Chapter 961

Chapter 961: Revenge

“Master is quite generous.”

“éclair, that’s quite the brazen comment.”

“Please,” he smiled, “-I serve the best, tis understandable.”

“All the doom and gloom,” sipped the king, “-I wish it’d fade.”

“Honestly speaking, the room seems uninterested in the life Eia lived. I’ve already said a few words to the press, no way the media’s going to interfere.”

“Queen Eia’s passing,” read a header, “-many of our readers, those who closely followed the quest of repentance would know, lady Eia and her husband, lord Nicola – criminals of the highest degree, were allowed treatment and safety by the king. The one oppressed and wrong for so many years, deprived of love or the ability to give his humongous heart. On an undisclosed date, lady Eia passed, and Kreston’s duke, the pope, presided over the rites there and back, all for the soul’s safe passage. Thus, in the later hours of September the 7th, her body was laid to rest at the royal family’s crypt. The ceremony was attended by little remaining of her family, a few friends, and the lot,” thus wrote a Rosespian Gazette, similar to the countless others. The knowledge known of the palace’s in and out was great, so they thought, éclair’s uncaring expression told another.

Evening slipped into the night; guests excused themselves. Retainers, including a scrupulously gazing Midne, contempt the idea of cleaning. Nobles or not, ‘-they shit the same as a dog,’ such was the head maid’s saying, ‘-mongrels, all of them.’ Many held smiles, others’ agony, and some were sentenced to the side-glances of their partners.

.....

Area changes and a smaller, cozier room spreads itself. Couches were arranged around a small table under which laid an expensive carpet. Tall with a chandelier nailed to the middle of the dome-like ceiling. It was no normal discussion nor was the room any better – decoration spoke of war and tragedy, the painting displayed guts and grit – cruelty if one summed the sight.

Two ladies, led by retainers, advanced toward the seats and waited. The outfits were lavish in their own way, both held an air of superiority. One glance sufficed to figure a guess to their age – both were over the fifty mark as told by dyed hair. Wrinkled formed as if proud battle scars of years of frowns and snickering. Locks clicked, opening to Igna in the company of a lass dressed in a simple white gown. On arriving at the seats, he pointed, and said no other words – the lass obeyed with her head downward

“Katherine?” exploded one of the guests, “-HOW DARE YOU!”

“...” Igna wrapped and sat, asking for one retainer to bring drinks.

“Majesty, do explain...” gritted lady Goldberg.

“Lady Goldberg,” he took time before answering; looking almost pleased with her anger. Beside the duchess sat another, Nicola Vonhem Hart’s mother, Duchess Dahnia Hart, current head of the family, “-lady Dahnia.” Two sides of one coin, an explosive personality paired with the brooding, silent type, “-you must understand, today’s no social visit. Queen Eia was sent off properly – I do say her soul’s rested sufficiently.”

“Rested?”

“Lady Dahnia’s one for details,” he nodded, the lock clicked to a sea of armed guards, “-what about the drinks?” he added randomly to the detriment of Lady Goldberg’s expression, ‘-how did he know?’ cried the crinkled eyebrows.

“My, we needn’t speak telepathically,” he added shrewdly and lifted the lass’s solemn visage. Pure innocence and age didn’t befit her beauty, golden locks, and blueish-green circles, without much affection, the natural gift her facial structure brought sufficed to make many, men or women, salivate. “Is her serene expression and composed demeanor not the best?” added Igna, “-lady Goldberg, I must sadly relay to what’s happened,” before the hour was over – he’d recounted in gruesome detail the lady’s experiences, torture, and abuse – the way prisoners of war are treated, “-the pain is never-ending, an army of men with bloodied hands hangs on the immoral scale. Regardless of complexion, nationality or what you’d have it; given the order,” the gaze amplified, “-people will slaughter one another. And here we have an example of what sexual deprivation has,” the image was painted clearly, “-a war, you both,” he blinked, “-supported financially.”

“And?”

“Well, picking a side is one’s right,” he leaned, “-thus my point is proven,” guards swarmed their seats, “-welcome to hell.”

“Hell?” narrowed lady Goldberg, “-my death shan’t come easily. These threats aren’t going to scare me, majesty. I’m sad about what happened to my daughter, alas, tis the price to pay for going into war. I do hope his majesty finds it in his heart to ”

“To save her heart?” he laughed and leaned, laying elbows on his knee, “-or to save her title?”

“Either...”

“Wrong,” he smiled, “-lady Goldberg, on this day forward – Katherine Goldberg will become my fiancé.”

“Fiance?” she echoed.

“Yes,” he narrowed in resolution, “-duchess Hart; the sins shared by thy son and family name ought to bring memories, yes?”

“I understand,” her hands laid atop her knees, “-we’re defeated.”

“WHAT?”

“Lady Goldberg,” she side-glanced, “-might I ask for the drama to stop?”

“What are you, Dahnia...”

“Can you not see?” she looked at Katherine, “-taking the heir of thy dynasty as the bride will inevitably bring the noble houses under one rule. Aside from the Goldberg, there’s the Hart dynasty. There’s no greater way of ending a revolt than to cut off its head. First Eia, second my son, and now, us, majesty, might I ask for the privilege of a detailed explanation?”

“Detailed explanation?” a silver tray arrived – tea was served, “-do you mind if the explanation isn’t chronologically stable, why am I asking,” he sipped, “-let’s start with the rebellion. Military-wise, the battle continues within Dorchester, General Minerva’s flexing her prowess by conquest. Politically, there’s unrest. Nobility’s an illness – yet, many are drawn, tis part of our culture and heritage, much a reason why feudalism continues yet. Hidros is fragmented – easy for invasion from outside parties, we’re in the worse possible state a kingdom can be. My worry was proved at the start of the battle to reclaim Dorchester, an ally turned traitor unleashed floodgates, wiping what little hope of peace we held. Goldberg and Hart dynasty is well-known across the land, from kids to the elderly, many are taught the history such household name played. It brings us to why Dorchester’s rebellion was possible – albeit, in smaller numbers, noble families are a key part of our culture – tis one of the main reason feudalisms works great. Can’t have a king without peasants and nobles, what sort of image would such an inordinate kingdom project? Head of the rebellious faction, upon her death and defeat, scattered affluent families into the wild. No influence means no harm – a part of me hates the idea of nobles of my kingdom turning allegiance towards an enemy state. There comes Katherine Goldberg, heir to the Goldberg dynasty – a dame dressed in an armor of beauty and misery. She belongs to me in every sense of the word, I own her, I say at the risk of sounding misogynistic. Unity of our factions will speak loudly, welcoming nobles in hiding back into Rosespire. They’ll swear fealty to her, uniting nobles and royalists. There’s nothing much to it,” he said, “-for a stronger image, we must become one.”

“What about us?”

“That is the question at hand,” narrowed Igna, “-traitors ought to be sentenced to death. However, on accounts of a long-standing relationship with both my uncle and the previous monarch, I’m not against the idea of allowing thee a retirement confined to a Phantom-controlled manor or hotel. Two widows without siblings – consider it mercy for the arduous fight. Lady Goldberg, your cynical gaze deceive you,” he added, “-in exchange for freedom and retirement, I’d ask but one thing – why.”

“Revenge,” seethed lady Goldberg, “-to pay back my debt. Gallienne and her friend, another trouble monarch, the so-called hero king Staxius, made my life hell. I was supposed to lead, live an exemplary life – instead,” haunting memories returned, “-I was humiliated at his hand and treated badly by hers. They ruined my life, I wasn’t going to stand by whilst Gallienne died a painless death. Her ghost ought to have witnessed how I ruined her pride – she’s no saint, and we know details of her sexual drive. How could one so tainted be loved, I don’t get it... it pains me, it angers me,” she exhaled, “-the day you took the throne, I vowed to make Hidros a miserable existence.”

“Jonia Hart,” narrowed lady Hart, “-my daughter, because of the Haggard’s, her life was ruined. She’s naught but a shell, resenting why she wasn’t born a Haggard. Her journey through the musical academy was painful. As mother, I saw my child turn from loving music to absolute insanity. I couldn’t blame the girl for being talented – therefore, I remained silent until my son, my foolish son, decided to act and woo princess Eia. He took her virtue a year before she turned mature – we kept silent to avoid queen Gallienne’s fury. Sadly, as the Haggard would prove time and time again, they don’t care; the truth was brought to life. My husband suffered a faith worse than death. Lady Goldberg approached me after the coronation, we decided enough was enough, I didn’t want my son to suffer his father’s fate. If they can’t be happy here, why not be happy somewhere else.”

“A story of vengeance,” he exhaled, “-the greatest schemes are often spawned from the simplest of reasond. Well, lady Goldberg and lady Hart, with respect to the forthcoming and unbiased story-telling; you’ll be free with limitations. Go enjoy Hidros for what it has become. We need not end thy tale so shortly.”

“I don’t know,” said lady Goldberg, “-are you na?ve or simply daft?”

“I second her,” nodded lady Hart, “-why allow an enemy to leave without conclusion?”

“Oh,” he stood and smiled, “-a simple reason. Lady Goldberg and lady Hart, thou art but side-characters in a tale spanning time and space. Doesn’t matter if you live or die,” he motioned a guard, “-pick, life or death, your choice, ladies,” he tapped Katherine’s shoulder, she stood without looking at her mother and followed.

The duo mutually agreed, “-you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah,” breathed a woeful sigh, “-He left us with no choice.”

“I guess,” they walked towards an empty wall and faced away, dropping onto their knees and lowering their heads. Midne watched, “-raise your weapons,” she ordered, “-in honor of the Goldberg and Hart dynasty, thy memories shall go on, ladies,” she dropped her arms and a tempest of bullet fire riddled the castle.

The silent Katherine reached for Igna’s jacket, “-is mother dead?” she asked softly.

“First time I’ve heard you speak,” he continued, “-come along,” the royal office opened to a mess of files and unchecked reports, “-have a seat,” he offered and reached behind the faraway desk. “-short answer, no, long answer, yeah.”

“...”

“Don’t get it?” he narrowed; “-I guess not. It’s simple, they’re dead-on paper and as heads of the respective families.”

Bodies dropped, “-and you’re dead,” said Midne, “-transport’s ready for safe travels,” the ladies knelt confusedly. Head-maid brazenly forced a pie down their throat, ‘-my body feels light,’ whispered one.

“I know,” returned the other, “-my hands and legs, my skin, what is this?”

“The pie of life,” said Midne, “-rejuvenation,” newer identification laid at their feet.

“Yanie,” narrowed the youthful blond-haired lady Goldberg – her beauty was true, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Lady Hart, named Soph, carried another type of beauty, one of dark-colored hair and extreme curves, “-my god, lady Hart, you were bombshell back in the day.”

“My,” her bands and long dark hair gave a sense of virtuous innocence,”-this is embarrassing...”

“Oh please,” she stretched, “-two hotties.”

“Ahem,” narrowed Midne, “-if Yanie and Soph are ready?”

“Yes, we are,” they stood, dressed in a more modern outfit.

“Restriction imposed by his majesty is the following; no traveling beyond Hidros, new lives start as freshmen at a university, lastly, abdication from claims of noble blood.”