Chapter Talks Of Treason
“I will not stand for this insult!” Lady Emilia lay her head in her mother’s lap and wept. “Even in death that little whore plagues me.”
“Calm yourself now, my child.” Lady Caroline stroked her daughters raven hair soothingly as she tried to ease her disquiet. “I’ll have the King speak to your betrothed. He will sort this mess out. I promise.”
“What good will it do?” Emilia sobbed. “He won’t even speak to me. I, who carry his child, mean nothing to him. It’s all that whores fault. I wish he were still alive so I could kill him with my bare hands.”
“Shh.” Caroline cooed. “All will be well, leave it to mother. I’ll fix everything.”
Emilia cried herself to sleep in her mother’s arms. Caroline continued to hold her daughter as she contemplated what to do. The King wouldn’t listen to her. She knew this all too well. His ideas of women and omega’s were the same. Neither would good for anything but fucking and bearing children.
Oh how she hated that man. Marrying him was bad enough but the thought of lying with him, allowing him to touch her. It sent shivers up the woman’s spine. She had to ensure that Killian marry Emilia. It was the only way her plan would work. A woman could not rule Basmorte, that was set into law centuries ago. Only a male heir could rule. If the King died without a male heir then the throne would go to the husband of the King’s eldest daughter, Princess Alvinia.
Caroline couldn’t allow that to happen. Emilia must be Queen and Killian her King. There was no other way. Caroline looked down at her sleeping daughter and smiled. She knew what she had to do. The Grand Duke had arrived days ago to see his son. If Caroline could get the Grand Duke on her side well, things would go a lot more smoothly. It wouldn’t be that difficult. The Grand Duke was a fool and a coward. He left Killian to handle the estate while the Grand Duke locked himself away in his manor house and did God knows what. Caroline was honestly surprised that the man had even come to the palace. With Killian’s current state of mind though she figured the Grand Duke had no choice.
In any case, she could use the arrival of the Grand Duke to her advantage. He was a proud and arrogant man who cared more about public relations than he did anything else, including those he governed over. He could however, make a useful ally if Lady Caroline could sway him to her side. Easy enough to do once he found out that most of the nobles wanted Desmond gone as well. The Grand Duke tended to lean towards the side that had the better chance at coming out on top. His loyalty as changing as the weather.
Lady Caroline carefully lifted her daughters head and then slipped out from beneath her. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders then, leaving Emilia resting on the lounge, headed out to find the Grand Duke. If there was anyone who could speak some sense into Lord Killian perhaps it was his father. If not, well, Lady Caroline would just have to resort to more drastic measures to achieve her goals. Either way, Lord Killian would be married to Emilia. Caroline always got what she wanted. Always.
***
“Killian Thorn! You will open this door this instant, do you hear me?” Luther Thorn the Grand Duke of Grayholm stood at Lord Killian’s room, waiting for his son to answer. He’d been at the palace in Basmorte for two days and in that time, Killian had refused to see him, or anyone.
The Duke sighed in frustration as he turned and nodded to the servant beside him. “Open it.” He demanded.
The servant moved quickly, slipping the key into the lock and opening the door. The Duke pushed past him and entered the room. He found Killian sitting in an arm chair in front of the window in the receiving room. He looked a mess. His blond locks were uncombed and matted, his clothing disheveled, and his face looked gaunt and sickly. Even his blue eyes looked dull.
Killian didn’t bother to look up as his father entered the room. His gaze was fixed on the window, all his attention seemed focused on whatever was outside. As the Duke walked forward, he saw that what Killian was staring at was the garden below.
“What a ghastly sight.” The duke remarked as he turned up his nose at the once beautiful foliage. “The King should dismiss his gardener. They’re doing a terrible job.”
“Everything died when he died.” Killian said in a barely audible whisper. “It’s as though Rowan’s very presence was what kept them alive. Now it’s all decadence and decay. Blackened roses wilting without life left to give them breath they wither and die.”
Luther folded his hands behind his back then turned away from his son. He took small, slow, steps throughout the room, looking everything over. Killian had not allowed even servants to enter the room since Prince Rowan’s and so the room was as much a mess as he was. Clothing was scattered throughout, laying both on the floor as well as the sofa near the fire place. The fire had died out long ago making the room cold and dark. The candles had all burnt down and countless empty wine glasses littered the floors and table tops.
The Duke sighed as he observed the state of the room. Finally, he turned back around and faced his son. “Killian, you will stop this false mourning and come to your senses. Bathe, dress in some clean and appropriate attire, make yourself presentable then you will join me, the King, your future Queen and her lovely daughter, for dinner.”
“And, for what reason would I do that, father?” Killian looked up, for the first time, making eye contact with the Duke.
“To save face.” The Duke growled. “From what I’ve been hearing about your latest exploits I’m amazed that the King would even consider you an adequate spouse for his future step-daughter. As it is though, he and the future Queen are most insistent that you wed her.”
Killian scoffed at the idea. “I’m not going to marry Emilia, she’s a whore and, not a very good one I might add.”
“You will marry her.” The Duke declared, angrily. “The wedding is already set. Two days from now.”
“I refuse.” Killian turned to face the window once more, propping his chin on his hand his eyes once more diverted to the dying garden below.
“You will!” The Duke yelled. “Killian, I am sick to death of your behavior. You prance around like a peacock with it’s tail feathers out. You drink and whore around and in doing so make fools of our entire line. I can’t even bare to show my face at court because of you. This foolishness ends now before you run our family name into the ground.”
Killian snapped his head around and glared at his father. “Well I am sorry that your reputation is in jeopardy, father but I could honestly care less what those bloated, condescending, over confident, cox-combs at court think of me! I do not seek their favor anymore than I seek yours.”
“It is not my reputation that is at risk boy, but yours. And those cox-combs, as you call them, are the ones who will secure your place at court.” The Duke sneered. “So, if I were you, I would start to show them some respect.”
“But I am not you.” Killian rose from the chair then walked over to his father and stood nose to nose before him. “When are you going to get it through your head that I do not care about impressing anyone, least of all those snobs at court. I do not care about the aristocracy nor the royalty any more than I care about the peasantry. I will not bow down to them and kiss their asses just so they can laugh and talk about me behind my back when I am gone.” Killian turned then and, running his hand through his hair, walked to the window. Placing a hand against the cold, stone, wall, he dropped his gaze to the floor and sighed.
“I will not allow you to drag our family name through the mud.” The Duke narrowed his eyes as he stared at his sons back. “You will marry that girl and you will act the part of the loving husband. I don’t care if you love her or not. She carries your bastard, the least you can do is take responsibility for your mistake.”
Killian laughed bitterly. “Father, if I took responsibility for all my mistakes I’d have a dozen wives. And, those just the ones I know about.”
The Duke grit his teeth and grumbled. “I don’t care about peasant whores or servants. I do care about the future daughter of the King. Ignoring this mess could ruin you. Even if you don’t care about your reputation or the honor of our family, think about the benefits that this union will bring. You will be that much closer to inheriting the throne.”
Killian turned, staring at his father dumbfounded. “If you think the King would allow me to take the throne you’re more of an idiot than I thought. The only way the crown will rest of my head is if I took the Kings.”
The Duke nodded. “Marry the girl first before you start plotting the King’s murder.”
Killian huffed. “You speak of treason, father.”
“I’m not the only one.” The Duke confessed. “There’s talk among the people already. They’re tired of King Desmond and his politics. He caters to the rich while the poor suffer merely so he can line his own pockets. They are ready for a new King, a more attentive King who will listen to all the people, not just the ones who fill his coffers and boost his ego.”
“And so, you think we should be part of this mutiny?”
“Part of it?” The Dukes booming laughter echoed throughout the room.“My moronic son, I expect you to lead it.”
***
As the Duke exited Killian’s room he was met with Lady Caroline. He bowed at once to the lady. She stood before him looking regal and stern, her hands folded neatly in front of her skirts as her eyes bore into the older man. “My Lady.” He spoke as he rose. “I was about to come pay you a visit.”
“I’m sure. Have you spoken to Lord Killian?” She asked, her tone hard and demanding.
“Indeed I have, my Lady. He’ll marry the Lady Emilia. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Good.” Lady Caroline took a step forward as she locked eyes with the Grand Duke. “I need not remind you what’s at stake here, your Grace. The sooner our children wed the sooner we act.”
“I know what’s at stake.” The Duke narrowed his eyes. “You don’t need to hover over me as if I were some idiot child. I want King Desmond dethroned as much as you do and now that his wretched son has been dispatched, there’s nothing holding us back.”
“Careful what you say.” The Lady snapped at him, lowering her voice. “These walls have ears. Even on my way to see you I caught one of the King’s little cockroaches following me. I sent him off on a fools errand but there are more lurking in the shadows. Trust no one, your Grace. The King is not an imbecile.”
“Do you think he suspects anything?” The Duke asked, his voice thick with worry.
“Not yet.” Lady Caroline told him. “But he’s being cautious. A little too cautious. I don’t think he believes that Rowan would actually kill himself, he’s been asking questions. Far too many questions for my liking. We have to be careful as well or our plan will fall apart.”
“Odd that the King should be that concerned with the death of his son.” The Duke scratched his beard in contemplation. “I didn’t think he cared for the boy.”
“He doesn’t.” Caroline said coldly. “In fact, he’s glad the boy is dead. His only concern was whether Killian would hold the King responsible.”
“Then why should he care if the boy was murdered or not?”
Lady Caroline rolled her eyes. “You really are a brainless sot.” She hissed, ignoring the look of annoyance on the Dukes face. “If the King believes that his son was killed then it bears to reason that Rowan isn’t the only target of assassination. The King is on edge, looking around every corner. He may not suspect us yet but he does suspect that something is afoot. As long as we maintain our innocence, we should be fine. But speak of this to no one but me. We can’t know yet who is on our side and who is not.”
The Duke nodded. “I understand.” He assured. “I will speak to no one but you.”
“Excellent. Now, go to the King and assure him that the wedding will take place. I’ll take care of things on my end.”
Again the Duke bowed. Lady Caroline nodded and the two went their separate ways.
Two more days. Lady Caroline thought as she walked the long hall back to her own chambers. Two more days and the wedding of the century will take place. Oh, how surprised my fiance will be then.