CH 4

The silence that had fallen over the gardens seemed to last an age. Iveca had found a spot on the ground and stared a hole through it, trying desperately to keep a lid on the rage that was bubbling up inside her. Anriq said nothing, only occasionally glancing at the woman who had been his only friend for so long. His mind wandered back; their storied past running through his head, his stoic face not betraying the raft of memories that flooded in. He saw them, as children, running through the very grounds they stood silently in now so many years later. As he dwelled on this, Iveca finally spoke.

“…Were you always pretending to look after me?”

Anriq raised his head. An inquisitive look, tinged with worry, spread across his features.

“Pretending?”

Iveca shot him a glare.

“You never once held my hand, you know. You talked a lot about how much you cared, but… Did you ever show it? You come to me now, begging me not to accept the proposal from the King. But you wouldn’t try to take his place, would you? So why are you trying to stop me?”

Iveca looked at Anriq with a resentful gaze. Before entering the Bureau of Investigation, she had willed up everything in herself to ask him a difficult question – to get married. To run away together, away from her so-called family and her life here. He had refused, saying that he couldn’t betray the Count’s kindness, and then pledged himself instead to the royal guard. She had never really forgiven him for it. A part of her hated him for it. But so much more of her, in the saddest possible way, knew that he was the only person that she could talk to. She was treated like an object rather than a person in the Count’s estate, and right now she felt like her only true friend was doing the same thing.

“Ive…”

“Don’t ‘Ive’ me, Anriq. Four years I knew nothing, no one. And in that time, since you left the Count’s estate, you haven’t looked for me even once.”

Anriq paused a moment, considering his words.

“It has been difficult for me too, you know”.

Her surprise at his reaction softened her a little, but before she could respond Anriq had already passed her and walked away across the garden. She got to her feet, calling after him.

“Anriq, wait!”

But he was gone, uncatchable in the darkness. She saw the faint silhouette vanish altogether and he was gone completely.

Iveca’s mind was racing now. The anger and frustration of before had gone, replaced with a deep confusion and a worry for her current situation.

He said the Queen’s seat was not good for me? I guess the same goes for Daniel, if what he has said about him is true… and this missing woman… and Anriq.

Iveca never thought she would be so heartbroken to be able to see someone she cared about every day. She certainly wouldn’t make a good Queen for King Daniel if affection were the only standard to be measured.

Weakness? she scoffed. She was sick and tired of living with the weight of her own weakness. She knew the rumors about her heritage, and it felt that no matter what she did or how well she did it she would always be living in that shadow. No doubt, she thought, knowing my mother, my real father really was a handsome young stableman… if the looks she got in the hallways were anything to go by, this was probably true. But no matter how curious, or how hurt she was, the moment she publicly asked that question she might be thrown out of the family for good, for rocking the boat and breaking the balance of silence. It wore her down every day and she had no one to turn to. Except for Anriq…

Iveca looked still into the dark night sky and raised her hand to cover the moon. She hated herself for being under the moonlight. She was just a superficial Queen that was going to be used. She ran to the Bureau of Investigation to get out of her frustrating life, but then came back, as though she were bonded to this awful place. Maybe she was simply wrong from the start; she was a person who could not even pursue ordinary affection or happiness in the first place.

Iveca sat alone in the backyard for a long time. As always, no one looked for her as the sun began to rise.

*

Usually, a wedding day would be cause for celebration for everyone involved. But Iveca felt no joy at the events unfolding in front of her, not even once they had come to a noisy conclusion.

The fact that the Queen was attached to the House of Esselburn, a neutral aristocrat representative, also meant that she once again felt the pressure of what Daniel would do, or would not do, in the future. Everyone knew that King Daniel, the Third Prince, hadn’t fought for the throne. In fact, circumstances seemed to align almost perfectly to thrust the unwilling prince upon it. Which meant no one knew exactly what his goal was.

It was these mysteries that plagued Iveca, assigned to a splendid Queen’s Palace after a hectic wedding, while she sat in a chair and let the whirlwind of the day pass over. She had been looked after as a Queen would expect to be; the ladies-in-waiting helped her bathe and even applied a lot of perfumed oil on her, but it did not feel real yet.

She took a moment to take in her surroundings. The palace was spectacular and drenched in history; the previous Queen, Testy, who had murdered her predecessor Suzanna, had died here after a guilty verdict at her trial. This place was not one of peace. Iveca always thought everything was momentary, but the things that had happened here remained – soaked into the walls and dripping down onto the current generation. Would she leave a legacy like they had? Not so bloody, she hoped to herself.

The King, her now-husband, came into the chamber with a rather tired face. Iveca faced him without changing her facial expression, or letting her body betray her mind. Daniel sat across from her and smiled.

“You worked hard today. You should be proud of yourself.”

They had performed ceremonies in front of the crowd in uncomfortable yet colorful outfits, had their first dance at the celebration party, and received all kinds of greetings and gifts throughout the day. The whole time, Iveca had not let her smile drop but now, in the quiet of the palace, she showed extraordinarily little.

“We are supposed to be planning a honeymoon right now, though I hardly think the climate is one for a holiday, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It’s okay.”

Iveca sighed before she could stop it. She was spared having to explain herself to a curious Daniel by the arrival of the ladies-in-waiting, who had brought tea for them both. Iveca knew that custom dictated she serve the first tea of their marriage, and she had been forced rather unwillingly to practice it repeatedly. As if she did not know how to serve tea. But again, she wore a smile through it. The easier she made things, the easier they would be going forward, she reasoned. She lowered the pot with a trembling hand, while Daniel stared at her with his chin resting on his own hand.

It is quite unnatural to have him gazing at me, thought Iveca. She had returned the looks as much as she could, smiling sweetly enough to at least give the appearance of affection for him throughout the whole wedding. But now, the privacy of just the two of them left her feeling rattled by the looks he gave her.

Drinking the tea that she handed him, he opened his mouth gently and spoke.

“Typically, the Queen attends meetings of the royal or aristocratic families.”

Iveca nodded.

“I do not wish for you to attend these meetings.”

Without her knowing, Iveca looked at him in surprise. He spoke slowly.

“I do not want you becoming involved with any political affair. I hope you can understand my reason for this.”

Iveca knew, of course. It is not possible for employees of affiliated organizations to express their political preferences, and she was still an employee of the Bureau of Investigation. There was nothing wrong with Daniel’s comments, only the facts, but it was the delivery of the remarks that left Iveca feeling a little nervous.

‘You are just a superficial Queen that is going to be used.’

Like magic, Anriq’s words echoed in her mind. Looking at his sweet smile, Iveca lowered her eyes for a moment. Well, it was hardly a normal marriage in the first place. If the King liked her status as an employee of an affiliated organization, she couldn’t help it.

“Is there anything, anything at all, that you wish to be involved with politically, Iveca? If so, please tell me. There may be something that I need to know.”

Iveca bowed her head with a bitter expression. Her father would, of course, want her to attend the meetings and express an opinion. Not her opinion, but Count Esselburn’s. She had no political convictions herself, but she knew that her father would use her as a mouthpiece at the first chance he got.

However, Iveca was quick to work out something her father might provide an advantage to her for. Her position as Queen was likely precarious, to say the least. However, her noble father held sway within the political sphere, and he was sure to want her in her position as long as possible. He would help her, even if it were for his own ends. However, the King’s intention to break her away from any political matters might make this more difficult.

“I’d like to ask for something from you, Iveca. It’s a task I know you will do well at.”

It was a friendly but confident tone. His blue eyes were staring at her as if he could pierce her with them. Her hands shook again and started to sweat. What choice did she really have?

“I’ll cut to the chase, Iveca. I want us to produce an heir as soon as possible.”

Iveca nearly choked on her tea. Of all the things he could have asked, this was not what she had been expecting. He ignored her reaction, however, and continued.

“At the moment, there are only two people in the royal palace with the surname of ‘Amethane’. Myself, of course, and Giselle.”

Iveca bit her lower lip. Giselle was the daughter of Daniel’s brother William, Daniel’s niece, and the only child William had produced before his death.

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“A child… was this all you ever wanted from me?”

Daniel shook his head. “It seems you don’t know why the tragedy of this Queen’s Palace began. A product of your memory being erased.”

Iveca had only heard small amounts of the tale, and any more she wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to hear. It was a gruesome affair; Daniel’s mother, the then Queen, died horribly at the hands of a concubine belonging to Daniel’s father. William had died at the hands of the only princess, and the second prince disappeared after being accused of murder. The Princess herself, after William’s death, had married a lord of a distant foreign province, effectively severing her claim to the throne completely.

“If I were to die at this point,” Daniel continued again, “Giselle would ascend the throne. She is four years old, so obviously an unacceptable course. Giselle’s mother, Roseley, represents the conservative aristocrats. Who knows how badly that would turn out, and how quickly it could destroy any semblance of balance I have managed to achieve in my time as King. However, if I had an heir of my own, the throne passes directly to them.”

Iveca’s head was spinning. She hardly heard the next words from his mouth, merely mumbling what he had already said under her breath in a vain attempt to make it seem true. She felt his blue eyes on here again and looked up into them, a sea of blue that was doing an excellent job of drowning her.