Trying to keep from thinking about how she woke up this morning, Tina hissed as the bandages pull at the wounds on her back. Tristan was once again helping her with her back. She would try to do it herself, but the last time she did, she passed out from the pain. Needless to say, she had learned her lesson. She winced again, trying to keep quite as each layer was unwrapped, revealing the damaged skin to the fresh air. The fresh air felt nice over the heated skin as her mind drifted back to the fact she had woken up next to Tristan.
He was the one who broke the silence, “How come you didn’t go to the Lady Love’s Brothel and Inn, last night?”
She snorted, “First, the title said enough. I am not a pleasure Lady so I avoid going to any Brothels.” She would have sent him a glare over her bare shoulder, but she didn’t want to move her back many then necessary. “Second,” she started, “I got lost.” She tried to keep the pout out of her voice as she stared at the far wall, holding a blanket up against her chest.
This time, Tristan snorted before he commented, “Yes, it is an easy thing to do in this city.” His arms reached around her torso as he continued to unwrapped the dirty bandages. “It took me a long while to figure out a way around the city and I had to explore the entire thing.”
“There’s more?” Tina asked, surprise coloring her voice.
“Yeah,” he replied, “There is more to the city to the West, East, and North.” She felt his finger nail scraping gently at a stuck wrap before he managed to pull it off her skin without causing her more pain. “The city just grew around the castle, according to the history books I have read and the historian have told us, expanding over the years.”
Tina nodded. She knew how history worked. She had wanted to be a historian a few years ago. She did find history interesting, but when she went to career counseling, she didn’t know if she wanted to be a historian when she saw all the work she would have to do in college. While she was a hard worker, she wanted to see results as they happened, not three or four years down the line. She didn’t have the patience for that unlike her ex. She took a breath and pushed those thoughts away, shoving them deep, deep in the back of her mind. She couldn’t afford to think about him or the what-ifs.
“Tell me more about Camelot,” She suggested, changing the subject a bit. “I have only heard stories about it. I won’t mind learning from someone who has lived here for majority of his life.”
“It’s home,” Tristan said, simply. She waited for him to continued, but when he didn’t, she frowned.
“What’s your favorite drinking spot?” She questioned.
He paused, before he answered, “The White Rose.”
“How come?” She prodded, “I’m sure there is a reason why you like drinking at the White Rose.”
“There was another tavern similar to the White Rose back in my home land,” Tristan commented, “And, no, I wasn’t born in Camelot. I was raised in a small town in the far south of the Kingdom, near the border. The owner of the tavern had a daughter who I developed a crush on, but she didn’t see me. However, about 20 years ago, we didn’t have a king for 6 to 7 months and our enemies marched toward the castle. She was one of the people I cared for killed when my small town was attacked. I was only 15 at the time. I had been away from the town, hunting for my family’s dinner when the attack happened.”
Tina allowed that to sink in before she spoke, “I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories.” She turned her head to glance over her shoulder at the knight.
“It happened a long time ago,” Tristan’s eyes met hers. Pain lingered there and loneliness. She wondered what else happened to the knight helping her that he still carried on his shoulders.
“Still, I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said, softly. He didn’t say anything as he went back to work, unwrapping the long strips of linen that he had helped around her torso.
Once he was done, he commanded, “Lie down. I need to clean these wounds.” He stepped away from the bed and went to a separate chamber where she heard running water. She did as she was told to do, cocking an eyebrow. The kingdom had running water? That was new. She was half expected it to be hand drawn from a well. She had popped in the separate chamber earlier, shortly after she woke up and saw it held a wooden bench with a hole. She had peered down it, but she couldn’t see the bottom and didn’t smell anything from the hole. She had even double checked with Tristan about it and was informed it was the toilet.
It was strange, seeing the outhouse style toilet. However, she didn’t check anything else out after she had relieved herself in the chamber. She sighed as she directed her gaze to the rug covered stone floor, waiting.
It wasn’t long before he returned with a hot of steaming water. She glanced up at him though. She opened her mouth to say something, but she hesitated. Her eyes dropped down to the rug covered floor. Her back protested as she stretched out on his bed. She had woken up there a couple hours ago, laying next to Tristan. She didn’t know how to got there. She was pretty sure she had passed out on the long couch the night before, but she was so tired she didn’t know she made to the couch in the first.
In the morning light, the room belonging to Tristan like it was barely lived in. As far as Tina could tell, there was very little things in the room that screamed Tristan. It could be the fact he didn’t collect much or didn’t want to have a mess room. It was almost bare…no, bare wasn’t the right word - lifeless.
There was no life in the room.
She wondered why as the bed shifted and the bowl of steaming water appeared on a stand not to far from Tina’s head. She turned her head to look at Tristan. One of her hands came up and pulled her hair out of the way. She winced, slightly as a couple strands of her red hair sliced across the wounds. She decided to look on the bright side of things. At least, her hair didn’t feel like it was a knife slicing into the tender meat of her back when it brushed against her unprotected back.
Tina watched a dry rag push into the water before it changed to a darker color and Tristan rung it out before he placed it on her back. She hissed as heat seeped into her back from the hot rag. Hot droplets ran down her back, sliding down the side of her ribcage. It felt good until Tristan moved the rag along one of the sliced wounds. Her hands curled into the fists, clutching on to the bed spread. Her teeth bared in a pain expression. Her legs tightened, straightening out over the bed. She tried to keep her back relax, but she didn’t know if she was able to or not.
Tristan didn’t say a word as he brushed the rag over a sensitive spot. Tina’s eyes shut when he did that. She didn’t say another word.
Tristan paused when he felt Tina go leap underneath his hand. He glanced at her face. He sighed. He felt sorry for her. He turned his eyes onto her back. He couldn’t believe she had managed to survive a lashing those Fawns had given her. A couple of the long lashes were deep, but he didn’t see bone. That was a good thing.
He let out a sigh. He knew the lashes he received weren’t as deep as Tina’s. He dipped the cloth back into the hot water and twisted the cloth when a knock rang out in his chambers. He set the cloth next to the bowl and slowly stood up. He walked over to the door and opened it. Standing on the other side was Lancelot and Gawain. Both looked at him with a worry expression.
“May we come in?” Lancelot asked.
Tristan glanced over his shoulder to Tina on the bed with her back exposed. He turned his attention back onto Lancelot and saw the look in his eye. The other knight wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. The Violent Knight sighed as he nodded his head, “Yeah, I need to cover up the Lady.”
That cause both knights raise their eyebrows in response, but they waited until Tristan walked over to the bed and gently position the blankets around Tina, trying to converse her modesty while allowing air to reach her wounds. He waved the two knights in.
Lancelot walked in first, glancing toward the bed and paled. Gawain blinked in surprise and turned to look at the bed. Tristan watched as the color drained from the other knight’s face.
“What happened?” Gawain asked.
Tristan sighed, “Let’s take this to the common room.” He glanced at Tina. He heard a soft snore as Tina slept. “I don’t want to wake her. She needs all the rest she can get.”
“Sure,” Gawain nodded.
“Yes, please, forgive me,” Lancelot said, quickly. The trio left Tristan’s quarters, silently. They didn’t speak until they reached the common room. Tristan filled in Lancelot and Gawain on what had happened, how he met Tina, and the events since they had managed to escape from the Fawn Village as they settled into the comfortable chairs by the fire.
Gawain let out a low whistle, lending forward with his elbows on his knees as he listened to the story and lend back into the chair. “Man,” he started, his arms relaxes upon the arms of the chair, “That is one hell of a woman.”
Lancelot sipped on a mug of mead and nodded, “Yes, it sounds like she is very unique.” He sat crossed legged in his chair and set the mug on his knee.
Tristan snorted into his mug of mead at the statement. Tina was, like Lancelot said, very unique.
“What are you planning on doing, now,” Lancelot asked after a moment. His eyes were quizzical.
“I don’t know,” Tristan admitted. He didn’t inform them that there was a chance of Tina being the missing mysterious daughter of Lord Bardock, and sister of the Explosive General Genesis. “She received a letter, saying she has family in Camelot, but I don’t know if she is willingly to seek them out, just yet.”
Gawain blinked in surprise and glanced at Lancelot before he asked, “She has family here? Why don’t she seek them out?”
“She was kidnapped from her home by a team of Ninja,” Tristan explained, “I think she was half blackmailed, half kidnapped, but was willingly if it was on her own terms, as she put it.” He paused for a second, thinking about the second question. “Personally, I think she will seek out her family. She seems to be the type it has to be on her own terms and not someone else’s.”
“Was she aware she has family in Camelot?” Lancelot questioned.
Tristan shook his head no, causing his shaggy brown hair to shake about his head, slightly, “No. She might be using the fact we are having a major Royal Event as cover to seek out her brother to test the waters before she reaches out to the rest of the Family.”
“Do you know who she is related to,” Gawain’s eyes pinned Tristan to his seat. Tristan took a long sip of his mead as he thought about how to answer that. He could come and out tell them, but one of them would immediately run to inform Genesis about Tina’s presence before she was ready to seek him out. However, an idea sparked in his mind.
“So do you,” Tristan admitted, “Her older brother is a part of the Military while her Father is a Lord and a Knight and her Mother, of course, is a Lady of the Court and A Royal Shadow.”
Lancelot’s jaw dropped as his eyes widened. Tristan doubted the other knight truly knew Tina’s connection, but the fact Tristan had pointed Tina had a Knight for a father and a Brother apart of the military was a common theme for many heiress of the Court. However, having a mother as a royal shadow was a different story. The Royal Shadows were spies and assassins, acting on the behalf of the needs of the Ruling Family, and most of the times were a member of the Court, often listening to other members of the Court for any rumors of rebellions and other rebellious acts.
“That’s one hell of a combination,” Gawain breathed, “I can see why she would be testing the waters of a possible family connection if she plans to take her mother’s position of being a Royal Shadow with the New Chosen King, whoever that shall be.”
Morgana strolled down the spiral stair case of the Queen’s Tower, thinking about what she had to do today. She still had to go down to the crypt and expand the cave where Melissa, Arthur’s birth mother and Uther’s former wife, laid. Uther had wanted to be place beside her when he passed away. She needed to do that before the Funeral Ceremony.
A soft breeze drifted up the stairs as she entered the stair case leading down to the second floor, causing a few strands of her unbound black hair to fly into her face, brushing over her skin as goosebumps rose over the exposed areas of her upper chest and down her exposed forearms, her dark wine colored dress to drift around her legs, and Belladonna’s voice reached her ears. She paused before she reached the curve of the stairwell, revealing her presence to the ones standing in the hallway.
“I can’t believe that brat. She is already court this early in the morning! Without me? That is outrageous! I can’t wait until Arthur can pull out the Holy Sword. A spell to choose the next King! I still think that is a plot against the rightful rulers of Camelot, started by those annoying Magi. They should have been put to death, years ago.”
The Black Mage sighed, softly. It was not even mid-morning and Belladonna was already started to complain about the High Queen Kalliope’s actions. The black haired beauty didn’t know what the former high queen had against Kalliope.
“Perhaps, they should have,” Lord James Black replied. His voice was steady and held a note of diplomacy, “However, Aunt Bella, there is nothing for you to do, now.” James paused, “I thought Arthur already tried to pull out the Holy Sword.”
“He has tried,” Belladonna replied, “I believe he will be able to do it.”
“Mom,” Holly’s voice rang out, “If he already did it and he wasn’t able to pull the Holy Sword out, he won’t be King.”
“Uther did it,” Belladonna stated.
Morgana remembered that problem. Uther, during the time of the Kingless Kingdom, had tried to pull out the Holy Sword multiply times. He had claimed if a Drake could prove that he would pull the Holy Sword out of the ceremonial stone, the conflict would end. However, it wasn’t Uther who ended the Kingless Kingdom. It was Edward, Uther’s cousin. He tried to follow in his father’s footsteps and tried to join the Kingdom of Camelot with the Kingdom of Frank. He didn’t live long afterwards. It was another time of chaos as the Sword switched hand to hand until Uther pulled out of the Holy Sword and went to work, sending things straight with the Kingdom. When the Frank Kingdom argued that the previous King was murdered, Uther claimed the death of his family member was unfortunate and all of the agreements during that time were nulled. It led to the Frank swearing revenge on the Camelot Kingdom.
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“He did,” Holly agreed, “But how many others did before he did? How many died during the Kingless Kingdom, Mom? I don’t want to experience that again. If Arthur couldn’t pull the Holy Sword out of the Ceremonial Stone, there is a good chance he won’t be able to. It means there is a man better suited to rule over Camelot.”
“We, House of Drake, are the rightful Rulers of Camelot,” Belladonna argued. Morgana didn’t need to look around the bend to know Belladonna was standing tall, proud as a peacock. She shook her head, sending the black locks to wave down her back. “James, you should pull the Holy Sword out of the Stone.”
“No, we are not the rightful ruling House,” Holly shot back, “The rightful Ruler of Camelot, by blood, is the Lady Morgana of House Pendragon. She is, after all, the last blood relative to King Arthur of House Pendragon, still alive.”
“She only thinks she is,” Belladonna sneered, “There is no way she has lived that long.” A paused, “Unless of course, she is the Death Mage Rowena.”
Morgana sighed, deeply as Holly snorted loudly and James said, “Really, Aunt Bella? That again?”
This was not the first time Morgana had been accused to be the Death Mage Rowena. That..that..that fowl creature. The Black she-mage shivered. She still hated to be compared to that cursed witch.
“Anyway,” Holly changed the subject, “Elsa has arrived.”
“Good,” Belladonna announced, “That rebellious daughter of mine will be hearing it from me. She should have been here last night for the Mourning Dinner. If I did that with my father, I would be skinned alive and disowned.” Belladonna’s voice drifted away into silence. The sound of footsteps rang out on the stone steps, slowly fading away.
Morgana waited until she was sure that the members of the Drake House was gone before she stepped down when Holly spoke up, “I hate it when she does that.”
“Yeah,” James agreed, “I have tried to make sure the women weren’t treated that way at the Estate. I have been making changes, but most of the Black Lords have been fighting me on every turn.” He let out a deep sigh. It was the type of sigh where Morgana could image James’ shoulder slumped as he directed his gaze to the floor and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“I know you are trying, James,” Holly stated, “But those Lords are old farts. They won’t be changing anytime soon. The changes you are making are helping us Black Women, but until those old farts die and their heirs take over, I think that is the only way the changes will stick.”
“I know,” James commented in a knowing tone that Morgana was familiar with. She narrowed her eyes. “I know, Holly. That’s why I am plotting something.”
Morgana was tempted to peer around the bend and look at the Black Lord with raised eyebrows. That tone. It promised a lot of dangerous things. The kind of dangerous things that could ended up with James’ death if he takes the wrong step.
“I am fully aware,” Holly’s tone held a smirking note, “You need to be more careful, Lord James. I have been directing suspicious else where, but there are few people I haven’t been able to fool.” The silence that followed her statement said words that neither were able to say.
Morgana smirked. It appeared the latest game had already started with Lord James Black. Things were starting to get interesting, again. It was about time, really. It had been too quite over the last five to six years since Kalliope became High Queen.
“Come on, cousin,” Holly started, “I need to save my sister from mom before Mom does try to disown Elsa from the family.”
“Aunt Bella could try,” James argued, “As the Patriarch Head of the Black House, Aunt Bella can’t do that without my say.”
Morgana peeked around the bend, watching Holly and James walk down the hall, heading to the stair case for the first floor. She waited until they disappeared down the spiral staircase and she counted until she reached 10 before she finished walking down the stairs, crossed the floor and went to the spiral staircase. It wasn’t long afterwards, she stepped out in the morning sun.
Arthur frowned as he stared at his room leading out of his new quarters in the Knights’ Tower. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to face the rest of the world. Last night was rough. He remembered why he didn’t like his family getting together anymore. Or it could have been the fact that Nana Bella wouldn’t stop criticizing Kalliope over the Mourning Dinner. Hell, it could have been the various secrets that came out over the meal - Kalliope’s pregnancy had been weighing on his mind. He couldn’t figure out who the father could be.
The child would be considered to be a bastard unless the entire family went with the story of Uther being the Father. However, he knew it wouldn’t be easy to fool people. The King had fallen ill several months ago and Kalliope couldn’t be that far along. It would eventually get out that she was unfaithful to the King. He shook his head.
It was supposed to be a time where the family could talked about how his father lived, how he changed lives, the funny moments of his life that they could remember, not like last night. It wasn’t, not by a long shot. Nana Bella complained about everything during the meal. His Aunt Holly tried to direct the conversation away from whatever Nana Bella was talking about, but it didn’t work long. Nana found another thing to complain about. She even went as far as to claim that when she was High Queen, that the Mourning Meal wasn’t anything like Kalliope could put together and her Mourning Meals were a lot better.
Arthur was still amazed that his step-mom didn’t say anything in response to Belladonna during the meal. He had seen her eyes blaze with drunken fury throughout the night. He didn’t know what she did after the meal, but she quickly vanished through a back door from the Royal Common Room. He hadn’t seen her since then, but he did get the summons that he was needed in the Seasonal Throne Room.
He sighed before he threw his legs over the side of the couch, sitting up. He bent over, reaching for his boots under the table sitting between couch and the roaring fireplace. He slipped his feet in the boots and tugged them on. He lend back. He glanced at the door, again. A hand came up and rubbed his face. He felt the day old beard growing along his jaw. He needed to shave before the funeral ceremony tomorrow.
Arthur’s hand fell to his side, landing on the throw pillow. He directed his gaze back toward the door. Did he really want to leave the room and go out? Yeah, he did. Did he wanted to go to the Seasonal Throne Room and take his position of Acting King? No, he didn’t. He didn’t want to deal with the court and its visiting Lords and Ladies and the various representatives of houses that couldn’t attend in person.
Maybe afterwards, he could go train with the Knights and relax with them, he mused. With a deep sigh, he pushed himself up to his feet and grabbed his sword belt. He wrapped it around his waist and tied it. He strolled over to the coat hanger and reached for the brown coat he had planned to wear. He swung it over his back and slipped his arms through the sleeves and adjusted it to his upper body.
He reached for the door and pulled it open. He stepped out into the hallway. He heard a door open up further down the hall and he glanced toward it. Tristan stepped out of his personal quarters, shutting the door behind him.
“Arthur,” Tristan gapped at him like he wasn’t expecting the former Prince to start living there.
“Morning, Tristan,” Arthur greeted the violent knight. He remembered how Tristan managed to get that nickname. It was during a tournament and something had happened on the battlefield to cause Tristan to slip into a berserker rage. He won the tournament with ease as well as earning the nickname of being violent. Tristan was someone Arthur would love to fight along side with and have at his back when things at hairy.
“What are you doing here?” Tristan asked. His eyes darted between the former crowned prince and the door he just exited from. A questioning glimmer in his eyes.
“Live here now,” Arthur shrugged, “I couldn’t pull out the Holy Sword so there will be a new King and possible new Ruling Family soon.” His eyes ran over the Violent Knight’s form. Tristan’s hair was wet and there was a tiredness in his expression saying he hadn’t been sleeping well. “Did you just get back from somewhere?”
Tristan nodded and explained, “I went looking for a cure for your father’s illness, but there were some complications along the way.”
Arthur cocked his head to the side, listening, and they turned to the spiral stair case. He asked, “What kind of complications?”
Tristan sighed, “I think it would be best if I explained with High Queen Kalliope, Lord Jack, Battle Mage Merlin and the Black Lady Morgana present, my prince.”
A rush of irritation flashed through the former prince as he snapped, “Don’t call me that,” Arthur paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself, “I am no longer a Prince.” He ignored Tristan’s eyes on him as they hurried down the spiral staircase and reached the Knight Common Room. Eyes roaming around the large room, Arthur spotted Sir Gawain sitting in one of the large back comfortable plush chairs by the fire, looking down at a piece of parchment; Sir Bors stood on the far side of the bar with tanker in a hand, his head bent over a thick book; Sir Mordred stared out one of the large windows with an far off look on his face; Sir Percival sat the long table in the center of the room with a plate of food in front of him, and Sir Joseph rubbed his face as he staggered over to Arthur and Tristan, looking like he just pulled an all nighter. Arthur figured he probably did since he was one of the two dozen knights that usually stay up all night, helping the night guards watching the outer wall and inner wall.
Sir Joseph didn’t say a word as he past Arthur and Tristan before he tripped over the first step, but he recovered and placed the other foot on the second step before he continued the climb up to his floor.
Arthur watched him go before he turned to Tristan, pushing the irritation away and spoke, “I’m sorry, Sir Tristan, for speaking to you in such a way. It has been a long week for me.”
Tristan nodded in agreement, “As it has for everyone.”
They didn’t say another word as they left the Knights’ tower and strolled across the courtyard to the main part of the Castle. It didn’t take Arthur long to feel the heat of the sun, beating down on him, warming him up. The recent days had been on the chilly side like Old Man Winter didn’t want to leave just yet. There was a soft chilly breeze drifted around the courtyard. Arthur held his coat tighter to him before he entered the castle, entering it through a side door. Tristan was a step behind him.
“I thought spring was supposed to be here, already,” Arthur muttered loud enough for Tristan to hear.
“Not yet,” Tristan replied, “Remember, the recent years, Arthur, Winter has been rough on the Kingdom. Spring won’t be kind either.”
“I know,” Arthur commented, remembering the recent winter, remembering the blizzard that seemed to pop out of nowhere.
There had been several feet of snow appearing overnight, shortly after Christmas. High Queen Kalliope had argued with King Uther about helping out the villagers out of the outer wall and the townspeople within the walls of Camelot with food and finding warmth. In fact, she had, personally, given out several dozens quests for Knights who were brave enough to brave the cold temperatures to deliver food to a few villages outside of the walls. Arthur had helped out by delivering food to the local abbeys in the lower town. Kalliope had ordered several dozens quilts and afghans to made by the various weavers and quilters of the lower town. Nana Bella didn’t like that and had voiced her opinion on it, but Kalliope ignored her and somehow managed to talk Uther into doing the same, allowing Kalliope to do this to help the people out.
Arthur had been presented during one of the discussions where his step-mom had persuaded his father into it by claiming that it would be good thing to show the people that they did care about them. Uther had took only a few minutes to think about it and allowed Kalliope to dig into the Royal Coffers for coin to help to purchase the goods she wanted to buy and give to the people who needed them the most.
The gratitude that flowed from the people once the harshest part of winter faded away was felt by the Ruling Family. There was a surge of recruitment for the Castle Guards and the military. Many of the men claimed they wanted to repay the Ruling Family by protecting them. The dozens of women who flocked to the castle wanted to help and they managed to double the staffing size, in several different parts of the castle, replacing the ones who died during the cold months from illnesses. High Queen Kalliope received gifts from the villages far outside the walls of Camelot. Nana Bella was upset that Kalliope was being showered with gifts by the people of the Kingdom and claimed that the High Queen should turn her nose up at the various ‘poorly crafted gifts’, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that his great-grandmother was jealous of Kalliope.
Spring, so far, had been wet one. There had been reports of floods at the nearby rivers and various creeks had been enlarged for weeks. A couple of the floods had destroyed farmlands in the North while mudslides had been reported in the South. One of the visiting Lords informed Arthur shortly after his arrival the day before that there had been rock slides in the East and one of the rock slides had managed to take out a good portion of his lands by his Estate. Arthur knew whoever took over as King would have their hands full for the rest of spring and possible through their first year as Ruler of Camelot. A part of him was glad he didn’t have to deal with that headache while another part of him was sad since it would be the first big challenge as King.
“I don’t think Summer will be much better,” Arthur voiced his concern. Summer storms were some of the worst Camelot and its surrounding lands would get hit with during the year. They barely recovered from the worst storm toward the end of August last summer before the harvest came and fall cool the days as winter loomed. Arthur was still surprised that the Kingdom had managed to survive it.
“Well,” Tristan started, “It could mean us Knights would be going out on quests through the summer, on High Queen Kalliope’s orders, again.”
“Assuming she will be remain High Queen,” Arthur said in a worry tone. He knew there was a chance whoever drew the Holy Sword out of the Stone would already have a wife and possible children. Kalliope would have no choice, but step down as her position as High Queen in favor of the new King’s Wife taking over the position.
“Yeah,” Tristan agreed.
Arthur groaned, coming to a stop as he saw the long line of Lords and Ladies and representatives of the Ancient and Noble Houses and the minor houses, waiting to be greeted by the High Queen and the Acting King. Tristan snorted before he commented, “Have fun, Arthur. I need to go down to the Town before I meet with the High Queen and the Magi, privately.”
Arthur nodded, saying, “I will tell them that you wish to meet with them.” He glanced at Tristan, “As soon as we are done here.” He saw Tristan smirk at him before the Violent Knight hurried away. Arthur’s gaze transformed into a glare as his eyes followed the Knight out of the hallway until he disappeared from Arthur’s sight.
Arthur sighed. His shoulders slumped in defeat. He went to a nearby door and entered it. It was a servant door, allowing the serving staff to run in and out without disturbing majority of the court.
Once inside the Seasonal Throne Room, he spotted Kalliope standing nearby an opened window, staring out over the ocean that took over the Western horizon. He strolled over to her and said, “Good morning, Mother-Queen.”
Kalliope jerked slightly as she turned to him. She smiled at him and said, “Morning, Son-Prince.” She turned back to the open window. She didn’t say a word for a longest moment then she explained, “I am waiting to see if the Pope’s ship will be arriving this morning or afternoon.”
Arthur nodded in understanding. This would be her first time seeing the Pope in person. He spoke up, “He won’t be arriving until after dinner, if he does arrive today.” He frowned, thinking. The letter had stated the Pope won’t be arriving until ‘the day after tomorrow’ which meant there was still another day before the Pop did arrived. “If he doesn’t arrive today, he will be sometime tomorrow.”
She glanced up at him before she nodded in understanding. She sighed which turned into a yawn. A hand rose up to cover her mouth. Arthur spotted the light purplish marks under her closed eyes, indicting that she hadn’t been sleeping very well or not as much as she needed to.
Footsteps rang out behind them. Arthur turned to see Merlin strolling up to them. The Mage nodded his head at Arthur before he said, “Heather McDonald has been escorted from the Castle.”
Arthur blinked. Heather McDonald had been what? He knew Heather was the head of the Serving Staff. According to the numerous complaints, she was not a good boss to be working under and thus she was always short staffed from the accounts he had heard.
“Thank you, Merlin,” Kalliope turned to Merlin and gave him a smile of gratitude. “I had no idea she would be that difficult to expell from the Castle.”
“She can be a handful to deal with,” Merlin agreed.
“And could someone clue me in why Heather McDonald had be escorted from the Castle?” Arthur asked, “Who is the head of the Serving Staff, now?”
“I thought Heather no longer benefit the Ruling Family as the Head of the Serving Staff,” Kalliope commented, “Patrick Johnson has taken her place as the Head of the Serving Staff.”
Arthur nodded. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. Heather had been a problem for the Ruling Family for a while. They had hundreds of complaints about her over the last few years, mostly how to she treated her staff and how the members of the staff preferred to work with another staff. Patrick had lasted the longest, staying with the Serving Staff for a total of 7 months. Now, he was charge of the Serving Staff. Arthur hoped the man was up for the job.
“Heather didn’t want to leave the Castle,” Merlin went on, “So, the Queen had to have her escorted out of the castle.”
Kalliope snorted, “I also had to threaten her with time in the dungeon if she would ever tried to enter the Castle again.”
Arthur’s lips parted as he stared at his step-mother. That was the first time to his knowledge that she had threaten anyone with time in the dungeons. It was somewhat amusing, or at least to Arthur, it was. He let out a soft chunckle, shaking his head.
“Anyway,” Kalliope started, changing the subject, “We should really take our seats, Arthur. The Lords and Ladies of the Court as well as the representatives of the Houses that could not make the travel are waiting for us.”
Arthur let out a groan, saying, “Don’t remind me, Mom.”
He spotted Kalliope roll her eyes at him, but he held out his arm to her. She took it. He guided her over to the Throne of the High Queen before he claimed his seat, leaving the Throne of the King empty, again. He saw the Announcer of the Court stroll over and stopped in front of them, by the bottom step. He bowed, deeply, before he asked, “Are you ready, your majesties, to welcome the members of the Court and the Representatives?”
“No, not really,” Arthur grumbled. He felt amusement shot through him as he saw the Announcer jerk and looked up at him in shock.
“Please ignore him, Announcer,” Kalliope stated, “He is just in a grumpy mood because he doesn’t want to be here.” Arthur shot her a half hearted glare that informed her she was right. “Please, start the process, Announcer.”
“As you wish, my lady,” The announcer bowed again before he turned away and went to the door. He opened the pair of doors wide and stepped to the side. The first person in line handed him a piece of parchment paper. He read it before he stood straight and called out, “Lady Amelia of Ancient and Noble House of Whitlock.”
https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B08MBFS53L . The Paperback is available for purchase: . I am working on a Hardcover edition, which I am hoping to have out by the end of February 2025, as long as there is no trouble. If you want an autographic copy of the book, please check out the link to my etsy shop where you can get an autographic copy with a bookmark.
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