and the Queen watched as the door opened to reveal Prince Fofana. The King breathed an audible sigh of relief upon the sight of him.

The Queen smiled, “You are looking well. Does this mean you have good news?” Her voice was hopeful; her husband may not have noticed but his brother was nigh on glowing. She could feel the joy radiating from him and she basked in it – she couldn't help but feel that the worst was somehow over.

“Extremely good news... my Queen.” He said bowing low before them, his dark hair fell boyishly over his eyes as he rose. “The city of Corthus is under siege as we speak; the King was captured this morning and no one is to be let in or out until the matter is settled. The King is prisoner in his own castle.” He smiled wickedly.

“Thank The Mother.” The King breathed as he looked to the Heavens.

“Indeed.” Fofana practically purred with delight as he slowly paced the room.

“You have done well, all your plans have come to fruition.” Joanne smiled warmly at him.

“More than one may realise.”

“We are lucky to have you.”

“Then it is over? The threat to my throne? We are safe?” The expression on Fofana's face faltered for the briefest of moments, but the change was lost on the anxious King and Queen.

“Well-” he started as he circled their chairs; positioning himself beside the Queen. “I wouldn't say that.” He snaked his arm around her as Humphrey looked on helplessly. Fofana brought his mouth to her ear; she felt the heat of his breath on her cheek;

“With sincerest regret my Queen...” he whispered as he deftly produced a small silver dagger and plunged it into her swollen stomach. His wicked smile did not once leave his lips, not even when he pulled his arm free and she slipped to the floor.

Spurred into action the King rushed to her side, cradling her prone form desperately in his arms. His hand came to her stomach where red blossoms had already begun to form through her cream dress.

“Hold on darling, hold on- Guards!” He cried, but Fofana had slipped away, and no guards came to their aid.

“My love-” she could feel the heat draining from her and she knew that their unborn child was already dead. Slipping into unconsciousness Queen Joanne of Cortharen died with tears in her eyes, and her King was left to grieve alone.

***

“It is done,” she breathed, her voice full of a heady want for her Prince, “ and my husband is captured.” Fofana pushed her blonde hair aside from her face. Her flawless looks were akin to a china doll; the innocence of which hid her true power hungry nature. “Corthus is yours my sweet.”

He pulled her close to him by her waist, he did not think twice about what he had just done to his own flesh and blood, all he could think of was the effect that she had on his.

“No, ours.” He growled as he felt her body rub against him. She entangled her fingers in his hair and he kissed her ferociously; the adrenalin pumping through his veins served to amplify his need. “We shall finally unite the two kingdoms,” he uttered breathlessly, pulling away from her briefly. He felt the draw of her lips like a magnet, an unstoppable force which he had no intention of fighting. “The new King of Cortharen, and the Queen of Corthus.”

Her devilish grin was not lost on him as she murmured into his lips; “we shall be unstoppable.”