Shadows Of Desire

Chapter Nocturnal Whispers



The haunting words of the old crone crept into Queen Caroline’s mind and took root like a weed in a flower bed. A child of tuatha would take her head. That was a part of the old crone’s prophecy that Caroline hadn’t expected. It was concerning to be sure, but nothing she couldn’t handle. In fact, she already had a plan forming even before she reached the gates of Basmorte and crept past the guard, undetected, like a specter in the night. No one, Fae or otherwise, was going to overthrow her. Not when she had worked so hard to obtain her throne. No one would take it from her now. She would make sure of that.

Entering the Palace, Caroline pulled back the hood covering her head and moved through the darkness with the stealth of a cat. No one had noticed her return. As far as anyone knew, she was already in her chambers, readying herself for sleep as the morning sun began to rise, marking the end of another night and the dawn of a new day. Caroline however, couldn’t sleep. Not with the threat of death hanging over her head as it was. She needed to take action, and quickly. Slipping into a passage way known only to royalty, a few select servants, and the captain of the guard, Caroline made her way, unseen, to the King’s solar.

With a satisfied smirk, the Queen realized that never again would the King enter the room in which he’d spent so much of his time brooding and drinking away the hours in silent self-deprecation. Never again would he bark out orders or ridicule servants from the shadows of his sanctuary. The Queen had seen to that. It had been the plan all along and it had played out rather easily. More easily than she had thought. No one in Basmorte mourned the King’s passing. Searching for his killer was just a technicality but no one really cared if he was caught. No one demanded justice for the slaying of a King they hated. The Kingdom was glad just to be rid of him.

Still, this nagging fear had managed to creep it’s way into Caroline’s mind all the same. What if someone did suspect her? Would they hail her a hero or demand her head? Could her crime really go undetected or would her sins come to light in the end? And what of this Fae child? Would he or she be the one to discover the Queen’s dark secret? The fear of being discovered gnawed at her relentlessly, burrowing deeper and deeper inside her mind. Every sound made her jump, every shadow seemed to shield prying eyes and she was almost certain that she had been followed though there was no one else there.

Pulling off her cloak and throwing it over the back of a lounge chair, she walked to the large arm chair near the hearth. Many times she had seen the King retire to that very chair and sit, staring wordlessly into the flames of the fire. Every major decision he had ever made had been made from that chair. Now Caroline, the Queen, sat in the chair and with it felt the heavy burden of ruling a Kingdom. It was time for the Queen to make a decision as ruler that she knew would change the future of Basmorte forever. The outcome good or bad, Caroline had no choice. It must be done, for her sake, and Emilia’s as the future Queen. She had to secure the throne. There was no other way.

“Maud.” The Queen called out, her voice thick with authority. A moment later and the door opened, revealing a ladies maid dressed in a servants gown with her silver hair pulled into a tight bun atop her head. Caroline gave the woman a stern look as she entered the solar and bowed. Caroline hated the woman and made a mental note to have her dragged to dungeons with the rest of the Fae once all was said and done. It wasn’t that she was a poor servant or even disloyal. On the contrary, she took great pride in her job and did it well. What Caroline hated about the woman was how she had always seemed to favor Rowan over Emilia. Always so quick to defend the little bastard and she had coddled him far too much.

Caroline would have beaten the boy senseless on more than one occasion had Maud not intervened and saved him from Caroline’s wrath. It infuriated Caroline to no end that anyone, least of all a servant, should defy her but she had not yet been Queen and therefore could do nothing about the stupid old woman. Her time will come. Caroline thought to herself. Let her death be a lesson to all. No one will ever disrespect me again.

"Maud.” The Queen spoke to the maid, giving the woman an icy glare that sent shivers down her spine. “Bring Greagor to me at once.”

Maud bowed. “Yes, your majesty.” She said before turning and leaving the room through the door she had just entered. The Queen picked up a glass of wine that another servant had quickly filled for her and sipped it as she waited for the Captain to arrive.

***

Greagor was not pleased to be summoned from his bed and told that the Queen wished to speak with him. Still, it must be something important if she chose to send for him at such an hour. The sun was already beginning to rise. Most of the Kingdom was already asleep or preparing for sleep. If the Queen were still awake then something must have been weighing heavily on her mind. Perhaps she had some news about the assassin or perhaps it had something to do with Lord Killian and his attack on the Princess Emilia.

Greagor still had no idea what had prompted the Lord to strike out the way he did but the report from the guards stationed at his door was a distressing one. Tales of treason and murder were now spreading among the guard as an ill wind blew through the castle walls. Lord Killian was safely contained within the tower though and not an immediate threat to anyone. Soon he would stand trial and be sentenced. Unless, Greagor groaned, unless the Queen chose to end him sooner. That would not go over well with the council and honestly, Greagor was beginning to suspect that the Queen had something to hide. How would he respond if she ordered him to murder Lord Killian?

Greagor’s loyalty was to Basmorte, not the Queen and he was beginning to realize the differences between the two. Caroline wasn’t a tyrant like King Desmond had been but she was wicked and self-serving. She cared little-if at all-for the people she meant to rule and that was a problem for Greagor. He served Basmorte, the people, as well as the royal family but, he had to ask himself, which was more important? Without question he already knew the answer to that dilemma. The people would always come first. They had to. Without the people, there would be no Kingdom. Without the people, Basmorte was nothing. A good monarch would know that. A good Queen would put her people first. Greagor’s loyalty was to the people, the Queen be dammed.

Greagor knocked at the Queen’s door and after a brief moment he was given permission to enter. Pushing the door open, Greagor walked into the solar and immediately knelt before Caroline. “You sent for me, your majesty?”

The Queen waved her hand for Greagor to stand as she addressed him. “Some distressing news has come to my attention.” The Queen spoke but her voice was as emotionless as her face, cold and stoic. “I have learned that the Fae are conspiring against me, against the crown. It began with the assassination of our dear and beloved King. The King’s murderer has escaped us and I am certain now that he had been given shelter somewhere within the Kingdom. The slaves aide him, hide him, and in doing so have committed treason. They must be dealt with, and harshly. I can not allow an uprising amongst the slaves. They would cripple us.”

“I understand your concerns, your majesty but, how can we punish someone when we know not who the true enemy is? I have sent my men to every house in Basmorte. No one knows anything about this rouge servant that attacked you. We are no closer to finding his identity than before.”

“If you can not find the man responsible for the King’s death then you will punish those who harbor him.”

“Give me names.” Greagor said, frowning as he narrowed his eyes. “I will arrest the guilty bastards myself.”

“I do not have this information.” Caroline sipped her wine but her eyes never left the Captain. She watched as confusion crossed his face, mixed with a hint of dread.

“Then how...”

“Arrest them all.” The Queen snapped before Greagor could even pose the question to her that he was about to speak. “All the Fae within this Kingdom. Arrest them, adults and children alike. Burn their homes and all of their belongings and on the eve of the fall harvest, we shall build the greatest bonfire that this Kingdom has ever seen and one by one, each of the prisoners shall be cast into the fire as an offering to Sheul.”

Greagor stared at the Queen in shock. His eyes wide and full of horror. “But, My Queen. To do something so vile, and on the eve of the autumn equinox...tis blasphemy. Surely such a thing would bring the wrath of the tuatha down upon us.”

The Queen was on her feet in an instant. She threw her wine glass across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. Greagor cringed as the Queen’s raged fill glare bore into him. “I am Queen.” She hissed. “My word is the law. Do you think I fear some silly Faerie superstition? You will do as I command or I will choose another as Captain of the royal guard and have you tossed into the flames along with the Fae. Have I made myself clear on this matter?”

Greagor pursed his lips then bowed. “Yes, your majesty. Perfectly clear.”

“Good, now go. And do not ever question me again.”

Again, Greagor bowed, then turned on his heels and left the Queen’s sight. Outside, in the corridor, Greagor stopped and let out the breath he’d been holding. Things were even worse than he’d feared and suddenly he began to wonder if the Queen had lost her mind. Possibly the grief of losing her husband was too much for her to bear and now, she was hellbent on getting revenge, striking out at those whom she saw now as her enemy. Greagor could understand the need to punish those responsible but what she was doing was criminal.

It seemed as though he had a decision to make. Go against his Queen and refuse to carry out her orders or do as he was commanded and commit mass murder. The answer was clear to him. He could not condemn innocent people to death, no matter who commanded it. He had to stop her. The only recourse he had was to go to the council and inform them of the Queen’s plan and let them deal with her. He had to be smart about it though. She could not suspect him. He would gather up the Fae as the Queen had commanded and arrest them. There was still time before the autumn equinox. Once he’d carried out her orders, he would go to the council. He just hoped they would side with him and not the Queen.

***

Few knew of the secret passage way that led from the solar to the Queen’s personal bedchamber. There were many secret passage ways within the Palace walls but this particular one had been kept secret from all but the King himself and then Caroline who had only learned of it a week prior to her wedding. The narrow passage way was wide enough for only one person to fit through at a time and the ceiling was so low that Caroline had to lean over when walking through it. It was also covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs despite how often the King himself had used it.

At the end of the passage way was a winding staircase going up until stopping on the floor where the royal suites were located. Caroline pushed on the door and it opened behind a long tapestry that reached the floor. When the door swung closed again, the tapestry fell back into place, concealing the door perfectly behind it. ”If the castle is ever under siege,” The King had told her, ”Take this route down to the solar and escape out through the garden doors. There is a door to the dungeons hidden behind a rose bush. Go through the dungeons till you reach the north gate then follow the stream to the mountain keep.”

Caroline took the words to heart as it was the only time the King had shown any real concern for her well being. She wasn’t so naive as to think he actually cared though. He told her this only in the event that she was with child and needed to escape. He would not risk the life of the son he so craved. Still, the Queen was grateful for the information as it had come in handy. The passage way was an easy method of going between rooms without being seen by the servants. She preferred it that way. No one needed to know her business but her.

Once she had reached her rooms she quickly went about getting ready for bed. The heavy drapes on the windows blocked out the morning light and the only illumination in the room came from the candle that she had carried with her to the room, which now sat on the bedside table. So far everything was going to plan. Greagor would round up the Fae and on the eve of the equinox, they would all be put to death. Whoever this tuathan child was, they would not see the sun rise on the following morning and Caroline’s reign would continue.

She walked to her bed, her elegant silk gown cascading around her like a river of dark night. The room lit with the soft, ambient glow of the candle, casting intricate patterns on the walls. As she pulled back the soft comforter on the bed, she felt a sudden, bone-chilling draft. The ornate curtains billowed, and the candle flame flickered and danced as if a ghostly presence had entered her chambers. She turned slowly, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach, to see a figure materializing near the window.

She gasped. There, standing mere feet from her was the ghostly figure of her husband, King Desmond. His once-dashing countenance now marred by the spectral pallor of the dead. His eyes glistened with the same cruel glint of malice that he had seen in Caroline’s eyes the night she’d killed him. Those terrible eyes, once icy blue and full of life, now bore into her with hateful accusations.

“Desmond?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

The ghostly figure of the king remained silent at first, his gaze piercing through her very soul. Caroline felt a cold sweat break out across her brow as the room seemed to grow darker around her.

“Caroline,” he finally spoke, his voice a haunting whisper that chilled her to the bone.“Did you think you could bury you guilt as easily as you buried me?”

Caroline stumbled backward, her hands trembling as she clutched at the fabric of her gown. “Desmond, I-I swear I didn’t...”

“Do not lie to me!” The King bellowed, his voice full of rage. “You and I both know the extent of your sins!” Desmond’s spectral form drew closer, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “You betrayed me, Caroline. Murdered me in cold blood. For power and ambition.”

Caroline narrowed her eyes as she stared at Desmond, anger gripping her suddenly as she recalled the King in his life. His cruelty, his petty taunts and insults. All that she had endured, all to gain his trust. Every negative feeling she had for the man suddenly rising to the surface and she could no longer keep her loathing subdued within her as it all came rushing to the surface and spewing from her mouth like blood gushing from an opened wound. “You were weak!” She hissed. “Too weak to rule this land. You let the Fae gain too much control and you bowed down to the elven King when you should have destroyed him.”

The ghost of her husband shook his head slowly, his voice laced with bitterness. “Your lust for power has cost you your soul. And it will cost you more still.”

Caroline could feel the room growing colder, the very air heavy with the weight of her crime. The candle light flickered wildly, casting eerie, dancing shadows across the floor. Still, Caroline stood firm, not allowing her emotions to overtake her. “And what would it have cost me had I allowed you to live? You’d have had me killed the moment I bore your heir and do not deny it. I knew that was your plan, have known it all along. You, the coward King who trusts no one, who loves no one. You would have murdered your own son had I not done it first!”

Caroline suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth when she realized what she had just said.

Desmond did not respond at first. Instead, he floated closer to her, his translucent form shimmering in the darkness. Caroline could see the anguish in his eyes as he finally spoke, his voice echoing through the chamber like a mournful wail. His eyes blazed with anger, his words filled with a solemn warning. “I have done many terrible things in my life and now, even in death, the faces of my victims haunt me. There is no place for me to run to, no where to hide. My sins follow me, night after night. I am in constant torment. This, my dear wife, is what awaits you too. The blood of the innocent stains your hands, and their spirits cry out for justice.”

Caroline’s face contorted with a mixture of frustration and defiance. “I did what I had to do to survive and I would have done no differently if I had to do it over again. That is the difference between you and I, Desmond. I fight while you bend the knee and take whatever scraps are handed you. You could have been a great ruler but instead you chose to remain isolated, hidden in this shadowed Kingdom while your enemies laugh at you and your own people despise you. If you expect me to repent my sins and show remorse for all I have done then you are as much a fool in death as you were in life. I regret nothing. I am Queen and will bow to no one, not man, beast, nor spirit. So go, leave me, be dead. You have no place here anymore and I am not in need of your counsel.”

Her husband’s ghost shook his head slowly, disappointment etched across his spectral features. “You can’t escape the weight of your sins, Caroline. The ghosts of your deeds will haunt you.”

Caroline’s defiance remained unshaken. “Leave me be, Desmond. I have a kingdom to rule, and I won’t be swayed by ghostly apparitions.”

“Make amends, Caroline, or else vengeance will come and it will be swift and merciless.”

With the last words of warning spoken, King Desmond’s ghost slowly began to fade away, leaving Caroline alone in her chamber, her heart pounding with a mixture of rage and determination. She refused to let the ghost of her husband dictate her choices or weaken her resolve. His warning had fallen on deaf ears as Caroline refused to believe that anything could touch her now. Once the Fae had been dealt with all of her worries would fade into the darkness as surely as the King’s ghost had faded into nothingness, and her future would be secured.


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