Queendom 11: Original Offense

"Father, I assure you. Every step of the way had been thought-through, and even after, we.. Bella and I, spend considerable time reflecting. It's highly unlikely.."

"It's your dream, Highness. Not a nightmare, but dream. Your own words. A dream that shouldn't be a bother, yet it does, so.. It's telling you something, something that would probably go unnoticed, unless verbalized.. Which is why I suggested the confession, to give it the best chance for.. For a fortunate slip of tongue, without which, I'm afraid it's a puzzle too hard to solve. Even for the Horse-whisperer."

Benedictus didn't want to end the things at a dead-end, so he pivoted.

"If you don't mind sharing, Highness.. How does it end? The dream."

"Oh, that I can tell. It ends the same every time. The tension relax, and I hear a jingle."

"Jingle?! As in coins? Or keys?"

"I can't be sure Father, I vaguely remember the sounds. It was all, a bit too much."

Benedictus let out a deep exhale, realising the details aren't of much help. It didn't connect, as much as it confused further on. Closing his eyes, stepping back and taking on the larger view, he said.

"Perhaps, Highness, I'm doing it wrong. Perhaps it's too big a question, to look for a solution. It would only tire us. Perhaps one must wait for alignment. You are familiar with alignment, right?"

"Vaguely."

"Alignment asks of you one thing, Highness. To ground yourself in the present. Being aware, is different, than awareness of your awareness. Just be, and let it come to you. For queries beyond cognition, it usually does. The subtle awareness of the multitude of patterns, patterns of intend and randomness.. Have the presence of mind rooted in the moment, as all coalesce around.."

"Alignment. I remember Father. I'll keep in mind."

"Highness..?"

A guardsmen standing by the doorway said politely.

"It is time..? In a moment." Elanor nodded and turned back to Benedictus.

"Going somewhere, Highness?"

"A few engagements, Father. Mere appearances, nothing that truly requires my focus, but.. Appearances are part of Queenship as well, so.. Wait, is that the 'Ring-of-Lima'?!"

Her eyes widened, suddenly spotting the white-stoned ivory ring in his little finger.

"Very astute, Highness. Most my deacons have trouble telling apart the insignias."

"What's the special occasions, if I may?"

"Had a ceremonial mersion this morning. Lord Dermowth himself requested my presence. His grand-kid's first-born. Twins.! A boy and a girl at that. Sweet little things."

"Lady Ginnis delivered.?! That's so.. I'm.. I'm so happy for her. We shared a tutor, back in Vankenbraum. That was so.. seems ages ago now. Twins.?! goodness gracious.."

The sudden dip in her mood didn't go unnoticed.

"What's wrong, my child?"

"Nothing Father, it's just.. It's Bard you see.. He had always wanted a baby girl. I'd taunt him, about the Kingly duty to provide an heir. I wanted a boy, of course.. And look at them. Two beautiful kids. A boy and a girl, how fortunate.. I.. I must really go, it's getting late."

Elanor bid farewell, leaving the High Priest speechless and despondent, for the second time.

***

**

*

Power reigns over all men, for it corrupts indiscriminately. And none is more enslaved to absolute power, than the wielder. Words he had heard a million times growing up, interpreted a thousand different ways. And yet to experience it first-hand, changes the whole perspective. Hoyt's mind was a whirlwind, as his marching feet kept up with the rest. For the seventy-eighth time that week, his fingers explored the metallic insignia, before putting the ring back safely into his pocket.

The 'Open-sesame' Ring.. The Cross of Absheil..!

Could they really hand these out to a few low-level staff like us, just to monitor a body-double? Well, not just any double, but the royal one. Still it's too much of a risk, and responsibility. May be I should have simply said no. But how could you..?! This is the mythical ring, after all. To grant it to the likes of Tabitha and me, not to mention that buffoon Jezeb.?! How could the Head of Households be so irresponsible?!

There was that annoying buzz at his fingertips again, like that restless itch on the night before a battle. An itch he knew they all shared, the three of them at least. God only knows what's with that Jokshun. An itch, which worsened so much by the hour, that he feared making a fool out of himself. To run into the front of the Imperial procession perhaps, and scream at the top of his lungs.

WHO ARE YOU..???!!!

It's been a week since they had left the Capitol. The Imperial convoy itself was lite, with men assigned by the Lordships of each region joining in for additional security as they traveled from place to place. The royal engagements were largely performative, with very few private meetings and longer sessions. The Lords and Barons were extremely pleased by the privilege of hosting the True-ruling Monarch, the benefits of which extended even to the guardsmen. Hoyt hadn't tasted such fine food in all his life.

Currently they were at the Bellards Estate, a remote Manor owned by the Earl of Roselend. After the welcome-rituals, the Earl joined the Queen with further discussions, which seemed more like performative pleadings, most to which Her Highness simply kept nodding. The entire Manor was re-decorated to impress her, with multiple royal portraits on almost all walls, even one of King Barthomius hung in the very chamber they were having the discussion in. An attempt at appealing to Her Highness, no doubt.

Now Hoyt may not have been been familiar with this Earl, or Queen Elanor even, but the man who joined in shortly was no stranger to him. Especially his gruffy, commanding voice.

"Her Highness Elanor of Wolkenshire. Let me bow to your beauty, and introduce myself.. Lord of Clauscher, close friend to the Earl, and the Commander to the army of Aestrikus. General Radislov.!"

Radislov of the North! It is him.. Hoyt remembered that voice. He had witnessed the General's might first-hand, in his first and only battle in the wild, the one that taught him for good, that he wasn't cut for such grind.

"Of course, the Great Radislov of the North! I've heard plenty, about your impressive tactics, and unparalleled valour, in crushing the orcan swines. It's good to finally put a face to the legendary name."

Watching from the doorway, Hoyt noticed a sudden smirky glint in the General's eyes.

"Of course, Highness! It is my first time meeting a Ruling Queen as well.. I'll be returning to battlefront soon, right after meeting His Highness, the King of Aestrikus. Some fortunate updates would ease his worries, I hear the recovery had been slow and painful for the King. I must also gather reinforcements, as many men as possible, for the time to strike would be ripe soon. A word from Her Highness would be of utmost value."

As the conversation meandered, Hoyt's fingers returned to the ring again. The Cross of Absheil sure wasn't lacking in lure. The only thing worse than the corruption of power, he was beginning to realise, was being denied the chance to exercise it. That itch to act, corroding you from within. He had witnessed growing up, similar itches derailing the lives of better men. Elite soldiers who craved for fight in peace-times, so much that they got drunk and tore into each other in taverns.

Hoyt was just given the powers no civilian before had held, yet not an opportunity to actualize it. The same went for Jezeb and Jokshun. The latter seemed less keen on testing the double, and more baffled by the sheer weight of the new role. But Jezeb shared the same itchy-finger as Hoyt. And lacking self-control, he walked up to the Queen once and actually asked.. No, he didn't ask it. He couldn't. The death-stare of the True-ruling Monarch made him stop in his tracks, barely getting a word out, before his temple was dripping with sweat.

And what was it the Queen said, with a disarming smile.

"I'm sure you were just eager to serve the throne. We can arrange for that."

The poor guy got assigned double duty for the entire week, almost as if the Queen had reasons to see him suffer. As much as he wanted to discipline this Demura girl, remembering her 'activities' at Cloveshire, Hoyt still wasn't ready to risk double-duty. For a country-boy, used to much relaxed settings, he was already having trouble keeping up with the daily schedule. Yet, it doesn't matter whether he hailed from the outskirts, or the underbellies. Not to the powers bestowed, for it was indiscriminate in its effect.

The fact that, out the the four, Tabitha actually had a chance to exercise her authority, that very night, only enraged the rest. Not just that, she couldn't shut up about it to the rest four, every time they met. It got so disturbingly descriptive, that Jokshun walked out half-way through. Jezeb was foaming at his mouth, but the details only further infuriated Hoyt. If even half of it is true, this Demura appears to be in dire need of disciplining. I understand the purpose of her mission, but that doesn't mean she has the right to be so treasonously indulgent. Treasonous because, regardless the reason, she's sullying the Imperial likeness. And Hoyt couldn't wait for a chance, to straighten the wicked wench.

But out of the four, he was at a massive disadvantage, for he had no real reference on the original Queen, to tell apart from the decoy. And from what he heard, this Demura girl is pretty impressive with her imitation, going so far as to mimic the voice modulations pretty accurately. Even right now, he couldn't tell if the woman walking up the stairs ten feet in front, was the decoy Queen, or the True-ruling Monarch herself. There was certainly a magnificence to her gait, and her gaze alone was quite commanding. But Hoyt couldn't be sure. Something in him itched, to take a chance, to whisper to the winds at least. Just to see, if he has the courage to utter so, to the royal likeness.

Who.. are..

He couldn't finish, for he found himself parched. It was a big ask, after all. Soon the Earl excused himself, leaving the Queen with the esteemed General. The latter seemed offly pleased with his own voice.

"Highness, I had fought alongside the late King. In the forest.. We were brothers in arms. Well, he was more of a young nephew to me, and.. Even before the war, we had gone hunting many a times. He was very, very good with a bow."

The Queen simply nodded, as Radislov continued.

"In fact, it pains me just remembering.. I was there on the camps, the day he.. when his convoy went missing. I had just joined with a new troop, and we were supposed to leave together, but.."

The Queen lightly nodded.

"I understand, General. We don't have to dwell on it. It doesn't matter now."

Hoyt found it odd, the certain coldness in her voice. Or was it a lack of conviction? Something felt off. The General continued.

"It's not just dwelling, Highness, it's.. It is what is owed. Like I said, we were brothers in arms, and we go way back, with hunts and games and gambles.. There is something you must know, Highness. Something that is owed. A debt between men, a rite of passage."

The Queen didn't look that comfortable, perhaps she was yet to come to terms with the ill-fate.

"I understand General. Please continue.."

"Highness, would you mind, if we speak in private?"

Easing back into the chair, the Queen said.

"Guards! Two of you guard the door. The rest may go rest and refresh."

As Hoyt climbed down the stairs, he was feeling increasingly listless. He spotted Jezeb standing by the other corner, but chose to ignore, walking towards the guard's station instead. After having his fill of water and snacks, he found himself staring at a mediocre copy of the royal family portrait. This one depicted the Old King, probably in his final year, and his Queen, a rare beauty who had aged gracefully, sitting with absolute solemnity. Standing in the background were the newly weds, Prince Barthomius, and an innocent looking Princess of Vankenbraum. Her eyes lacked the cynical intensity he had grown to recognize recently. But the way she looked out from the frame, Hoyt felt a little nervous, even if it was just a painting. Making sure no one is close enough to notice, he steeled himself, locked eyes with the Princess and said in a deep, trembling voice.

"Who. Are. You?"

He thought he said, but the voice never came. All Hoyt managed was to strain his Adam's apple further. The aura of a Queen is too much for a simple sentry-man. May be I'm not up to the task. May be it's time I returned the ring, to Lady Agrafena. Better that than fall prey to impulsivity.

"Hoyt!"

Quite startled by the sudden call, he looked around.

Jezeb.

"Hey, Hoyt. Did you see the way she was walking? Like she wasn't used to the heels.."

"This again, Jez? That's not a decoy, that's the Queen up there."

"No mate, I'm sure this time. It's the slight sway in her walk, you know. Her Highness is an ace swordsmaid, her sways are much measured. I'm sure this time."

"Like by the bridge,last month? Or the parade, the week after? Oh wait, it's like that time when you waltzed up to her, mumbled like an imbecile, and got a to a months worth of work in a week. Is that it?"

"Hey, watch your tone, boyo..! Respect the seniority."

"Oh shut it, Jezeb! We both got the Cross, and there are no ranks in handlers."

"Alright, alright. But look me in the eye, and tell. You were in the same chamber as her all this while. Didn't anything appear odd?"

Hoyt shook his head, but his expression gave it away.

"Oh hell! You think that too.. You saw something didn't you? What is it? What's it?"

"It's.. Oh, shut up Jezeb. Go find yourself, if you are itching so bad. Maybe another week of double duty is in order."

"Oh come on, don't be a chicken!"

"I'm not doing it, Jezeb! Although.. Can you get me a quill?"

"A quill.?! What for?" Jezeb looked baffled.

Hoyt smirked with condescension.

"I was planning for the longest, to be a Cleric someday, Jezeb. I had even completed the initial trainings, before things got so dire back home, that I had to enlist. The point is, I can read. And write. And I'm not risking double duty."

Jezdeb grinned.

"I'll go fetch the quill."

**

*

As he patiently waited for the door to open, Hoyt found himself losing all courage. The plan was sound, and surely Jezeb's encouragement helped, but standing outside the chamber, his mind kept telling, you shouldn't have come up. He was surprised to find that the guards were standing further down the hallway, and not by the door. Hoyt steeled himself, as the door handle turned.

It wasn't the Queen, but his old Commander that opened the door, his large built blocking the view. There was a certain shine to him, a weird mix of exhilaration and frustration in his eyes.

"How dare you disobey a direct Imperial order, soldier?"

"Apologies General, there was an urgent message for Her Highness."

"A message? Oh, you the Royal Messenger?"

Hoyt forced a painful smile and nodded yes, as he held up the message-tray. As much as his heart kept drumming, a part of him beamed with pride. The part that was aching to exercise this newfound power. He had learned from Jezeb's mistake, and his plan was effective, at least in shielding against any backlash. The message in the tray was a simple phrase, 'Who are you?' The rules dictate that, upon reading the decoy must respond in affirmative, without blowing her cover. So she must, at the very least, send back the note in confirmation. All Hoyt had to do was wait outside.

In case it was the actual Queen, Hoyt could simply say that he was just delivering the message, perhaps blame it on the Manor staff. You don't kill the messenger, after all. General Radislov picked up the folded parchment with his left hand, while his right hand produced a sealed-scroll from his coat-pocket, and looked back at the guardsman.

"That's good, I was about to call you up myself, once we concluded the.. meeting. Hehe.. Here, take this to the one in charge at Fort Wilburr, tell General Radislov wants it done swift, and take their reply-scroll back to the Office of Households, back in the Capitol."

Hoyt's eyes nearly popped out.

"Fort Willburr..?! As in by the Templeton? That's a five day ride, sir."

"Not if you ride through the night. Make it in three days, soldier. Households must receive a decision in five, so ride like your life is on the line. That will be all."

As the doors closed, Hoyt just stood there frozen, his fist clutching on to the sealed-scroll. Jezeb, you bastard! Why did I ever listen to you.?! I had an easy guard duty, with the best food and stay, but now, I must suffer my way to Templeton, and back, in five days.

Oh God! Why did I ever listen to that buffoon?!

On the other side of the wall, General Radislov walked back to the Queen, his right palm slowly sliding across the table. He reassured.

"That's done, Highness. Wilburr will revise the plans, and your Households will have it in.. Well, I'd give that idiot a week. Now, where were we? Yes, Charrots."

"It's a gambling game, Highness. Very popular amongst the troops. One of the few socializing time-passes that cuts across ranks. Some of it's rules, may seem vulgar at first. But everyone involved are in agreement, so.. No harm, no foul. The wager varies, as the game tightens. And the last time we played, me and the late King, the game kept going on for so long, that the next wager had to be so outrageous, as to scare the other into folding. So I raised the stakes, with my title, and to match the wager, your King did the unthinkable. Well, unthinkable for his standards, but if it were a common guardsmen, no one would think twice of it. Amidst the ones of loose morals such wagers are ridiculously common, I hear.. The game has a way of diluting class inhibitions, but in effect, he wagered with his marital ring."

Circling the Queen with his hand still sliding along the contours, Radislov observed. Her eyes remained frozen on the large portrait of Barthomius on the wall right in front. Him looking back from the frame, almost judgingly, made the General smirk.

"Now, in the spirit of the game, all wagers are time-bound, by an hour most. Meaning, the winner gets to have all the privileges of what's been wagered, for an entire hour, at the time of his choosing. Now, don't make that face, Highness. These swapping dynamics shouldn't be so strange to us blue-bloods. Ask your sister. She was such a spirited little minx. I bet she still is.. Hehe.."

"And in that game, I had the winning hand, the perfect pair, but.. But, that damn message came in, at the precise moment, and Bard's convoy left right away, postponing the game. So one could argue, that he hadn't lost yet, technically. But, I'm not known for letting go of sure-wins, Highness, and.. I intend to take what's mine. So I suppose, the Great Chaste of Wolkenshire, that my hour starts now."

His sliding palm came to a halt right above the small of her back. Radislov's eyes roamed over his quick handiwork once more. The woman before was laying across the table. Her both feet still rested on the floor, her body bending at the hips, and it pleased him that the short table had the perfect length to accommodate just her torso. There were no cuffs or gags, but her both hands stayed clasped behind, her tongue-tied in a mixture of fear and anticipation, her gaze still fixed upon the portrait as instructed.

What an obedient little pet?! It's like someone had trained her well.