The Red Throne | TUQ Book Two

14 | deceit

To the Earl of Springledge, Lord Byron,

Unfortunately, I must inform you that my sister, the Lady Lisbeth, has passed away last night, leaving behind a son. While I am aware of the tumultous nature of your marriage, with you accusing her of infidelity, my sister insists that the boy is yours. Her funeral will be held on the 12th Day of Summer at the Aglarose Cordesane. If you would like to pay final respects to your wife, do come. If not, simply ignore this letter.

Anne Genevieve Winterbourne,
Duchess of Cindertrappe

Today is the 11th day of Summer. Lisbeth's boy, whom we had named Orion, was well taken care of by my mother-in-law and I, but my own mother, the boy's grandmother, was too absorbed in grief to even look at him.

Orion was an adorable little boy, with curly tufts of golden blonde hair and gleaming grey eyes, just like my sister's. Cecily would swaddle him in linen and pace around the room, carrying him gently in her arms, while my adoptive brother, Gabriel, marvelled at this 'miniature human'.

"Have you never seen a baby before, Gabriel?" I asked amusedly. He quickly shook his head, and said, "No, Anne. No one brings their babies to court, and my relatives never showed me theirs either."

I smiled bitterly, knowing that all of Gabriel's blood relatives were either slaughtered or exiled. He never bothered to ask about them though, so we never told him about the fates of his relatives. "Well, now you can see one everyday. This is your nephew, Orion, and I want you to take good care of him."

He nodded half-heartedly, but then he paused and glanced at me. "What about you, Anne? Will I get a niece or a nephew?"

I chuckled lightly as I caressed my rotund stomach, and eventhough I knew that I needed a son, I never allowed myself to say that. "I don't know," I said to him. "We will have to wait and see."

"If it's a boy, I will teach him how to shoot arrows and swordfight, and we can go riding horses together!" Gabriel stated excitedly. "And if it's a girl, I shall teach her those things too, because I'm not good at anything in particular other than that."

"Oh, but you're so good at poetry. Surely she would appreciate that ?" I said, attempting to console him.

"No, Anne. That nasty McCarthy girl said that only weak boys like poetry. Is that true, Anne? Am I weak?"

"No, not at all, Gabriel," I reassured him. "She is the weak one. She has no talent, and she belittles other people to make herself feel better. She is pathetic."

Gabriel grinned brightly, showing off his front teeth. His smile contrasted drastically with the dreary situation we were entrenched in, making me forget about the horrific things we went through in the span of just a few weeks.

During the funeral the next day, I did not see the Earl of Springledge anywhere, while the Marquis of Lockebel arrived mere seconds after we did.
The handsome marquis had donned an elaborate traditional mourning garb in all-black, complete with a black feathered hat, which was usually worn by a widower who had just lost his wife.
While most commoners would simply dye pheasant or goose feathers to make it black, the Marquis had worn a hat adorned with darrow feathers, a species of birds that could only be found in Ravaeryn, a faraway kingdom in a different continent.

Since they were a rarity here in Phoenicia, husbands who wore a hat adorned with the feather of this particular bird were seen as thoughtful and loving.
However, they were notoriously expensive and were only imported when there were requests, since nobody really wanted to spend ten ingots of gold on bird feathers that would only be worn once during a funeral procession. Transporting the feathers from Ravaeryn to Phoenicia would take months, and unless the husband was anticipating the wife's death, logically there would be no reason why the husband would go out of their way and obtain the feathers.